I stared at Alexander in disbelief. An IOU? Was he seriously asking me for an IOU?
“Or would you prefer I send you back to be sold again?” Alexander asked, his voice completely void of emotion.
“I…” The words caught in my throat.
“Miss Winters, one hundred million dollars seems a fair price for your life and freedom,” he continued, his
voice businesslike.
“Unless, of course, you’d prefer permanent captivity as someone’s plaything?”
Typical businessman–this cold, calculating wolf. My composure finally cracked.
“Fine,” I snapped, “if all you want is an IOU, I’ll write it right now!”
I bit off the pen cap and scribbled the note furiously, then tossed it at Alexander. “There. Check it yourself. I’ve included the repayment date and all my identification information. I won’t run.”
The Alpha didn’t even look up, just said flatly: “Blood mark.”
i
I took a deep breath. “Fine. Give me a moment.”
I stormed out to find a fruit knife, then returned and, right in front of Alexander, pricked my thumb. Pain shot through my hand. Shit, that hurt!
Wincing slightly, I pressed my bleeding thumb against my signature while the blood was still warm. “Is this
sufficient now?”
Alexander took the IOU and pulled open the bedside drawer to put it away. My eyes widened when I spotted something inside. “Ink pad?”
Fury bubbled up inside me. “You had an ink pad the whole time? Why didn’t you tell me? Do you know how much my hand hurts? It’s still bleeding!”
I thrust my injured thumb in front of his face, demanding acknowledgment of his cruelty. He merely glanced up, his expression flat. “Did you ask?”
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Ask? Was he serious? Who would think to ask about an ink pad when someone demands a blood mark?
He didn’t even show a flicker of concern when I stabbed my finger. He couldn’t have bothered to mention there was an easier way?
I swear to the Moon Goddess!
My chest heaved with anger. Alexander was clearly doing this deliberately.
He’d grown even crueler than he was five years ago.
I angrily tore off several tissues and wrapped them around my injured thumb. “I’m tired. I need to sleep.”
Seeing he wasn’t moving from his spot, I asked, “Will you take the inside of the bed or should I?”
He pointed toward the door. “There’s a couch outside.”
The last of my patience evaporated. “I’ve already been out there. There are no blankets and it’s freezing. I’ll
catch cold.”
“Besides, Alexander, this bed is huge. It could easily fit five or six people. What’s wrong with letting me sleep here?”
“If you’re worried I’ll try something inappropriate, I can stay far away from you. I promise not to touch you at all. I could even sleep at the foot of the bed if that makes you feel better.”
But despite my pleading, he remained unmoved. “Out.”
“Come on, I’m a woman. Can’t you show a little chivalry?”
I forced a smile and batted my eyelashes, trying to change his mind. He took a deep drag of his cigarette before extinguishing it in the ashtray.
Wisps of white smoke curled around us as he fixed me with an icy stare. “Would you prefer I physically throw you out myself?”
My smile froze on my face. “No need. The couch is fine. I’ll go myself, no need for Alpha Blackwood to lift a finger.”
With that, I walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind me.
The living area was luxuriously appointed, with a skylight that revealed the night sky above. Beautiful, yes, but freezing cold.
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As I lay on the leather couch, I felt the chill seeping into my bones.
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How things had changed–Alexander once couldn’t bear to be apart from me, and now he didn’t care about me
at all. I couldn’t even find an opportunity to get close to him.
“Achoo!” I sneezed, rubbing my nose as I curled into a tight ball, trying desperately to warm myself.
But the couch might as well have been made of ice–it refused to absorb any of my body heat. The path to reclaiming my mate was going to be long and difficult.
So much had happened in just one day. I thought I would lie awake all night, tossing and turning, but as soon as
I closed
my eyes, my entire body seemed to melt with exhaustion.
I quickly lost consciousness.
Perhaps my body was simply too tired–the moment I relaxed, sleep overtook me. I drifted into dreams of five
years ago, of the night Alexander had opened his heart and told me he loved me.
“Summer, I’ve said it before–I love you,” he had whispered.
“In all my life, you’re the only one who has ever touched my heart.”
But he had forgotten. Forgotten me, forgotten his promise to love me for eternity.
Alexander’s POV
In the bedroom, I chain–smoked until I’d finished an entire pack.
I crumpled the empty pack and tossed it into the trash before rising from the bed and opening the bedroom
door.
My eyes immediately fell on the couch in the living area.
The woman was curled up like a small cat, knees hugged to her chest, sleeping peacefully. Her face was small, delicate, with a pointed chin and lips as soft as cherry blossoms. Her long, curled eyelashes fanned against her
cheeks, and without makeup, her skin looked pure and flawless.
Gone was the seductive temptress from the auction block. In sleep, she appeared innocent, almost sweet, with a girlish charm I found unexpectedly disarming.
“Achoo!” She sneezed, apparently cold, rubbing her nose before settling back to sleep.
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I frowned, had I been too harsh?
The temperature on the ship dropped considerably at night, especially with the air conditioning.
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She was clearly freezing, and something about her vulnerability stirred something uncomfortable in my chest.
After a moment’s hesitation, I returned to the bedroom and retrieved a blanket, which I draped over her sleeping form.
Suddenly, my wrist was caught in a small hand. Her eyes were barely open as she mumbled dreamily, “Don’t go…”
Her hand was cool against my skin, startlingly white against the black leather couch–so pale it almost seemed to glow. Tears threatened to spill from her half–lidded eyes. “Please don’t leave…”
“Sleep,” I murmured, my Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Something about her desperation resonated with me in a way I couldn’t explain.
The fear in her voice seemed genuine, deep–seated–like someone who had experienced true abandonment.
Despite my better judgment, I found myself wanting to reassure her.
Satisfied with my answer, she closed her eyes, gently nuzzling her cheek against the back of my hand. “Don’t
abandon me…”
“Don’t abandon our child…”
My hand froze.
Our child? She had a child with someone else? Was she mistaking me for someone–another man she’d been
with?
That would explain everything–her knowing my name, the familiarity with which she touched me, the desperate need to stay close.
Understanding dawned, and my lips curved into a contemptuous smile.
I carefully pried her fingers away one by one, rose to my feet, and returned to the bedroom.
I didn’t look back at her again.
