Regina lowered her gaze, bitter and ashamed, lips curling into a hollow, mocking smile.
"What are you laughing at?"
Waldo's voice was low, dangerous—a growl barely restrained behind clenched teeth. The beast inside him stirred, sensing her retreat.
Regina lifted her head slowly.
Her tear-brimmed eyes locked onto his with defiance. "I'm laughing… because I'm nothing more than a toy to you. Dignity?" She gave a brittle chuckle. "That's a joke, isn't it?"
Waldo's irises darkened, ink bleeding into silver.
His wolf stirred violently beneath his skin.
She could break. She could run.
But she was his.
Not just a woman. Not just a fling.
She was his mate, and this connection—they both felt it.
Only she kept denying it, pushing him away like he was just another monster in the dark.
He could handle many things.
But he couldn't tolerate her not knowing what she was to him.
"Ding."
The elevator chimed.
Doors slid open slowly, but no one inside moved.
