Seth has been pacing. Just pacing. Back and forth, over and over. As soon as we stepped into the room, he slammed the door shut and quickly removed his jacket, balling it up and throwing it on the floor. He removed his shirt, not even bothering to undo the buttons. His fists are balled and his breathing is ragged. I had thought he was going to shift, but he hasn't, he just continues to pace.
I’ve been sitting on the edge of the bed, just watching my mate. I can feel his anger rolling off of him in waves, and it’s honestly terrifying. I know he won’t hurt me, but he’s never made me truly feel scared before now.
“Seth,” I say softly, trying to calm him, but he just holds his hand up to me and continues his pacing.
Suddenly, he looks up at me, then the door, and then to the window.
