Riana’s heart pounded, but her glare was sharp. “You don’t get to ask me that, Wesley. I can go wherever I damn well please.”
His eyes burned with anger and something else she couldn’t name. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself. You think I did not see you making a fool of yourself. Dancing like that, letting every man touch you—”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she cut in, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Did I forget to get your permission before living my life?”
He leaned closer, his breath brushing her cheek. “You’re still my wife.”
“Only on paper,” she shot back.
For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Their wolves stirred, restless, conflicted. The scent of his cologne mixed with the electric air between them making her heart beats faster.
His eyes, flicked down to her lips be
