The door clicks shut, leaving me staring at it in stunned silence, Elijah’s words echoing relentlessly in my mind.
Second chance mate.
The phrase slashes through my heart, leaving a raw ache in its wake. My throat tightens, and my stomach churns violently. My eyes had come across it in the werewolf book accidentally. It’s what happens when a wolf rejects their first mate—they’re given another chance at love, at destiny, with someone else. Someone better suited to them.
Does that mean he’s planning to reject me? Is he already imagining another woman in my place?
My fists clench at the thought, the sting of his words sharper than I’d care to admit. He had the audacity to say it to my face, as if it wouldn’t matter. As if it wouldn’t hurt.
I’m not jealous. I can’t be. I don’t give a damn
