Aiden.
"You developed a soft spot for your fated," Dahlia teased as she sauntered toward my desk. She was clad in a black silk robe that hung loosely over provocative black lingerie, her every step exuding an air of seduction.
"Ex-mate. You were here when she rejected me, and I accepted," I reminded her pointedly, watching her reaction.
She nodded, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "How does it feel not to be the object of fancy to your own mate?" she asked, settling into the chair opposite me. Her tone was light, but the question cut deep.
"Nothing, Dahlia; what do you want?" I replied, my patience wearing thin.
She sighed, feigning exasperation. "I do not understand why you are angry, Aiden. I wondered what it felt like because you are usually the object of everyone's admiration
