I cried out every single emotion I had felt this past month.
Hurt. Betrayal. Sorrow. Rage. Passion.
My fingers grazed against my necklace, sending a wave of heat through my body. It felt different around my neck. It meant something now.
Roman pulled me to his chest, placed a kiss on my forehead, and massaged my scalp. “Why are you crying, my dear Isabella?”
I threw my arms around his neck and held on for dear life. Roman wanted me. He really did. He might’ve still been angry with me—I didn’t know—but this necklace and lying in his bed with his strong arms wrapped around me proved that he still wanted me.
“I thought you were going to reject me,” I whispered through my tears.
“Reject you? What made you think I’d reject you?”
My lips trembled. “Because you refused to mark me, you told
