I ride up to the top floor, my blood starting to boil as anger courses through me. I stomp over to the office door, throwing it open without knocking because, of course, it’s closed.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“What’s that?” he asks, not bothering to lift his eyes from the computer keyboard.
That pisses me off even more. I’m ready to claw his eyes out, and he’s already dismissing me.
“I know, okay. I know you’re a shifter, and I know we’re fated to be together.”
“Is that so?” he asks in a bored tone as he continues to type on his computer.
Bastard.
“Yes, it is,” I grit out, clenching my fists. “I want to know why you’re rejecting me. I deserve to know that much, at least.”
I cross my hands over my chest, my fingernails digging into my palms as I try not to cry. I’ve never stood up
