Genevieve pressed one hand against the stone wall.
Her heart was beating so violently she feared it might frighten the baby.
Beatrice laughed softly. “She is carrying your pup, Arthur.
That doesn’t mean you have to love her.” Silence.
Genevieve wanted Arthur to defend her. Wanted him to laugh.
Wanted him to tell Beatrice she was insane.
Instead, he said quietly, “I don’t.” Something broke inside her.
“She was never like you,” Arthur continued.
“The mate bond chose Genevieve, but my wolf never burned for her.”
Genevieve covered her mouth. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
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