Fifty Two

The guilt flooding through me is nearly overwhelming because no one deserves to have their mind broken. “I didn’t—that wasn’t—”

The venom in Bree’s gaze silences my stuttering apology because it’s clear there’s no point. I’ve made myself her enemy and nothing I say or do will change that. It’s all right there in her gold-eyed glare.

“His wolf attacked me. Nearly killed me,” she says, in a deceptively mild voice, as her eyes burn with rage. “Me. His mate.”

I don’t speak. I don’t have the words to say a thing.

“He says your name in the night. Sometimes he talks about the baby. He pretends not to remember, says he was just talking nonsense, but I know he does.” Bree’s next laugh is brittle. “His father had to come and save me. Oh, he had such fun rubbing it in my face that Shane would always view you as his mate. That his wolf would never let him forget he walked away from his child.”

I shake my head as I will her to understand. “No, Shane didn’t want the child. He said—”

“It doesn’t mat