After Breaking Our Bond, the Beast God Begs for Me Back
After the fire, no one wanted to rescue a half- dead werewolf. But me? I was thrilled to bring him home.
Then I heard him say, “If she hadn’t adopted me while I was unconscious, I’d belong to Maisie.” “Being around her is worse than death.”
Turns out, he was in love with my sister all along.
“Fine, you got it.”
Later, I broke our bond and took a lion shifter
who loved me as a mate. He totally freaked.
“Here, take this.”
I shoved the bank card into Chandler’s hand,
wanting to touch his ears, but he flinched away,
his face twisted with disgust.
12:47
<
My hand froze. Instead, I ruffled his hair.
“Happy birthday. Have fun with your friends.”
84
He turned and walked into the private room, not
even glancing at me. I was used to his
coldness. Werewolves, right? Emotionally aloof by nature.
I was at the door of the restaurant when I
realized I didn’t have my keys. They were still
with him. When I went back, I overheard him
talking to his friends.
“Sometimes I wish Piper hadn’t saved me,”
Chandler said, his voice heavy. “Maybe Maisie
would’ve adopted me.”
He sounded so miserable. “Being around her is
worse than death.”
His friend clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah,
Piper’s face is… intense. I can barely look at
her.”
12:48
3637 897
84
6144
My heart clenched, like a fist was squeezing it
tight. I stumbled out of the restaurant, feeling
numb.
The revolving door reflected my image: A
jagged, pink scar smeared across the left side
of my face, twisted into a mask of horror.
Ten years ago, at a shifter auction, a fire broke
out. Chandler, up for sale, was knocked
unconscious by falling debris. I rushed back into
the fire and saved him, scarring my face for
life.
“If this wolf doesn’t have any next of kin, the
adopter has to sign off on the surgery,” the
doctor said, holding out the consent form. But
no one stepped forward.
Who wants to adopt a werewolf who might not
even make it?
“I… I’ll sign.”
<
Ignoring my own burns, I grabbed the papers
and signed.
Later, I found out he was already obsessed with
my stepsister, Maisie. If it weren’t for the fire,
she would have been his owner.
I couldn’t bring myself to go back inside for my
keys, so I sat on the porch steps until midnight.
Chandler came home drunk, saw me huddled on
the ground, and silently pulled out his keys to
open the door. He didn’t ask if I was cold or
hungry. I used to think he was just a wolf,
incapable of showing emotion. Now I knew he
just didn’t care.
I looked at his fluffy tail twitching behind him. It
hit me: that’s why his tail always perked up and
wagged a little when he saw Maisie. That was
how he acted around someone he liked.
I reached out to touch it, but he flinched back,
<
his eyes wary. “What do you want?” he
snapped.
So much for the birthday mood.
