The Disgraced Mate

The pain had faded to a dull throb by morning. I lay in Adrian's bed, watching sunlight stream through the windows as he spoke quietly on the phone across the room. Every few seconds, he'd glance over at me, his expression tight with concern.

I still couldn't believe what had happened last night. Julian had slept with someone else—not Camille, but a complete stranger. The mate bond had punished me for his betrayal, as if I were the one who had broken our sacred connection.

"I don't care where you find him," Adrian growled into the phone. "Just bring him to me. Now."

He ended the call and came to sit beside me on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," I admitted. "It doesn't hurt as much anymore."

His fingers brushed my hair from my face, his touch gentle. "That's because he's finished. The pain is always worst during the act itself."