E


    As I stood in Alexander’s showerter that night, hot water cascading down my back, my fingers kept drifting up to my mouth. I couldn’t stop <b>touchin </b>my lips. The ghost of Alexander’s kiss still lingered there, no matter how hard I scrubbed at the skin.


    I hadn’t meant for it to be so… intense. I’d only wanted to shut the journalists up, to prove our “love” was real. But the moment our lips touched, something had ignited between us. I couldn’t deny it.


    I’d never been kissed like that before. Hell, I’d never been kissed by Alexander at all. Five years of marriage, and it took a PR crisis for him to <b>finally </b>kiss <ol><li><b>me</b>. </li></ol>


    Well… I had been the one to kiss him. And the moment we had been out of sight, he had walked away from me like I was nothing.


    The whole situation felt so damn pathetic. And I felt even more pathetic for actually caring.


    I shut off the water and stood dripping in the shower and reached for a towel just as the bathroom door swung open.


    “What the fuck!” I screamed, clutching the towel to my chest as Alexander strode in, already unbuttoning his shirt.


    His eyes went wide. “Shit!” He whirled around, covering his eyes with one hand. “I didn’t know you were in here.”


    “Obviously!” My heart was going wild in my chest as I hastily wrapped the towel around myself and stumbled out of the shower. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”


    “I’m not used to sharing a bathroom,” Alexander snapped with his back still turned to me.


    I moved to step past him, but as I tried to squeeze by, my damp shoulder brushed against his arm. A jolt of electricity shot through me at the contact.


    Alexander <i>froze</i>, his body suddenly going rigid. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned his head toward me.


    We were close. Too close. Close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes, could feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek. My gaze dropped to his lips–those same lips that had been on mine just hours ago.


    The air between us crackled with static electricity as we looked at each other. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me again<b>, </b>right there in that steamy bathroom with nothing but a towel between us.


    Part of me wanted him to.


    Alexander swallowed. “E.” The sound of my name on his tongue sounded strained, like he was holding back.


    Did he want me, too, I wondered? Did he secretly spend nights during the past five years wondering what it would be like to finally be together as man


    and wife?


    But then he stepped back and coldly said, “That stunt you pulled today at the press conference can’t happen again.”


    I blinked. “What?”


    “The kiss. It worked this time, but we shouldn’t make a habit of it. Not with a divorceing up so soon<b>.</b>”


    The reminder stung more than it should have. Nine months. We had agreed on nine months, and then he would reject me, and my wolf would return, and I would live. That was the n. That was what I wanted.


    So why did his words make my chest hurt like I’d been stabbed?


    I quickly shoved that nasty, traitorous little feeling back down and locked it away.


    fine by <b>me</b>,” I said, <b>lining </b><b>my </b><b>chid</b><b>. </b>“It’s not like I enjoyed it <b>anyway</b>?


    <b>A </b>muscle in Alexander’s <b>jaw </b>Ucked. “Good. Then we’re on the came pag


    I pushed past him without another word, ignoring the way my skin burned where it had touched his.


    Fiteen minutester, I was sitting up in bed with a book open in myp although I hadn’t read Ia single word.


    I was wearing one of my silk nightgowns, the pale blue one with thece trim that had sat unworn in my drawer for years I’d bought it hack when i’d <b>stit </b>believed Alexander might someday want me–back when i was still naive enough to think fated mates always fell in love.


    Now, I was just wearing it because I needed to doundry.


    At least… that was what I told myself.


    The bathroom door opened, and Alexander emerged in a cloud of steam, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, I forced myself not to look at the defined muscles of his abdomen or the trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband.


    He slid into bed beside me, taking care to stay on his side. Neither of us spoke for a long moment.


    Finally, I snapped my book shut. “Just so we’re clear,” I said, “Lonly kissed you because you weren’t doing anything to stop those journalists from asking too many questions.”


    Alexander scoffed. “Right. And here I thought you just couldn’t resist me.”


    “Don’t tter yourself.” I set my book on the nightstand. “I hate kissing you. <b>It </b>was vile.”


    “The feeling is mutual.”


    “Well, at least we can agree on one thing.”


    Alexander grunted and rolled over, turning his back to me. Within minutes, his breathing had evened out, indicating he was asleep or close to it.


    But I couldn’t sleep. Iy there for a long time, just staring up at the ceiling.


    Only once I was certain he was asleep did I touch my lips again.


    What if things had been different? What if Alexander had given us a real chance? What would our marriage have been like if he had actually loved me?


    I couldn’t even begin <i>to </i>imagine it. Couldn’t fathom what it would feel like to have Alexander’s hands on my body, his lips on my skin, our bodies joining in the way nature intended for mates.


    The thought made a warm pool of honey form low in my belly, a feeling that I knew all too well but had only acted on in the darkness of my old bedroom <i>on </i>the other side of the mansion, all by myself.


    I was twenty–two years old and still a virgin. That fact was a humiliation that I kept buried deep inside. I’d been married for five years, and my husband had never once touched me–had never even kissed me until today, and that was just for show, and he wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t done it first.


    Most Lunas my age already had pups<i>, </i>little ones toddling around their feet or nursing at their breasts. They had mates who loved them, who marked them, who imed them as their own.


    I had a dormant wolf and a death sentence because my mate hated me.


    What would I do when this was all over? When was free?


    I’d travel, I decided. I’d go to all the ces I’d always wanted to see but never could because of my Luna duties. I’d wander through ancient streets and eat exotic foods and dance until my feet hurt.


    And I’d date. Goddess, I would date so many people.


    not


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    someone who <b>desired </b><b>in </b>polis sa the as there ton fist & M


    I’d be free. <b>Free </b>to live, free to reste tres to beming ertur


    Nine months. That was all I had to endurs. Nine more months of this man why dad want


    had to


    Because on the other side of those nine months was life. Real life, on my own terms this time, and no one alka’s fint de father’s my Webroot not Alexander’s, not Sophia’s, not even Liam’s.


    Mine.


    That thought brought a faint smile to my face as my eyelids grew heavy.


    But in thest moments before I slipped off to sleep, my mind drifted back to that kiss, to the feeling of Alexander’s lips on mine, in the army body hade alive in his arms.


    And for à moment, just a moment, I couldn’t help but think that i had never felt more alive than in that moment when he had kissed me back.


    AD