The Mark of Betrayal (by Cooper) novel Chapter 17

Roman

Goddess, being in this room brings back so many memories. Seeing the picture of Theo on the mantle, I swear I can hear his laughter.

Maybe it’s this room, maybe it’s the commonalities between Samantha and Samara, maybe it’s that Theo’s birthday is coming up soon, but it’s like all of that grief from nine years ago is pressing down on me, making it hard for me to breathe.

‘Focus on our mate,’ Pierce says softly. He feels the pain of losing Raye as much as I feel the pain of losing Theo. All four of us were best friends. Our wolves treated each other as much like brothers as Theo and I did.

I look up and see her staring at me like I’ve grown another head. Shit! She was finally opening up to me a little and I started going down memory lane.

I push the past aside and focus on my mate. I pick up my knife and tap her plate.

“Let me know if it’s to your liking,” I tell her. She blinks at me, then slices into her steak.

White hot desire flashes through me as I watch her eyes roll back into her head as her head falls back, exposing her neck. I fight the possessive growl that Pierce roars in my head. If I were closer to her, I’d lean over and nip her neck, accepting her submission. She’d hate it, since I know it’s not intentional, but I’d do it anyway.

“Oh, it’s so good,” she moans. If anything, her response to the steak is even more intense than her response to the coffee this morning. Fuck I can’t wait to hear her moaning like that for me.

I chuckle as I watch her. “Alpha William’s omegas didn’t cook like my chefs?”

Instead of collecting herself, she just shakes her head, her eyes remaining closed and her throat remaining exposed while she moans a ‘no’ as she continues to enjoy the steak.

“They were good cooks, and I exclude myself from that category. But this? This is a masterpiece,” she moans, opening her eyes and lowering her chin. “Oh my goddess,” she says, slicing off another piece.

She chews another piece of steak, moaning again. I’m going to fucking explode in my pants if she keeps this up. I shift, trying to find a comfortable way to sit while I focus on my own steak. I take a bite, and I have to admit she’s right. It’s fucking delicious.

She takes another sip of wine and moans again.

“Oh, you were right! It does taste better with the steak. Roman, this is SO good,” she says, focusing on her food again.

I realize that this last half hour, she hasn’t said one snarky thing to me. It gives me hope that we can find some common ground.

“So, was filet mignon one of your expensive tastes?” I ask.

She looks at me, as if deciding whether or not to answer. I hold my breath. Yes, I’m interested in knowing the answer, but it will also give me a better idea of her age when she left her home.

“Yes,” she finally says. I mentally up the age that she left her home from five to seven.

“What other expensive tastes did you have?” I ask, wondering if I can get any more information that will help me narrow down the age she left her home.

“Make up,” she says, much too quickly.

I make a point of slicing my steak and look at it as I pretend to ponder her response. “Your parents must have been very insistent about you wearing make up at a young age if you were so young you didn’t remember how old you were when you got to Alpha William’s pack, but you were already wearing make up,” I say, smiling as I take a bite.

I get the annoyed fake smile. “I would get into my mother’s make up. Do you not have any sisters?” she asks.

“No, I’m an only child.”

“Well then, I guess you wouldn’t understand.”

Since this conversation is getting us back to the snarky side that I’m trying to avoid, I change the subject.

“What do you like to do in your free time?”

“I like being outside,” she says, her voice getting soft.

“Was it hard to let your wolf out at Alpha William’s pack?” I ask her.

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