Victoria stood over me, one hand protectively over her stomach, the other holding my medication hostage. She extended her foot, the expensive designer shoe inches from my bleeding mouth.
"Look what you've done," Alexander snarled. "You've upset her again with your selfishness. Kiss her feet and be grateful she's allowing you to do so."
Since becoming Alexander's mate, degrading myself had become as natural as breathing.
I kissed the floor when his dinner wasn't hot enough, even though he came home three hours late.
I spent the night in the dog kennel when I interrupted his call to tell him I'd found hotel receipts with Victoria's name.
I wrote a fifty-page essay on my worthlessness when he broke my finger for accidentally using his favorite coffee mug.
I even thanked him last month when I found him in our bed with Victoria, as if his betrayal was a gift I should cherish.
With blood filling my mouth and my vision blurring, I forced myself forward.
Lowering my face to her shoe, I placed my bleeding lips against the leather once, twice, then a third time, leaving blood marks as they recorded the entire humiliation.