Right on cue, a sleek black Bentley rolled up. Tristan. Because of course he’d make a dramatic entrance. He stepped out, looking every bit the untouchable Alpha in his tailored suit. His eyes flicked over me—soaked, bleeding, broken—but all he did was curl his lip in annoyance.
“Get in,” he barked, like I was a stray dog he decided to pity.
I climbed into the car without a word. What was the point? His leather seats were warm, but I wasn’t. He threw his coat over me, but the scent of Selene’s perfume clung to it like a bad memory.
“Have you learned your lesson?” he asked, voice cold but smug. “No one will ever love you like I do. Apologize to Selene, and we’ll fix this. You’ll still be my Luna.”
Oh, Luna. That word used to mean something to me. Now, it was just a leash. I turned my head, watching raindrops race down the window. I didn’t have the energy to argue. Not anymore.
His phone buzzed, and he answered it without hesitation.
“Tristan, where are you?” Selene’s voice purred through the speaker. “The pack’s waiting, babe.”
Babe. I felt my stomach twist. He didn’t even bother to hide it anymore.