Chapter 14 · Ch14

Election Dale asked why the Alpha was on his knees in the archive while the council voted, and Callum stood, locked the inner door, and put me on the desk instead of answering a politician.

"You looked at Voss like he could take the seal," Callum said, tearing my trousers.

"I'll ruin you right here."

"He put his hand on my ledger."

"He put his eyes on your mouth." Callum's were worse.

"Tell me who owns this body." Archive. Oak. Election noise muffled. No bed. No bride. I was soaked. He slid inside with a snarl, jealousy in every thrust, the vote becoming irrelevant percussion.

"Look at me while I take you. They can elect a chair. They can't elect this." I came biting his coat. The jealousy had a setting that was not a bed: desk, counter, SUV leather, warehouse rust, oak archive — take the one we were in. You looked at him. That was the trigger. He shoved my skirt aside. Clothes already wrecked. He stepped between my knees, full weight covering me, and asked who owns this body.

"Tell me who owns this body. You looked at him like that again.