Wolfless, Unbroken Abandoned novel Chapter 9

Georgia lifted her head slowly, her gaze locking onto the imposing man seated on the sofa. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air–did she really just hear what she thought she did?

He was her mate. Years ago, she had refused to accept his rejection, binding herself to him all the same. That made her his, whether he acknowledged it or not.

And now, he was asking her to kiss another man.

Her eyes locked with Preston’s, filled with raw desperation and pleading. Yet, Preston savored the torment playing across. her face, convinced she’d defy his demand. Any woman in her position would sooner drown in wine than press her lips to a

stranger.

“Could you ask me for something else?” Georgia whispered, her voice trembling.

Preston sneered, cold and unyielding. “You don’t get to bargain with me.”

She dropped to the floor, crawling with agonizing slowness. Her fingers reached out instinctively to trace the jagged scar on the left side of her waist–the permanent mark from the only time she’d shifted in that brutal werewolf prison. The agony had been unbearable, forcing her to transform despite the consequences.

Other prisoners had attacked her then, biting into her flesh. Later, they’d smeared her wound with wolf poison–a venomous salve that slowed healing but sealed the injury. When she shifted back to human form, her body had grown frail and weak, the wound refusing to close. The scar remained a cruel reminder of that torment.

She knew the wine would only amplify the poison’s venom, intensifying the pain until it was unbearable. Death by agony was the last thing she wanted.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, but her mind was flooded.by the faces of those werewolves who had tormented her endlessly in that dark, dank cell. All but one had been cruel and hateful–the girl who had stood up for her, only to perish in the

shadows of that prison because of Georgia.

Georgia owed nothing to Giselle. But she owed everything to the girl who’d sacrificed herself to protect her.

Her body shook violently, haunted by the vision of the bloodied girl cradled in her arms, fading away.

Before she died, the girl had whispered a dream, a fragile hope.

“Georgia, when you get out, what will you do?”

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