Page 19 of Plus-Size Bullied Mate

“I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not.”

The immediate refusal snaps the thin thread of patience I woke up with. “Repeating the same controlling bullshit doesn’t suddenly make it reasonable.”

Hunter sets his mug down slowly, forcing his expression into something much calmer than I feel. “You’re not safe alone right now. Hayes’ pride is wounded now, and he’ll likely come back to make matters worse.”

“I’ve been alone for years.”

“And look how that turned out.”

The words slap harder than he probably intends, and the silence that follows is heavy enough to make me want to squirm.

I fold my arms tightly across my chest. “You really do know how to make a girl feel better after getting assaulted.”

Regret flashes across his face instantly, but I don’t feel bad about it.

I want him to sit in it.

“That’s not what I meant,” Hunter says, trying to backpedal.

“It’s what you said.”

He exhales sharply through his nose, visibly fighting for patience. The sight of his frustration almost makes me laugh.

If only he knew how it felt to be trapped in a house with your childhood tormentor, who suddenly wants to act possessive for reasons he apparently doesn’t understand himself. Maybe then he’d get it.

“I’m not staying here,” I reiterate, sick of the gnawing feeling in my stomach.

“Yes, you are.”

As more anger bubbles up, I grit my teeth. “You’ve always been like this.”

His brows pull together. “Like what?”

“Like everyone else should just fall in line around you, even before you became alpha.”

Something darker moves through his expression, bordering on impatience now. “You think this is about control?”

“I think you’re an alpha who’s used to getting his way.”

“I’m trying to keep you alive.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

The second the words leave my mouth, something changes in him, becoming even more intense somehow. “You’d rather I left you there with Hayes?”

“No.” My voice cracks with frustration, hating how he pushes me into a corner even now. “I’d rather you stop acting like this changes anything.”

“What exactly do you think this changes?”

Everything, or nothing. I don’t know, and I hate that I don’t know.

My chest feels too tight, and I gesture between us as if that might help me release it. “This! Whatever this is. You don’t get to swoop in after years of treating me like shit and suddenly decide you care.”

Hunter goes very still, and more guilt flickers across his face so fast it almost doesn’t register.

“I know I treated you badly,” he admits, that being the closest thing to real accountability I’ve ever heard from him.