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For a few seconds, I’m completely flabbergasted. My mouth opens and closes as I try to process all that’s happened in the few moments it took me to open the door and for him to start talking.

Once I get my bearings, though, I step even closer into his space and snarl at him. “First of all, what gives you the right to eavesdrop on my private conversation? If I wanted you to know what I was saying, I’d have said it to your face. I know you don’t have any home training in your lion form, but I thought you would at least have learned some decorum while you were walking on two feet.”

Primal opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand to stop him.

“Second, I’m not acting like a child. I meant what I said. I don’t need a babysitter or anyone to check on me. If I need help, I’ll ask for it. If I wanted someone to set up shop and spy on me through my windows, I’d ask for that too. However, I haven’t asked. Have I? No, I haven’t. I’m not sure what your end goal is here, Primal, or why you think you need to shadow me, but honestly, it’s getting very tiresome. I’m fine. Do you hear me? I. Am. Fine.” I’m breathing hard by the time I finish, but Primal doesn’t even flinch or back away from me.

There’s a spark in his gaze, something I can’t quite place, and for some reason, I long for more.

Longing?

I don’t understand why I feel this way.

Before I have much time to deliberate, he finally starts talking again. The sound of his voice breaks the spell.

“If you were truly fine, you wouldn’t need to stay away from us. You never have before. Something has changed, and you won’t admit it. You want to be stubborn about what’s going on, so be it. You don’t have to worry about me checking on you anymore. As you said, if you need help, you’ll call, just don’t call me.”

With that, he turns on his heel and walks away from me.

I want to pull him back and yell at him. I want to curse him out. Hell, part of me wants to jump on his back and claw at his eyes until he fights back.

I want more of this insane push-and-pull.

It’s the only thing in my world right now that feels normal.

The only thing that feels right . . . and I hate every part of losing all that I have.

Chapter

Nine

Primal

Fucking Sibley.

That woman irks every nerve I have.

With anger pulsing through me, I stomp to the bar and yank a full bottle of modified Jack off the wall. It’s the kind that gets a shifter drunk when regular alcohol doesn’t. The club stocks both for the supernatural and the purely human. I like to drink both, but right now I’m looking to get shit-faced. I want this feeling that just won’t go away gone, and I want it gone now.

I keep my back turned even as I hear Sibley storm out of the clubhouse. It’s obvious she’s pissed, but thankfully no one stops her on her way out.

I don’t care if she’s angry. There’s a legitimate reason for me to go to her place to check on her. The last time she was at the clubhouse, she had a vision so intense it made her collapse and scream in pain. Anyone with any sense would be concerned about her.

Why should I feel bad for going by her house to check on her? I don’t even understand why she would want me to feel bad about it.

Once the door closes behind her, I expect to feel better, but I don’t. Instead, I feel worse. It’s as if part of me went with her, and I don’t understand why.

What I really want to do is go out there, shift, and chase after her. Watch her every step of the way until I know she’s made it home safely.

That’s not my place.

She doesn’t want me to do that.

So, I won’t.

Instead of giving in to my instincts, I open the bottle of Jack and start guzzling it. I can handle my fair share of modified alcohol better than most shifters, but based on how I’m feeling right now, this bottle is going to have me shit-faced before I reach the halfway point, mostly because I haven’t eaten all day.

Maybe I should be looking for a different kind of distraction. Even after dismissing her, I’m sure the woman who tried to get attention earlier would be more than happy to come in for a rain check.