His body goes still, the storm in his eyes raging. "Divorce?"
I nod, the movement almost frantic. "Yes. I think it would be for the best." And it would keep me, you know, alive. "You'd be free to look for your fated mate—"
One minute, he's standing in front of the bed.
In the next, he has me by the jaw, looming over me as he growls, "What bullshit are you spouting, wife?"
Terror pierces through me, leaving me as still as stone. "I—"
Knox's grip tightens, his fingers digging into my jaw. His free hand grabs mine, shoving it against his neck. My fingertips brush against something rough and raised.
"Do you feel that?" His voice rumbles, low and dangerous. "Are you rejecting our mate bond?"
My breath catches in my throat. Mate bond? I trace the silvery, semicircular scar beneath my fingers. How did I miss this? The book never mentioned...
We're mated? This makes no sense. This is wrong. So, so wrong. It doesn't go with the plot at all!
"Knox, I—" The words die on my lips. My mind reels, desperately trying to make sense of this new information.
Marriage isn't always synonymous with mating in this world, so it is uncommon for a marriage of convenience to come with a mating mark.
And it was very, very clear in the book Knox was never mated to Vivienne. If he was, he would never have found his fated mate, right? Or—is it possible…? Am I mixing up this world's rules with other books I've read?
My head spins.
"Answer me, Vivienne." His amber eyes bore into mine, a maelstrom of fury. "Are you rejecting our bond?"
I swallow hard, even as I mentally flip through my memories of this plot. "It's not about rejection. I just thought—"
A growl rips from his chest, cutting me off. In one swift motion, he yanks the blanket off me. His hand slips under the hem of my oversized shirt to find my thigh, his sexy fingers splaying across my skin. A jolt of electricity shoots through me at his touch, leaving me breathless and yearning for a hell of a lot more.
"Is this why?" he snarls, his grip tightening. "Why you demanded a bite that wouldn't be seen in public?"
I gasp, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through my body. It all seems to start from where his thumb's digging into my leg, which sounds crazy but is actually happening, so… yeah, it's still crazy.
But when I look down, it all becomes clear.
There's a mating mark there.
Who the fuck gets a mating mark on their inner thigh? Oh, book-Vivienne, what the hell did you do to screw up this plot?
Knox is supposed to feel trapped in this marriage. I'm the villainess with unrequited feelings. None of this is translating in my head. How can he be so possessive over someone he can't stand?
"N-no," I stammer, struggling to form coherent thoughts. "That's not... It has nothing to do with why I want a divorce."
His eyes flash dangerously. "We will never divorce." The words come out as a low, menacing growl, making my spine shiver.
I try to pull away, but his grip is unyielding. "Knox, please. You don't understand—"
"Then make me understand," he demands, his face inches from mine. "Because right now, all I see is my mate trying to leave me."
My mind tries desperately to catch up to this new flow of events, but nothing's clicking. "You don't love me," I blurt out, wincing his fingers flex against my jaw. "You can't stand me."
"This was never a pairing based on love. We have an agreement, don't we?"
Panic has my lungs shriveling to a third of their size, making it impossible to keep my body supplied with oxygen. "I want to cancel it. This isn't working for me anymore."
Knox's lip curls into a sneer.
"Those pills must have messed with your mind." His voice drips with disdain, but there's a strange undercurrent in his words. "Get your head on straight. A proper doctor will tend to you."
The way he emphasizes 'proper' sends a chill down my spine. What does he mean by that?
His grip on my jaw loosens with a slight push, a silent demand I stay in bed. It's not enough to hurt, but the message is clear: he's done with this conversation.
I watch, frozen, as this body's husband—and mate—storms out of the room. The door slams behind him, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. It's as if he's taken all the energy, all the tension, with him.
My body sags against the pillows, shock coursing through my system. What the actual fuck is going on?
This isn't how it's supposed to be. Knox shouldn't care this much. He's supposed to be indifferent, cold, focused on his work and barely acknowledging my existence. That's what the book said. That's what I prepared myself for.
But this Knox? This possessive, intense version of him? He's a stranger to me. A dangerous, unpredictable stranger who apparently thinks we have a mate bond.
My fingers find their way to my neck, searching for a mark I know isn't there.
The bite on my thigh burns, making me squirm. Why would Vivienne ask for a hidden mark?
It doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. I'm close to a breakdown and in desperate need of grounding.
I close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing.
The room feels too big, too empty now. The opulence surrounding me is cold and impersonal, leaving me adrift in a sea of luxury, with no idea how to navigate these treacherous waters.
Even my knowledge of the plot is working against me.
My mind races, replaying every interaction since I woke up in this world. Dr. Graham's cool professionalism and lack of sisterly affection. Bobby's nervousness, even as he tends to my every need. Knox's disdain, suspicion, and now his possessiveness.
They all paint a picture of a Vivienne I don't know, a woman I don't want to be.
But I have to be her, don't I? At least until I figure out what's going on and get a real second start, far from the plot of this book.
A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle it. God, what am I doing? I'm in a world where werewolves exist, mated to a man who's supposed to kill me, and I'm worried about playing a role? I'll be lucky to get out of this without my throat torn out.
The laughter dies as quickly as it came, leaving behind a hollow feeling in my chest. I'm alone here. Truly, utterly alone. No family, no friends, no one I can trust with all the things swimming in my head.
My eyes land on Vivienne's phone, and I snatch it off the dresser. I'd lost hope anything was hidden within it after Knox said she never touches it, but—it was beneath the bed, like she'd fallen asleep with it.
Maybe there's something in it after all.