Page 28 of Abandoned By My Alpha Husband

Her shoulders dropped. Just for a second, then tensed again. She stood there watching me, a brightness in her eyes I saw before she forced it down. Her lips moved like she wanted to speak, then stopped.

I took a step forward. I wanted to tell her she couldn't be this careless again. But what came out was different. "As Luna, you're Liam's mother in name. You failed to take care of him. Do you deserve to be his mother?"

I regretted it immediately. Too sharp. It landed hard—I saw it in her face. Her lips pressed tight, but she didn't back away. Didn't cry. Just stood there looking at me, chest rising and falling.

Finally, she said, "You think I did it on purpose? I was worried about Liam. I'm heartbroken."

"Your worry and heartbreak are useless," I said.

"What about you?"

Elena's voice changed. That tremor disappeared, replaced by something else—hard, cold. She stepped forward from the bed, staring at me. "Besides standing here yelling at me, what have you done?"

"What?"

"You tell me I'm not fit to be a mother," she said, each word deliberate. "You tell me I wasn't careful enough. You told me to get out. But what about you? How much time have you spent with Liam? You think you've raised him right?"

Anger spread through me, burning away any regret for my harsh words. "You're lecturing me?" I was Reserpine's king. Even the Elders didn't dare.

Elena crossed her arms. She shrugged, mouth twisting—not a smile, a sneer. "Oh no, of course not lecturing. I'm just curious why the king's adopted son is so rude he says things like 'bad woman' and 'I'll kill you.' Is that how you Hales raise children?"

She stepped closer, eyes locked on mine, words still coming. "When he pushed me, threw mud at me—you didn't think I was his mother then? Lucifer Hale, you think you're so perfect?"

She dared question me? Question Reserpine's king, the Alpha?

No one ever dared.

Liam was just young—unable to accept Elena "stealing" Lina's place. His actions weren't great, but understandable.

Yet she glared at me, eyes wide—no intimidation at all. Strangely, my anger cooled a fraction. But Elena kept going, mouth moving, lamplight catching on her lips, making them look glossy. My breathing grew ragged. Her sharp words buzzed around my ears, but I couldn't hear them anymore. Only one thought filled my head.

I needed to shut her up.

I grabbed her shoulders, pushed her back onto the bed, into the soft covers. She cried out—I swallowed it with my mouth on hers.

Soft. Wet.

I froze for a second. Then, almost instinctively, my hand slid down her side. Elena made a muffled sound of protest and tried to push me away. I caught her wrist with my other hand and pinned it above her head. She frowned, then bit down hard. I pulled back, hissing. Elena stared at me, defiant, chest heaving, the curve of it like waves breaking through the last of my control.

I'd lost it.

I kissed her again, tongue forcing its way in, prying her teeth apart. This time Elena kissed back just as fiercely, anger bleeding into it.

I pulled her close and pressed her body against mine. My wolf groaned. That familiar shiver ran down my spine—exactly like five years ago—

I couldn't hold back anymore.

My hands found the hem of her dress. She gasped against my mouth, fingers digging into my shoulders—not to push away, but to pull me closer. Her nails scraped skin. The fabric tore. I should have cared. I didn't.

Her breath came in short bursts. Mine matched hers. The lamp flickered. Shadows danced across the walls. The mattress dipped under our weight. I felt her everywhere—heat, softness, the frantic pulse at her throat.

But then I stopped.

My forehead pressed against hers, breath ragged. "Elena." My voice came out hoarse, barely controlled. "Do you want this?"

For a heartbeat, she didn't move. Then her hand came up, fingers threading through my hair, pulling me down. Her eyes burned into mine.

"Shut up and kiss me," she whispered.