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“Hey, I’ve got a better idea!” she said in an overly bright and high-pitched voice. I assumed it was her attempt to imitate me. Her eyes flashed wolf. “How about you fuck off instead?”

I so wasn’t in the mood for this shit. My temper skyrocketed, but I fought it back. “I don’t know what your problem is with me, and I honestly don’t care. Whatever it is you think I’m here for, I can guarantee you’re wrong.”

“I think you’re here to beg my male to fuck you like the pathetic little bitch you are,” she snapped. “Well, you can’t have him. For one, he doesn’t want you. And for another, I’m here to give it to him the way he likes it.”

Ouch, that fucking hurt, way more than it should. This entire thing fucking hurt, but that was my problem, not Ren’s. Still, I wasn’t some emotionless robot, and holding in my anger was hard, especially after the crappy day I’d had. “I’m so happy for you both, you deserve each other, but—”

“Jaz?” Ren moved in beside Breanne. “Ah…hey.”

“Hey. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something, but we have to do this tonight, you know, like we arranged yesterday.” I sounded pissed, snappish, and seriously judgmental. I didn’t want to be any of those things, and that pissed me off as well.

He smelled of alcohol as well, and I was seriously thankful they were both fully dressed, unlike the last time I saw Breanne here. “Yeah, right. Sorry, I lost track of time. Come in.”

“You’re asking her in?” Breanne snarled.

He turned to her. “This’ll take a while.”

“I’ll wait.”

He shook his head. “No, you’ll go.”

She stared at him for long seconds, her lips curling, fury burning in her eyes. “If I leave, I won’t ever come back.”

Ren said nothing, just stood there.

She growled so loud, I jumped. Then she disappeared back into his apartment and grabbed her jacket, bag, and a bottle of vodka. “Your loss, asshole.” Then she stormed off.

Awkward silence filled the space between us.

He rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about that.”

“What the fuck, Ren?” I said before I could stop myself. “You knew we were doing this tonight. What the hell is wrong with you? I can’t believe you’ve been drinking.”

His eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t aware I had to run every minute of my day by you.”

I stared at him. Was he serious? Yeah, he was drunk, or at least on his way, but really? I shoved down my anger. Arguing with him was a waste of time and energy. “Let’s just get this over with.” I strode into the living room, dumped my bag on the couch, found my candles, and set them out on the rug.

I sensed Ren walking in behind me and ignored him, going back to my bag and getting out the salt and cemetery dirt and laying out my line, followed by the string and rosemary, and setting them out as well, while saying my protection spell. The mortar and pestle were next. I put them on his table and angrily pounded together the ingredients for my soul-repelling oil. The souls would get riled when I started tattooing his sigils again, and I needed to make sure they continued to work, which meant I still had to remove my sigil charms and protect myself with oil since they were so volatile. Ren watched all of this but still said nothing.

Yesterday, in this very room, he told me that Breanne meant nothing to him, that he was done with her. He’d also kissed my neck, which I knew had nothing to do with me and everything to do with my power, but humiliatingly, I thought about it on and off all day, and the way I’d made him laugh, because again, I was an idiot. And when he’d seen me with Rome this morning, there’d been this look on his face? He hadn’t liked it. Why I didn’t know, but it obviously wasn’t because he wanted me for himself, something I’d secretly hoped.

He was still quiet, and I could see out of the corner of my eyes that he had his arms folded, a stubborn damn look on his face now, which was probably why instead of going to his room to strip, I did it right there.

What I was trying to achieve, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. He obviously saw me as nothing, barely a female, not desirable, not anything at all, so why hide? Did I think this would change his mind? Put a crack in that armor, make him sorry for choosing literally everyone over me, or make him feel shitty for hurting me over and over again. No. Because he didn’t even know he was doing it.

Still, it made me feel better somehow.

I stripped down to my bra and panties, then without pausing took them off as well. It was hard, but I ignored his sharp indrawn breath and got busy smearing oil all over my body. He didn’t avert his gaze. I felt his eyes on me the entire time, probably because he was drunk and I was throwing my naked ass in his face. “Get on the mat, Ren,” I said as I smeared oil over my breasts and down my stomach.

He didn’t move. “Jasmine—”

“Now,” I bit out. “And take your shirt off.”

He growled low under his breath but did as I said, and my stupid belly quivered at that rough sound. I covered the last of my skin with oil, grabbed my bag, and stepped into the string line with Ren.

I quickly removed my necklace and cuffs, placing them outside the barrier. I’d felt the souls pressing in as soon as I walked in the house. I was positive the sigils I’d selected for Ren were the correct combination, but I needed to know for sure. They stood around the string line, moaning and screaming, begging me for help, but it was more distant than it had been. The sigils I’d already done were definitely working. I tried to tune them out now, to not feel their pain and fear, and to focus on what I had to do. It wasn’t easy.

I checked the sigils I’d drawn on his skin with my tattoo marker. They’d held up well. I took out the box with my portable tattoo machine. It was small and light but did the job.