Chapter 50. My Marks on Her

Wren POV

Ansley was chattering about an idea she had concerning the growth of our pack, and I nodded mechanically, not interested in the least. I rotated gently on the wheels of my springed chair, waiting for her to realize that I wasn’t listening to a thing she was saying. It took longer than expected.

“Wren? Wren, are you even listening to me?” she prevailed, flinging her hands in the air.

“No,” I confessed, seeing no reason to lie. If I were lucky, she would get angry and leave me the hell alone. She was all rainbows and sunshine on the outside, but the real Ansley Vinley was a nagging bitch. She couldn’t even get pregnant, so that I wouldn’t have to go through the boring process of mating with her whenever I felt like torturing myself.

She sighed deeply, and I prepared myself for the tirade that would come next