Chapter 60

Olivia Martins

Bridget’s scent clung to his skin like a second layer.

I froze, immediately filled with disgust.

No.

No, no, no.

I shoved at his chest.

He didn’t budge at first. He was still lost in it, kissing my neck, gripping my waist like he needed me to breathe.

“Caspian,” I said, sharper now, pushing harder. “Let me go.”

His head lifted, dazed and flushed. “What?”

I scrambled out from under him, my heart pounding. My body was still aching for him, still wet, still hot, but I couldn’t ignore it. I wouldn’t.

“You were with her,” I spat.

He blinked, confused and drunk, like the sentence didn’t register. Then he gave a slow, dismissive shrug and leaned back on his elbows.

“She’s my mate,” he said simply, like that explained everything. Like that excused it.

Rage clawed up my throat.

“She’s not your fucking mate, I am.” I snapped.

He groaned and dragged a hand through his hair, looking b