#Chapter 11: Mine

Eric’s POV I know I’m making her uncomfortable, but does she even think about how she makes me feel? She looks a bit ridiculous sitting in that big leather swivel chair practically engulfing her. If she just sat up straight and even pretended she had an ounce of power, she would look more natural. If she were my fated-mate then all this would be hers. No. Stop. These are the very thoughts I detest and that drove me towards being cold to Annie to the point of her leaving. Besides I’ve worked too hard to just have some woman come and take it. That’s all women are after anyways. It always has been. I squint at Renee and let out a frustrated sigh. Renee tenses at this and I’m fully aware I’m pushing her away despite my impulse to draw her near- if only to get a whiff of her all too familiar scent. Annie’s face formulates in my mind, it’s the last clear image from memory I have of her. Since her pronounced death the images of her are fading, becoming dull and fuzz around the edges.