Fuming, I wasn’t sure what had just happened. I looked at the mess I’d made by throwing the plate across the room, but I couldn’t make myself care about it. Blaise probably assumed I’d hop right outta bed and clean it up. I couldn’t get over that he thought he’d be granting me this amazingly easy life if I’d just give up everything and become his personal servant. I’d fill my time with cleaning and cooking for him, but it would all be okay because he’d come home and fuck me at the end of the day.

Sick as it was, my body still responded to that last thought—sex with Blaise. I hadn’t had enough. When he’d held me and kissed me, I’d forgotten everything else. I’d just wanted him. It was wrong, though. Blaise couldn’t be farther from the right man for me. I had to get out of there.

A whirlwind had descended on my life and tossed me into some alternate reality where things made zero sense. Dragons existed and some of them were misogynistic asshats.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Men were men anywhere, right? Apparently, even across worlds. I couldn’t get over the look on his face when he’d explained that I could just cook and clean for him for the rest of my life. Forever. He’d looked so proud of himself, like he was the best man ever for allowing me to clean up his mess. Not to mention the fact that his place was a pig sty.

A fresh round of fury scorched out the sorrow that I was simultaneously feeling. It was like there was a separate being in me that didn’t care how Blaise treated me, as long as he came back and we were together. That big dumb part of me. He hadn’t treated me poorly, that part of me shouted. While that was true, allowing myself to make excuses like that for him was dangerous. For all I knew, I could end up like my mother.

I needed to go home where I couldn’t think everything through the way I needed to. I hurt all over, and it was hard to think around Blaise. Besides, there was a whole other conversation taking place in the back of my mind about who’d poured gasoline all over my hut.

As I cooled down, I regretted throwing a plate at Blaise. I was a mess. I needed space to think and make sense.

I’m sorry.

I jolted. Blaise wasn’t in the room, but I’d clearly heard his voice in my head.

“Blaise?” My voice shook. Horrified, I jerked around to see if he was hiding somewhere. “This isn’t funny…”

He wasn’t there, though. I was hearing him in my head. More of his thoughts were bouncing around, but I did everything I could to shut them out. I didn’t want to go there right then.

I fought to get to my feet and tried to limp across the room. The skin on the bottom of my foot tugged, and I forced myself to fight through the pain.

It was one thing to ignore Blaise when he said that we were mates, but having his thoughts pushed into my head, I couldn’t ignore that. I couldn’t pretend the signs weren’t there. The faster I could get away, the faster I could get back to ignoring him and put the reality of our situation in perspective.

Maybe there was a way out of it. Surely, you weren’t just stuck with your mate just because you had a bite mark on your neck. Free will and all of that. I wasn’t going to spend my life with a man who was so domineering and controlling. I couldn’t. That had been my mother’s downfall. It was the reason that my sister and I had to grow up in foster care being shuffled from one place to another and never really belonging to anyone. I would not be blinded by stupid feelings and amazing sex. I was smarter than that.

Before I reached the door, it opened. Blaise spotted me hobbling around and rushed toward me. I should’ve flinched. If I was so worried about him being domineering and controlling, why did my body relax? Was I so messed up?

He scooped me into his arms and hurried into the bathroom. “You are bleeding, mate.”

“Don’t call me that.” My voice was sharp, much more forceful than I intended.

He lowered me onto the side of the tub and closed his eyes for a second. “I need to take care of your foot. Can you not throw anything at me?”

I looked down and got a little lightheaded at the sight of the fresh blood that had already tainted the white marble tub. “Shit.”

“Please do not fight me right now, Chyna. You will hurt yourself.”

“Did I hit a vein? Why is there so much blood?” I swayed. “Oh, god. There’s more.”

Blaise gruffly chuckled. “You are okay. Cherry brought an ointment from the pharmacy to put on it. It will help it remain germ-free and heal faster.”

“An antibiotic. Good.”

“You must lay down and allow it to heal.” His voice dipped. “We can argue about whatever you want to argue about later. For now, please allow yourself to heal, and allow me to care for you. Please.”

Even in my nauseated state, I could tell that Blaise wasn’t used to begging. He had humbled himself. For me. Feeling weaker and like that huge dummy part of me was growing stronger, I nodded. “Fine. But it doesn’t mean anything.”

Blaise brushed my hair out of my face and tenderly touched his lips to the top of my head. “It means everything to me.”

I closed my eyes. I told myself it was so I wouldn’t have to see any more blood. But I think it was more of an attempt to close off some of the connection I was feeling with Blaise. He had a heavy look on his face, and something behind those oddly colored eyes hinted that he wanted more than just a maid. I didn’t want to see it.

His thoughts were too strong. They invaded my head even though I’m not sure he even wanted them to.

I should’ve kept her here. She would not have suffered injuries had I been a better mate. This is my fault. What kind of male allows an injury like this to happen to his female?

I squeezed my eyes shut more tightly and tried harder to block his thoughts. I needed to keep a wall between us. A wall of anger and distance. So, as soon as I was feeling a little better, I could get the hell out of there and not look back. I wasn’t about to spend my life acting as a housewife, but I had a feeling that if I got to know Blaise better, I might end up making too many compromises in that direction. It was probably in my blood.

“I’m going to bandage your foot again and then run you an oatmeal bath. It helped your skin last night. I will finish washing your hair, too.”

“Pass.”

“Chyna—”

“It’s okay, Blaise. I just want to get back in bed.”

“Fine. For now.”

I held my breath as he doctored my foot, his hands gentle against my skin. He held my ankle like it was made of porcelain. When his palms cupped my calves, my body reacted like he’d stroked my girlie parts. My libido was out of control. If Blaise noticed, though, he said nothing. That was one blessing in an otherwise hellish situation.

“Okay.” His voice was sandpaper as he stood and lifted me easily into his arms. “Bed for you. Unless you would like me to carry you to the couch to watch TV or something.”

“Bed, please.” We could both be polite.

“I will tuck you in bed and then prepare you more breakfast.”

I wanted to apologize for throwing the first breakfast he’d made me at his head, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I remained quiet and let him place me on the bed. As soon as he released me, I moved away and pretended to be focused on adjusting the blankets over my legs.

“I am not a chef. I will try my best.”

“How have you not starved to death without a mate around to cook your meals?”

Catching my snark, Blaise simply stared at me for a few moments before shaking his head and leaving me alone.

I let my head fall back against the pillows. They smelled like him. Sigh.