They’d fucked up, bad. He knew it now, bone deep. He taken Shaw home two days ago and the pup had done nothing but cry out in his sleep. When Jordan fell asleep, he dreamed of their mate—dreamed of chasing her, touching her, adoring her. The problem was that their mate was Stephanie. Something had gone wrong. Terribly, totally wrong. So here he was, to apologize. To ask her to forgive them, to take the spell off. Ask her to… The door opened and she looked like shit—hair mussed, eyes bruised. “What the hell do you want, Jordan?” His lips opened to talk, but he was a little stunned by the sight of her. “I…” “I have a client coming, man, and a vicious headache. Did you two leave something behind?” He nodded. “Our mate.” Her pretty, pretty eyes filled with tears, lips parting. “You asshole. You come here… I did your goddamn spell. I did what you asked. Now you have to go away.” “But we…” They needed her. “I don’t care, Jordan. I don’t. I gave you what you wanted.
