Love.
She edged out of the doorway, attention centered on the resting couple, Byron's eyes never leaving hers. When she could no longer stand to see the two, she turned her back on them and strode through her home toward the kitchen. Their combined scent seemed to chase her, taunting her, showing her what she'd never had and obviously didn't deserve.
She needed a drink. A big one.
With shaking hands, she pulled a sparkling, crystal glass from the cabinet and poured two fingers of whiskey. In one gulp, she downed the fiery, foul tasting alcohol and tipped the bottle to pour another. God only knew how Byron managed to stomach the stuff, but she needed to numb the feelings that bounced and ricocheted through her heart. Jealousy, anger, resentment ... they all fought for dominance. Her wolf wanted blood, but her human heart just wanted to crawl in a hole and fade away.
Her ears perked when the soft scuffle of feet and shifting of fabric filled the silence. She tracked the movement, using her heightened senses to her advantage, as always. Within moments, the musky scent of Byron, and sex, filled the kitchen, overpowering everything else, even the whiskey.
"Alyssa?"
She downed another glass. What was that? Two? No, three so far. Damn, she still had her demons fighting for supremacy within. She took a deep, cleansing breath through her mouth, adopted a blank expression and turned slowly. No sense in letting the man see how affected she was about all that she'd seen.
"Byron." She wouldn't twitch. Or flinch. Or tear up and beg him to look at her the way he'd looked at the woman in her bedroom, now using her bathroom. She wouldn't because while she wanted those things, she realized she didn't want them from him. Her wolf snarled and growled, but she tamped down the urge to show dominance over this man. Their entire relationship had been a struggle to keep the wolf under control and all she could do was reassure it that this would all be over ... soon.
"Alyssa, look..."
"Lyssa, Byron," she corrected with a snap.
She hated her given name. Hated. It. He knew that and still insisted on calling her Alyssa. Three years of "Alyssa" and she was ready to snap him like a twig if he didn't listen to her right now. Inhaling another deep breath, she begged her wolf not to wrench control away and tear, literally, into the man. She took a swig of alcohol and wondered when she'd start to feel its affects.
"Lyssa," he amended. "Look, what you saw was ... You see ... I don't..."
She sighed. This was exactly why she'd never taken his flesh between her fangs and mated the man. He couldn't even stand up to her, how was he supposed to live with her family? Her pack? Defend their cubs?
"You don't love me, Byron. Newsflash: I don't love you. We don't love each other. What we have, had, was comfortable and it worked. At least until you brought Home-wrecker Barbie into the picture."
Byron's eyes flashed and a rush of blood suffused his cheeks.
Ooh, human man is mad.
"That's not fair, Lyssa. Carmen has nothing to do with us. You said it yourself, we had comfortable and I want more than that from life." He ran a hand through his hair.
She poured herself another glass. This time, she made sure to fill it to the top. Why the hell did Byron always sip the stuff? It didn't really have a punch at all and only managed a tingling burn going down. She hoped at some point, she'd get drunk enough to drown the jealousy raging in her gut.
"Yeah," she sighed. "You're right. We had comfortable and now ... we don't." She smiled and shrugged, but didn't feel the least bit of warmth, happiness or aloofness she tried to convey over the discovery. Over. All of it. Three years of living with a man who her wolf could hardly tolerate and it was gone. Ruined. By love. For someone else.
She tossed back the rest of her drink and moved to pour another only to discover the bottle empty. Well, that just wouldn't do. "I'm going out for the evening, Byron, but I'll be back tomorrow and we can discuss divvying up the things in the house and figure out when you'll move out. Tell your cowering doe in the bathroom that she's got a nice ass."
Lyssa winked at her ex and smiled a true smile as she brushed past him. She always did like to shock the man, either with her behavior or saying things at inappropriate times. Like ... now. "Maybe I'll have a little taste sometime."
She strode through the ranch style home, passing pieces of their history as she approached the door. Different items caught her eye while she walked. The picture of them at the Grand Canyon, the tribal mask from Africa, and the sculptures they'd purchased together in Italy. All of it spoke of a different time. A time when "comfortable" had been enough and mediocre sex was status quo. All of it was gone now, buried beneath Byron and his new lover's writhing bodies and dirty sheets.
Lyssa grabbed her purse from the couch as she strode through the living room and slid the strap over her shoulder. Without a backward glance, she stepped into the soft light of the waning day and shut the door behind her with a soft click. Now, she could crumble.
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