Olivia POV
Frederick's brows rose faintly. For a moment he didn't answer — he just studied me with those cold, unreadable eyes of his. Then, slowly, he shook his head. "You misunderstand me, Olivia." His tone was calm, almost gentle. "I don't like her. But I can't deny… she's different. Her scent, her blood — it's unlike anything I've encountered in a long time."
I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest. "Different? That's all it takes for you to lose your composure? You looked like you wanted to rip her apart right there in front of everyone."
His jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You are misunderstanding things, Olivia."
I forced a bitter laugh. "Misunderstanding? Is that what you call it? Because from where I stood, you looked like you couldn't take your eyes off her. If you want her, then go be with her and let me return to my mates."
