Did she just call him fiancé?
The words hit me like a slap. My hands dropped from his neck as if his skin burned. Devon's fingers flexed on my ass, like he was going to keep me pinned there anyway, but I shoved him hard enough that he actually let go.
Andrea stood in the doorway, arms crossed, honey-brown eyes glassy with tears.
"You heard me," she said, voice shaking. "Fiancé. Three years promised, Devon. Three years."
Devon didn't even glance at her. His stare stayed locked on me, jaw tight. "Andrea, get out."
"No." She stepped inside, heels clicking. "Not until you explain why you're dry-fucking some Omega on your desk the night of our unification ceremony."
I laughed, sharp and ugly. "Some Omega. Cute."
Devon finally turned his head. His voice dropped to that lethal quiet that made grown warriors piss themselves. "I said get out."
Andrea flinched, but she didn't move. "Answer me."
