IVAN'S POV
"You bastard!" she shrieked as she stormed up to me. "How could you do this to me? You were about to marry me, Ivan! Marry me! And I walk in to see you almost fucking your rejected mate like—"
I ignored her. I needed something stronger than her screeching. I crossed the room, grabbed the nearest bottle of wine from the table, and ripped the cork out with my teeth.
The liquid burned down my throat, drowning out the sound of her hysteria.
"Are you even listening to me?!" she followed me.
"No," I said flatly, pulling out a glass now and pouring, just to down it in one swallow.
