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The Girl He Marked by Laila Callaway novel Chapter 1

Book 1 Chapter 7 

Jayce‘s POV (from the beginning) 

I march down the corridor lo Damien‘s office. I‘m pissed that he‘s called me into his office this early, he knows I hate getting up early. 

I walk around the corner and collide with someone much shorter than me. She stumbles backward and drops paper everywhere. I reach out instinctively and grab her arms to catch her. Tingles flow through my hands and along my arms as I touch her. Her scent hits me and I‘m transfixed. I watch, frozen, as she checks me out. 

I can‘t think properly. All i can think is, I‘ve found my mate. 

I take in her long chestnut hair and wide hazel eyes, she‘s stunning. 

She‘s human. 

Now that‘s something I wasn‘t expecting. 

I watch amusedly as she continues to check me out, her eyes trailing over my inked arms. 

I‘m sorry, I didn‘t see you there,’ she mumbles and kneels down to collect the paper. 

I decide it‘s best I don‘t say anything. I can‘t think straight and I‘ll probably say something I‘ll regret lat er. Instead, I just watch her silently. 

She straightens back up and her eyes harden. I know I should have helped her pick up the paper but I don‘t want to risk touching her again or being nice to her. I let out a sigh of relief as she steps around me and struts off down the corridor. I take a moment to collect myself and then walk into Damien‘s office. 

“You hired a human?‘ I ask incredulously and make myself comfortable on one of the chairs, Damien looks at me over a piece of paper and smiles. 

‘So, you met Myra?‘ 

‘Myra...‘ I look away and resist hitting something. 

Why did I have to meet my mate? Ive been doing just fine without her. She‘s human no less, she‘ll be useless with me. But at least because she‘s human, she won‘t feel the bond like I do. With any luck, she won‘t even notice me. 

I storm out of Damien‘s office and drive down to my favorite bar, as soon as I sit down on one of the stools, the bartender places a glass of whiskey in front of me. I know I come here more often than I proba bly should, but I have a lot on my mind. 

I down the drink and tap the empty glass, gesturing to the bartender to refill it. I groan and put my head in my hands. 

What am I going to do? 

‘If you don‘t get up I will pour this on you, he threatens me, holding up a bottle of water. I scowl and grab it out of his hand, chugging the liquid greedily. 

Kill me now

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