"Well I'll be damned," Butcher said in a dangerously low voice.

You stood in the kitchen, eyes wide. You'd been dating Butcher for a couple months, softening the aggressive Brit around the edges. What you'd neglected to mention was that you were a supe.

You meant to tell him, honest. But you were scared.

"When were you going to tell me, you bloody cunt?" Butcher scoffed, stepping closer. "Or were you just going to keep on lying? Are you working with Vought, is that it?"

You were silent, backing up farther. You bowed your head in an attempt not to cry.

"Speak," he bellowed, sounded furious and a little hurt.