Werewolf Mates [Pack Law 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Becca van

but that never happened. My husband didn’t want to waste money on me, so I put my plans on the back burner.
    “Peter Strom, my husband, had opened his own insurance business, and we needed money to live until he was established. So I worked at whatever I could to pay the rent.
    “I was so in love with him, or thought I was, that I would have done anything to support him. We were happy for the first twelve months, or seemed to be, and he worked hard trying to make a success of his business. Then he began to turn spiteful.” Sam paused and finished off her tea. She looked to Roan and Chet, and they looked at her encouragingly.
    “Go on, honey,” Justin said and stroked her hair.
    “He never had anything nice to say to or about me, and since he was six years older than I was, I thought I was somehow lacking.
    “He started picking on the way I dressed, the way I wore my hair, and the curves of my body. He used to tell me I was ugly and my boobs were too big. Little by little he chipped away at my self-esteem until I had nothing left inside but emptiness and bitterness toward the man who was supposed to love me.
    “Peter started coming home late every night, and when I questioned him he became so furious with me, I backed off and tried to soothe him instead. In the end I was glad he didn’t come home until the early hours of the morning, because I had become so afraid of his mood swings and temper that I was scared he would take it out on me.” She took a deep breath and fidgeted with her mug.
    “Do you want another tea, darlin’?” Roan asked.
    “Please.” She handed over her empty mug and clutched her now-empty hands. Following Roan with her eyes, she continued.
    “When he was home he would criticize everything about me, even what I cooked him for dinner. Peter’s business failed. He found another job with a large insurance company, and I thought he would be happier without the worry of the business hanging over his head. Ha, what a joke. Even though he had a job, he stopped contributing to the running of the household, and I had to take on a second job just to make ends meet.
    “One day six months ago, he arrived home before me. I was two months pregnant, but I still had worked for eight hours at the local supermarket ringing up groceries and then worked another six hours in a bar serving drinks. My feet and back were aching, and I was so tired I could barely keep her eyes open. I knew as soon as I opened the door that Peter was home. Feeling the thick tension in the air, I headed straight for the kitchen, trying to avoid him. Just as I finished my glass of water, I knew he was there, standing behind me. The hair at my nape stood on end.” Sam paused, reached out for the mug of fresh tea Roan handed her, and sipped.
    “Thanks,” she said and took a deep breath. Her body was tense, and each of the men with her offered her comfort in some small way. Justin was still stroking her hair and Roan reached for her free hand and enveloped it in his, while Chet sat close and rubbed her shoulder.
    “He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me into our bedroom, causing me to cry out with pain and fear. Pushing at him to get him to release me was utterly futile and only further exacerbated his rage. He cursed me and threw me at the bed, and when I tried to scramble away from him, he pinned me in place. Then the accusations began.
    “He accused me of having an affair, of running around behind his back, spreading my legs for every male in the city. If the notion hadn’t been so ludicrous, I would have laughed. When was I supposed to have found the time or energy to go cavorting around with other men when I worked two jobs? And I realized after a moment I had actually asked that question out loud.
    “Peter didn’t reply. Instead he started hitting me. He cursed me for holding him back and told me he hated my guts. He was smart about his abuse. He didn’t hit my face where any of the bruises could be seen. It didn’t