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The last two words I didn’t understand. Not then. However, witches aren’t the only species with books on other languages. Old and hard to find, I procured a Latin dictionary in our library, the section on our origin story, and found the two words under another vow.
Because that’s what my little moon did. Promised to forget me. Rip me from her very essence.
“Over my dead body,” I snarl, pushing away a paper I’d been reading. Pack business, a request to visit a family member in the Spaniard territories that needs my signature, yet I can’t focus enough on it to sign. Because that’s the one thing the wolf and I agree on: she’s not rejecting or replacing us.
Hypocritical of me, I know, but don’t give a fuck either way.
I might’ve walked away and refused to accept her, but I never spoke the words. The bond is there, thriving, and strong, and it’s staying that way.
My fangs drop, and a heavy rumble builds in the back of my throat that quickly turns into a growl—angry and determined—at the mere thought. Wanting her has never been the issue. My mate is simply stunning, the scent of jasmine’s my personal nirvana, but there’s something I just can’t see past.
It’d be a slap in the faces of my family and pack. My mum is dead because of hers.
From one extreme to another, I want and I hate, then back again. A never-ending punishment. I’ve thought through this and tried to make sense of all angles, but the question remains: could we move past this?
Would she forgive me after I crushed her parent's hearts with my bare hands?
My wolf whines at the implication of hurting Isabella, the noise full of so much sadness and I rub my chest, trying to soothe the beast. He doesn’t see the world as I do, and nothing comes before one's mate. Yet I can’t do the same.
Rejecting her is right, but at what cost?
My wolf’s sanity. My humanity.
“I can’t live with her, but I can’t let her go either.” Exhaling, I sit back in my chair and close my eyes. At once, it’s her face I see. The big blue doe eyes and supple mouth, the soft curl at the upper right of her lips, and then the way she bit them when I held her throat. How her chest rose and fell quickly. How she mewled for me, shaking under my grip while her dress slid up and exposed the red strip of her hair just above her clit.
Neat, and the same shade as on her head—each hair artfully removed.
Soft while just the tiniest bit of wetness clung to the well-trimmed curls.
I swallow hard. Wishing I’d taken a taste against the large tree.
Hating her for the temptation.
Hating myself for wanting to forget my reasons and run after her. Claim what’s mine.
“We need to talk, Xadiel.” Gamma Cain says entering my office, pulling me from my thoughts, and my lids snap open. He shuts the door behind him before turning to face me, his expression one of stubborn determination. It immediately deflates my cock and I push those lingering thoughts—my wants—out of my head for now.
He’s one of the few here I’d let address me without the title. Something my best friend doesn’t take advantage of.
“Everything okay?” I ask, waving him forward to take a seat.
Cain takes the one across from me, watching me carefully. His head tilts. “You tell me. There’s something you’re not sharing?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” My brows furrow and my jaw ticks. Lately, my fuse is a little shorter. Moods fluctuate constantly, and it’s all her fault. My eternal torment.
“You’ve been acting strange, Xadiel.”
“Have I?” Didn’t think anyone would notice.
“Yes.” A bit more relaxed, my gamma crosses an ankle over the knee, then drums his fingers against the armrest. He’s also smiling; whatever he sees on my face amuses him. “Cranky, secretive, and lost in thought. Everyone’s been avoiding you in case you snap, but I recognize the pattern. Had something similar happened to me after finding my mate and the few days between her moving here.”
“You’re wrong, Cain. I didn’t—”
“And you’re a shit liar. Try that with someone who doesn’t know you.”
Running a tired hand down my face, I tug at the small beard growing on my chin. A new addition over the last few weeks. “It’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it.” His exasperation almost makes me smile. If only he knew. “This is our luna and queen you’re talking about, Xadiel. Her place is here. With her people.”
