“Damn it!” he yelled. “I am trying to figure this out, El, but you have to meet me halfway.”
I shook my head. Nyxthra’s rage pulsed in my veins, feeding my certainty. He would leave me, maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but the moment he looked at his mate again, I would become an afterthought.
“No, I don’t. You lost me the moment I begged my coven to let me search for you because I thought you were deathly wounded. I told them that my husband would never forget me. How fucking wrong was I.”
His eyes filled with tears, flashing red, but even that didn’t move Nyxthra.He cries now? Now?she spat.
“I’m not letting you leave until you sleep and talk with me in the morning,” he declared.
“Where’s your mate?” I hissed, Nyxthra’s venom lacing every word.
“Home.” He glared.
“What did you tell her? That I was just some crazy fucking woman you had to calm down?”
My chest was heaving, every inhale burning. Inside, I was breaking into jagged pieces, and Nyxthra tried to gather them, to shield me with something sharper than sorrow.
“I told her you were my wife, and I needed time to figure out what to do. And she was understanding, unlike you.”
Nyxthra let out a feral laugh in my mind.Understanding. Of course she was.
I rolled my eyes.
“Well there’s your sign to run back to little miss perfect.”
“Will you shut the fuck up?” He moved back toward me. “Do I need to tie you to the bed or to me so you won’t leave?”
Nyxthra surged like a storm, ready to rip the air apart, but I swallowed the scream rising in my throat. Arguing was pointless. He wasn’t listening.
“Fine, but I am leaving tomorrow. There is nothing to figure out. You have a mate, and it is not me. My curse made sure of that, and the heavens did not think I was good enough for you.”
My voice cracked, the words cutting me open from the inside. The moment they left my mouth, Nyxthra retreated inside of me.
“Quit reminding me that you are not my mate,” he sighed. “And you are too good for me, little weaver.”
Something inside me caved. My chest felt like my heart was being torn out one slow inch at a time. With Nyxthra gone, the rage drained out of me and all that was left was grief—heavy, cold, suffocating.
“Why won’t you let me leave?” My voice broke despite my best effort to sound strong. “You will never leave a mate for anyone. I did my research, Abram. You will always choose her over me. If you think having a conversation about this in the morning will make this easier for me then don’t waste your time.”
I looked away because looking at him felt wrong now, like I was stealing something that had never belonged to me. But I forced myself to look back up at him anyway.
“You found out today that I wasn’t your mate?” I asked.
“Elowyn, please.” His voice fractured. “I don’t even know what’s happening. It’s like… it’s like today was ripped from my mind. Please, don’t leave. I don’t want her. I want you.”
“Answer my question,” I demanded, though my voice was barely above a whisper.
Defeat washed over him like he was drowning in it. And watching him, this man who had held me, chosen me, laughed with me, look so wrecked should’ve made me feel vindicated. But it only made everything hurt worse.
Abram wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t heartless. And none of this was his fault. He didn’t choose who fate tied him to. But knowing that didn’t soften the blow. It made it more tragic. Because maybe—maybe if he’d been allowed to choose, he would’ve picked me.
But that would never be our reality.
“The bond snapped into place when we left Thomas’ house in Falgon,” he confessed.
Another layer of betrayal slid coldly down my spine. I stared at him as agony filled his green eyes. Somehow, his pain only deepened mine.
“Oh, my gods.” Tears streamed down my face. “You made me look stupid. I went on talking about how Thomas might be wrong, and you agreed with me, knowing you were close enough to your mate that your fucking bond formed!”
