I resigned myself to spending the rest of the drive in silence. I was still glad to have gotten to know her a tiny bit more, though I instantly hated her adoptive family and vowed to look into them further.
Only an unethical alpha would adopt a child merely to send her away like luggage. That wasn’t love, it was transactional.
It wasn’t until my tires hit the gravel of Sandrine’s driveway that she truly broke my heart.
“I need to be very clear so there is no misunderstanding between us. Without my calling, I am nothing. Worthless. I will never be your mate. It would kill me.”
Chapter 7
Elodie
Itook the coward’s way out, not looking at him as I delivered the death blow.
The death of his hopes and dreams so I could keep mine. I clung to them like a life raft, and I wasn’t strong enough to stop.
It was cowardly because I knew in my bones that he was right. If he was truly my fated mate, if we let the connection grow… it was ordained by the Goddess and could only be a gift. Blessed.
But it also meant that the life I was living wasn’tmine. And that was too painful to consider.
So I took the dagger from my own throat and held it to his instead. And he let me, because he may have been the enemy, but he was also an honorable man.
Any other male would have forced the issue, yet he didn’t. He wanted to know me, not force me.
Why did that hurt worse? If he’d tried to push the bond on me, I could have hated him. Properly hated him. But instead, I was the dick causing us both pain.
Refusing our destinies.
But I was so fucking scared to consider any other option. And a warrior couldn’t afford to be scared.
He parked the truck in front of the loveliest little stone home I’d ever seen. The sharply peaked roof was reddish brown and decorated with several small dormer windows. The colors matched the trailing ivy that climbed the stone, a red-green variety that radiated fall coziness. It was straight out of a fairy tale, but hopefully this wasn’t the kind with a witch and stewpot inside, ready to eat us.
I stepped out of the truck, too chickenshit to look back at him and see his expression after what I’d just said. I heard paper crinkling as he walked up, pulling the receipt out of his pocket to show the gnome.
“What should I expect?” I asked, keeping my tone intentionally neutral and professional.
“I’ve only met him twice in passing, and he’s stubborn and grizzled, but seems to be more bark than bite. He lives alone, as far as I know, and gnomes aren’t fond of strangers, but they won’t start a fight without a reason.”
“Oh.” I was a little disappointed. It might be nice to work out some of my feelings on a feisty opponent.
Maybe Galyna would be up for a good, hard sparring session when we got back.
I trailed behind Valens up the cobblestone walk, letting him take the lead since he knew Sandrine. I skimmed over the surroundings a second time, looking for any signs of traps, trip wires, or the like, but found nothing.
He raised a fist to knock, but the door swung open on silent hinges under the first strike.
Valens froze, calling out from the doorstep, “Sandrine?”
There was no response.
I stepped up next to him, peering around the dim, empty interior. Everywhere I looked was chaos.
“Is he usually this messy?” I asked, spying a whole bag of flour upside down on the kitchen floor, a steady stream of black ants running from the pile of flour to a windowsill.
“No. Something is very, very wrong.”
He stepped cautiously over the threshold, as if waiting for a magical backlash. When none came, he walked deeper, and I split off to the other side of the house, inspecting everything without touching.
Broken furniture hid farther inside, clear signs of a fight. But when I reached the fireplace at the end of the house, built into the exterior wall, I froze.
