“Yes.” I swallow hard. “She’s my fated mate.”
“Oh boy.” She exhales.
“Do they know she’s your mate?”
I nod.
The king sent communications to them yesterday in an effort to negotiate, but I received word this morning the coven doesn’t care. Selene’s exact response was that Jay’s status “only sweetens the deal.”
Medein digests the information. “And there’s no other option?”
I wouldn’t call it an option. Selene is actually the one who suggested it. But I wouldn’t dare entertain it. It’d be too selfish.
“Selene said that you, and I might be able to work out an arrangement where I spiritually bond myself to you and be half-mated to Jay.”
“Half-mated?”
“I’d bite her for the strength the mate bond provides and establish our mindlink and ties, so I don’t grow weaker over time. I would mark her, but she could never mark me.”
“I see. So, like a mistress?”
“Essentially.”
“And your thoughts on that are . . . ?”
“It’s not an option. I won’t reduce Jay to a mistress when she is meant to be my Luna.”
“Too bad. That could have been a solution.”
That catches me off guard.
“You would’ve been fine with sharing me?”
That surprises me.
“Yes. Provided I would be able to take my own, too.”
“I only want Jay. Can you help me out? Maybe you can convince Selene this isn’t necessary. If it’s not somethingyouwant, maybe she’ll let go of the idea.”
Medein bites the inside of her cheek with a look of hesitation. The face someone makes when they don’t want to deliver bad news. “I have sympathy for your situation—I really do, but your dilemma benefits me greatly.”
My heart drops into my stomach, and I become desperate. “You are a powerful witch from a well-known coven. Bloodhound is a wounded pack right now. We’re rebuilding. Why be with me?”
“Let’s just say, when the time comes, I want to be on the winning side.”
“What does that mean?”
Medein rests her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Caleb, I can’t do this favor for you.” She stares at me with great sympathy, then leaves quietly.
The pain is too much. I’d be an asshole to seek Jay out for comfort now, but she’s the only one who could make me feel better.
I need to be alone.
I storm home, slamming every door behind me as I approach my father’s study. Finally alone, I lash out. I chuck a vase, and it shatters against the wall, and I scream at the top of my lungs, “FUUUUUCK!”
With my head in my hands, I collapse to the floor.
I can’t catch a break.
