“You cannot mate with another,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
Solveig rose gracefully, as if unbothered, and matched his menacing stance, preparing for a fight.
Oh, they were going to fight alright.
“And why ever not? It’s not as if my mate has claimed me,” she said, insolence dripping from her tongue.
His canines ached with the desire to punish her for it.
“You have a mate?” King Erik asked, surprised.
“Yes, she does,” Westley said, not taking his eyes off Solveig for a moment.
“No,” his mother breathed. “How did you—”
“Oh good, I wasn’t the only one left out of this little charade,” Solveig spat.
“What the Hel are you talking about, witch?” his father asked. A growl escaped Westley at his father’s tone.
“Do not speak to her that way,” he warned.
Solveig answered like Westley hadn’t spoken. “It seems that everyone at this table, except your parents, have conspired to force us together.” She averted her gaze and faced the Asgardian queens before turning to her friends and then her betrothed.
Steffen shrugged and smiled, leaning back in his chair like he hadn’t a care in the world.
Westley’s surprise must have been evident. When she turned back, she laughed, but it was without humour.
“Glad to see you also had the wool pulled over your eyes.”
“It cannot be,” Alvida said under her breath.
“But it is. Your Prince Westley and I are mates,” Solveig said, glaring daggers at him.
He scowled right back.Why the fuck are you angry with me?
Out loud she said, clearly ignoring his question, “Here’s the thing, Prince. I am Vanir, which means that I can still form a Hjarta that is not with you.”
Westley tensed.
“Solveig . . .” Koa warned.
Solveig turned to her sister. “How could you, of all people, keep this from me? Youknowthe prophecy,” she hissed.
Westley furrowed his brow.What prophecy?
She did not answer. Fuck. He hated when she ignored him.
Koa’s expression grew apprehensive, as if she’d just realized how ugly this would get. “Solveig, maybe we should go somewhere private—”
“I am fine right here,” she said, interrupting her sister, turning her attention back to Westley. “Even if I am the mate of a Fae, my heritage allows me to choose another. You may not, but I can.”
Anger and hurt flooded his system. “You would do that?”
“If I have to, yes.”
“Westley, you have already let your mate promise to marry another. It seems you do not have control over her like you should,” his father censured. Westley whipped his head towards him.
“I do notletmy mate do anything, Father. I respect her decisions for her people. If she chooses to marry, I will not stop her.” Though everything in him ached even to utter the words.
