Page 19 of Pregnant Rejected Mate

Point one—let her out of the damned bedroom. She’s not going to run away. I don’t know what I was thinking.

Kairo sighs. “I’ll speak to Felix about that. There’s no need for you to be locked in this room.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see the rest of the island.”

Point two—plan a tour around the island. If she’s curious, that’s already a foot in the door to charming her. I can work with that.

“Oh, you’ll love it!” Kairo says excitedly. “There’s a spot on Mount Aurora that you’ll love. It’s next to the waterfall, so all you hear is the gushing of water.”

Sierra gasps. “You have to take me there!”

Point three—just as I always knew, my sister and Sierra are so much alike, with their love for nature and the stillness it provides. Oftentimes, I’d catch Kairo on the mountaintop with her eyes closed as she soaked up the peace. In those moments, I’d be reminded of Sierra and how her morning routine consisted of meditations to start her day. I’d always imagine bringing her to the island, where she’d be able to bask in the true essence of peace.

Now, that wish is being fulfilled, thanks to fate and my sister.

“Of course,” Kairo assures her. “It’s gonna be our meditation spot.”

Smiling smugly, I sauntered back to my bedroom, feeling quite chuffed with myself. I think I’m on the right track, on my way to sweeping Sierra off her feet and reminding her why she fell in love with me in the first place.

Chapter 8 - Sierra

Wiping away my tears, I get to my feet and decide it’s enough. No more sulking about my current situation. I need to get out of these clothes; the fabric of my yoga clothes sticking to my legs like a second skin.

The only problem is that I’d been flown to the island without any of my possessions. Not even a cell phone to update the group chat with my clients that I’ll be missing in action for however long it takes to get out of here. There’s no way of calling for help, either. I started to wonder if there were any other humans here. Any other weredragons. My mind takes me to my childhood when my grandmother would read me bedtime stories about weredragons, werewolves, and the like.

I never imagined that they would be real. After all, those stories were just fairytales, fables passed down by the tribes of our ancestors. In hindsight, those stories must have had some depth of truth to them. Even though we know nothing about their existence in today’s world.

While my mind is filled with questions, my feet carry me over to the oak doors lined up along one wall in the room. I open the doors absentmindedly, eyes scanning the rest of the room when I spot the fresh paintings on the wall.

I can tell it’s new because it glistens with a sheen, which is only evident from the fresh paint. Going closer, I’m able to make out what it is.

It’s an angel carrying a cherry blossom flower - my favorite bloom. Not only is the flower significant to my tastes, but it’s the angel that truly captures my attention. As I take a look around the rest of the bedroom, I notice more of the image painting in calculated intervals on the walls.

Is it possible that Felix had these painted here for my sake? I don’t want to read too much into it, especially since he hasn’t entirely made up for what he did all those years ago.

Threatening my father’s life and tricking me into coming here isn’t exactly the apology I’d been expecting.

I wasn’t expecting much, if I’m honest with myself. I’d been counting on never seeing his face again, hoping it would allow me to go on with my life as if he never existed. I carried with me only the memories, naming my yoga studio in the pleasant memory of him—when he’d call me “mi ángel” adoringly.

Now, with the angels carrying my favorite flower along the walls of the bedroom I’ve been locked in, I can’t help but wonder if it’s purposeful. Is this his way of showing that he truly cared? Or is he just bound by duties, needing to woo me into being his mate?

I won’t be fooled! Scoffing, I turn back to the wardrobe, only to discover that the closet is full of clothes. Satin kaftins and bright-colored Summer dresses hang on the rails.

Even the choice of wardrobe matches my tastes, only reigniting my resentment. I hate that he knows me so well, flaunting that fact in front of my face as if I should be falling to my knees for him. Grunting under my breath, I pick out a paisley-patterned kaftin, find a towel, and head to the bathroom.

Hah! If he thinks I’d grovel at his feet just because he’s painted angels holding cherry blossoms on the walls and packed the wardrobe with my favorite clothes, he’s in for a surprise.

This is my chance to get my revenge.

***

Stepping out of the bathroom, I dab the wet tendrils of my hair and pad back into the bedroom. The plush carpet under my soles feels heavenly now that I’ve scrubbed the grime out. Having a shower here feels different, almost as if the water is plumbed from a crystal spring.

I giggle to myself when the thought crosses my mind. It probably is from a natural source, sparking my curiosity even further. I’ve decided to accept being shackled to this place as long as I can make Felix’s life a living hell.

If I was once an angel to him, I plan on being a devil now.

So when there’s a knock on the door, I smile smugly to myself, straightening my spine while standing in the center of the bedroom with nothing but a towel hugging my frame. If Felix expects me to be his mate, I’ll dangle the carrot in front of his nose and never let him have it.

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