Page 67 of Barbi and the Villain

He takes a deep breath.

“I do not know,” he eventually replies.

Conflicting emotions war on his face.

“For my kind, a true mating is a blessing from the fates. It is supposedly fulfilled when two people have exchanged blood and consummated their relationship. I assume that since we have not done the latter and we will not do it, the bond remains only half fulfilled, and as such, it stands a chance to be annulled.”

He certainly needs to reiterate how much he does not want me. And here I thought I met my rejection quota for the year—perhaps my entire life.

“You don’t seem too certain,” I remark.

“As I said, very few of my kind have found their true mates,” he adds wryly.

“And what’s this kind you’re talking about?” I narrow my eyes at him.

He meets my gaze but remains silent.

“I’m well aware you’re not human. But what are you?”

“Are you certain you want to know?” he asks dangerously.

“We’re mated, no? I think I deserve to know what you are.”

“Only by necessity,” he mutters under his breath.

“If you want to be rude, suit yourself.” I shake my head at him. “I’ll go back to my world with my dogs and you can forget about me and this so-called blood bond.”

“I’m afraid it is not that easy.” He releases a ragged breath. “You are now my weakness. Should my enemies find out about our bond, they will target you to get to me.”

“Of course,” I mumble. “So what do you suggest we do then?”

“You will accompany me, of course. I will allow the dogs, too.”

“You will allow?” I ask incredulously.

“I will also require you to tone down your excitement. I understand you tend to ramble when you are nervous, but I hope you will keep that to yourself from now on,” he continues.

I stare at him unblinking.

He… Who the hell does he think he is?

“Right. Thank you, but no. I am going home,” I say as I turn my back to him and head back to the mountain.

To think that just yesterday I was ready to beg him to take me with him… I shake my head at my own foolishness.

Mated.

He says we’re mated.

And considering the evidence I’ve seen so far, I’m inclined to say he’s right.

Under any other circumstances, I would have thought this the epitome of romanticism. Not only are two people chosen to be together by the fates, but they actually become one! How cool is that?

Except not in my case because not only do we not know each other, I’m not very certain we like each other very much.

I take a step forward, but he appears in front of me, blocking my path.

“That was not a suggestion, Barbi. You will come with me.”

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