Page 34 of My Fated Mate

Stepping out of the room, a wave of dizziness washes over me. The world seems to tilt on its axis, my vision blurring at the edges. It's not just the potent herbs coming from Pretty Ellie’s hut that makes me see double. It's the scene unfolding before me that sends a jolt of disbelief coursing through me.

In the clearing, the Ember Pack warriors are bustling with activity, an air of festive anticipation hanging thick in the air.

I frown. Do I even need to ask what’s going on here? I’ve had similar celebrations in my own pack.

I think?

Women weave garlands of fragrant flowers, their chatter punctuated by bursts of laughter.

Young pups chase each other around the perimeter, their joyful yelps echoing through the clearing.

Even Pretty Ellie has a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she supervises the preparations and watches over the mischievous pups.

But it's the sight of a raised platform adorned with vibrant tapestries and flickering torches that slams into me like a physical blow.

Oh yes, I know what’s going on.

A mating ceremony. They're planning a mating ceremony. This is the party to announce it.

My heart stutters in my chest like a trapped bird desperate to escape.

Who’s mating ceremony is it?

The answer rings loud and clear in my head. They have now decreed that Elowen and I are to be mated.

I take a step back and try to distance myself from it.

It’s not possible. This shouldn’t be happening.

The knowledge that Elowen doesn't have the fated mate's mark hangs heavy in the air, an unspoken truth amidst the celebratory preparations.

I have received messages about more rogue sightings, so no matter what I wish to do differently, I understand the urgency, the desperate need to find my fated mate before the darkness encroaches on everything in its path.

I can’t understand why the moon goddess would make such a prophecy only to give me a normal mate who isn’t the fated one.

I still don’t understand anything.

Frustration flares hot within me, threatening to consume me. Before I can storm into the clearing and ruin everything, Ellie looks up from the young pups, her gaze falling upon me.

"Thorne," she narrows her eyes at me as if she knows what I’m about to do. Pretty Ellie, who usually disapproves of everything, speaks in a surprisingly mild voice. "Feeling better?"

I clench my jaw and nod, nudging toward the exciting celebration going on. "Enough to question the timing of this… celebration." The word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Ellie's smile falters. "There's always time for a new celebration, pup. Normally, we wouldn’t think of this," Her voice softens. "But the victory against the rogues, that news spread like wildfire. The pack feels… optimistic.

They believe that with our packs combined, the threat is basically diminished. We might be small, but I know you’ve noticed our warriors are fierce. One warrior from us is like ten."

Optimistic. The word hangs heavy in the air.

They believe the danger has passed, that they can afford a moment of celebration, a joyous declaration of unity between our packs.

But I know better. The rogues were just a skirmish, a taste of the true battle looming ahead.

And the weapon we desperately need, the fated mate prophesied to stand beside the Alpha, remains elusive.

A wave of despair washes over me, a cold dread that chills me to the bone.

Elowen, with her kindness and passion for healing, deserves a life filled with love and laughter—not a life tethered to a duty she can't fulfill, a life forever overshadowed by the prophecy.

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