Page 39 of My Fated Mate

Ah, goddess if I could only sleep some more before I have to train with my enforcers.

Sunlight spears through a crack in my silk curtains, splashing across my face. I crack open an eye and then flinch against the brightness.

This is it. The day of the mating ceremony.

Almost like I said it out loud, a cheer erupts from the corner of the room, and my gaze snaps towards the source.

My enforcers, Zane, Viktar, and Bjorn, stand fully healed beside the makeshift bed I've been occupying.

Bjorn’s usual stoicism is replaced by a forced grin as he claps me on the back, almost throwing me out of my bed. "Congratulations, Alpha! May your bond be strong and your pups plentiful!"

I glare at him. “I see you’re fully healed now.”

His grin only widens, and I scoff.

Zane’s expression, however, is a mask of barely concealed disappointment. Unlike Bjorn, his loyalty resides not just with me but with our own pack – the Silver Crescent. The one that won't be celebrating this "union" today.

I know the look he’s giving me. I understand it well.

Guilt gnaws at me, my persistent wolf growling and nipping at my insides.

This ceremony, a desperate ploy to maintain a sliver of hope amongst the Ember Pack, is a sham.

They don’t know it yet, but I do, and even though I pride myself on being a ruthless Alpha, I've not been able to break their hearts all this while.

Elowen, with her kindness and compassion, doesn't deserve to be entangled in this web of deceit. None of them deserve this, but I don’t know what else to do.

Viktar clears his throat, his voice tight. "Is everything prepared, Alpha?"

I nod numbly, the image of Elowen walking towards me in that dress of pure white, a vision of beauty adorned in borrowed hopes, flashing before my eyes. "They've been preparing all night." I bite out.

Goddess, all I want to do is enjoy this ceremony, be with my mate, and be happy. But wishes. Wishes.

The celebratory mood in the room feels suffocating. Forced laughter and nervous chatter do little to mask the underlying tension.

Viktar, ever the optimist, throws Bjorn a playful punch. "Come on, brother! Let's show them that the Silver Crescent knows how to celebrate!"

Zane manages a wry smile, but his eyes remain clouded with worry. He knows, as I do that this ceremony is a dance on the edge of a precipice.

I rise from the bed and wave my hands. “Y’all should get out. I need some time alone,” I tell them.

With huge grins, they start to file out. Well, all except for Zane. When they all leave, he turns to me. “Alpha, are you really going on with this?”

I sigh and run my hands through my hair. “I don’t know.”

“But the fated mate…”

“I know. I’m trying. Somehow, Elowen is my mate, too. I feel it, Zane. I don’t know what to do.”

Zane stares hard at me for a while, and then he bows. “You are my Alpha. I’ll support everything you do.”

And then he leaves me with my thoughts.

I take my bath and then eye the ceremonial garb hung on my chair.

Without thinking too much, I throw it on and head towards the door.

Each step feels like a stride toward an inevitable betrayal—betrayal of the prophecy, betrayal of Elowen, and, most agonizing of all, betrayal of the love that burns with an intensity I can barely contain.

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