Page 40 of My Fated Mate

I can't take it anymore. I need air, need space to breathe, need… Elowen.

Shit, I need Elowen.

The thought of her propels me forward.

Ignoring the surprised glances of the passing warriors, I make my way towards the room for the bride, where I know she is.

As I approach, the sound of soft laughter and excited chatter drifts through the open doorway.

My heart hammers frantically against my ribs.

Taking a deep breath, I push aside the makeshift curtain, stepping into a scene that steals the breath from my lungs.

Elowen stands in the center of the room, sunlight filtering through the window and painting her in a golden glow. She's dressed in a simple gown of woven ivory, the fabric clinging softly to her curves.

But it isn't the gown, nor the way it accentuates her beauty, that takes my breath away. It's the joy radiating from her, a luminescence that eclipses the midday sun.

My mate, that’s my mate.

Her hair, usually worn loose and wild, is now braided with intricate loops and adorned with fragrant clips. A shy smile plays on her lips, her eyes sparkling with a nervous excitement that makes my insides clench.

Surrounding her are a gaggle of young Ember pack girls, their faces alight with awe as they fuss over Elowen's gown, whispering excitedly amongst themselves.

For a moment, I stand frozen, just watching.

But the weight of the prophecy, a relentless anchor, drags me down, shattering my fragile illusion. Her eyes meet mine, and the joy in them flickers for a moment, replaced by uncertainty that mirrors the turmoil within me.

She walks toward me, and a hesitant smile curves her lips. "Thorne," she breathes, her voice barely a whisper. "You shouldn't be here. We are almost ready for the ceremony."

The reminder snaps me back to reality. Ceremony. I force a smile, the gesture feeling brittle on my face. "I just… needed to see you.” I take in a breath. “You look so beautiful."

Elowen's smile falters slightly even as a blush rises to her cheeks, a flicker of concern replacing the joy in her eyes. “Are you alright? You look… troubled, is it… is it about the ceremony? I know it’s not traditional, having it here…”

I close the distance between us, my voice a hoarse whisper. "Elowen," The word catches in my throat. "This… this ceremony…" The lie sticks in my mouth, a bitter pill I can't swallow.

Her brow furrows in confusion. "The ceremony? Isn't it a celebration of our…" She trails off, her cheeks flushing a rosy pink. "Our bond, Thorne."

I cup her face in my hands, the warmth of her skin a stark contrast to the ice gripping my heart. "Elowen," I rasp, myvoice thick with emotion. "There's something you need to know. Something I haven't told you."

Her wide eyes search mine. A flicker of fear crosses her features, quickly replaced by a fierce determination. "Tell me, Thorne. Whatever it is, we can face it together."

"Elowen," I rasp, my voice thick with unshed tears. "I can't do this."

The girls around her stop their chatter, their gazes darting between us.

"What is it, Thorne?" she whispers, her hand reaching out to cup my cheek. Her touch, light as a feather, sends a jolt through me, a bittersweet reminder of everything I'm about to lose.

The words lurch out, a monstrous truth cloaked in cruelty. "I can't," I choke. “This… this isn't right."

"What do you mean?" she whispers, her voice trembling.

My hands clench into fists, the lie a serpent coiling in my gut. "There's something… missing," I rasp, the words scraping raw against my throat.

"Missing?" Her frown deepens. "What's missing, Thorne? We can fix it, whatever it is."

"No," I spit, the word laced with a venom that poisons my soul. "It's not that simple."

Her eyes delve into mine, and a desperate plea flickers in their depths. "Then what, Thorne? Tell me!"

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