Page 105 of Villainous Fate

If I’m being honest with myself, something changed in my feelings for her since we went to LA. I found myself wanting her smiles, laughter, and sass, but it was more than wanting them. I wanted to be the one to make them happen.Iwanted to make her smile.Iwanted to make her laugh.Iwanted her to sass me.

I wanted her.

But she wasn’t mine yet. She was his.

It was a guilt that I had been shoving away with everything I had, justifying my actions as being a good friend to her and Deacon, lying to myself about what it meant.

Seeing her tonight solidified my resolve.

Sheismine. The Fates gave her tome. To protect. To love. To cherish.

If I were a lesser man, that would be enough.

But I’m a man of my word, and I told Deacon I would look after her, protect her, and keep her safe.

For him.

She loves him.

I’m not her choice. I’m theirs.

As I drift off to sleep, I allow myself to have the fantasy—the one where she chooses me, where Deacon understands, and where we find a way to stay friends.

The one that will never happen.

***

Pounding on my door wakes me hours later. Vincent, one of the pack enforcers, and his half-brother Tony, the biggest dude I’d ever seen, stand in the hall.

“What’s up, guys?” I say, my voice gravel from the dream-filled sleep.

“Alpha wants everyone for a briefing. Thirty minutes,” Vincent says before walking to the next door.

Well, shit.

I grab my running shorts and throw on my shoes, knowing I will have to cut my morning run short today, but I need the exercise to wake up my brain before the meeting.

Heading down the front steps, I pull open the door to find Grace standing there, her hand raised like she’s about to knock.

“Oh, hi,” she says, stepping back, her eyes falling to the floor.

“Hey,” I say back, a million questions on the tip of my tongue. “Are you here to see me?” I ask, hope filling my chest as I wait for her response.

“Why else would I be here?” she asks. “Can we take a walk?”

“Yeah, of course,” I answer, trying not to sound eager but finding myself more at peace having her standing beside me. “I only have fifteen minutes, though. Alpha called a meeting for 8:30 am.” I finish.

“That’s fine,” she says, turning and stepping off the front porch. It’s then I see she has my birthday gift in her hand and several envelopes that have been torn open.

My stomach tightens.

We walk over to the running trail by the edge of the trees before she stops and lets out a forced breath.

“I need to know why,” she says, and my mind wonders which reason she is referring to, so I wait. Her eyes lock onto mine, and she lifts the envelopes—confusion dances in her expression and my wolf surges.

Mine.

Mate.

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