Page 9 of Mated By Midnight

Her father nodded.

The room tilted slightly, as if Celine was standing on unstable ground. There it was—the announcement that should have filled her with relief. The words that should have lifted the burden of the arranged marriage from her shoulders. She was free.

But instead of relief, an odd hollowness settled in her chest.

Rylan found his mate, and he chose her. Just like that. A choice that was natural, fated. It was supposed to be easy, wasn't it? When a shifter found the one they were meant to be with, they were supposed to grab hold of it and never let go.

Shouldn’t Elijah have done the same last night? Come hell or high water. Come tooth or claw.

The thought gnawed at Celine, a bitter edge she couldn’t shake. If Rylan could follow his heart—his bond—then why hadn’t Elijah? Why had Elijah walked away from her, leaving her to wrestle with the ache of being rejected by the one person who should have fought for her?

She’d expected the arranged marriage to be suffocating, to feel trapped under the weight of duty. But this… this felt worse. She was free yet somehow more trapped than ever, bound by the unspoken pain of being rejected by her fated mate.

She couldn’t shake the image of Elijah’s face. The way his expression had changed the moment he learned who she was. The way he had pulled away, his body rigid with disbelief and agony.

He hadn’t fought for her. He hadn’t even tried.

Now with her future so uncertain and her heart in tatters, all Celine could feel was the void Elijah had left behind. One question nagged at the back of her mind. The same question that had been there every moon festival when her friends had found their mates, but not her.

Why not me?

7

Elijah stood in the shadow of the tall pines. His sharp eyes tracked Celine as she and Rylan exchanged words. His fingers clenched and unclenched as the crisp air bit at his skin. A fire simmered, crackling just beneath the surface of his outwardly calm demeanor.

The Ironwood pack’s territory was vast. The scent of the massive trees and damp earth filled his nose. But nothing masked the scent of her—Celine. The delicate blend of wildflowers and citrus that teased his senses with each step she took.

His pulse quickened. His heart thudded against his ribcage with each step she took into his lands. But his feet remained rooted.

Why wasn’t he running to her?

His wolf stirred restlessly within him. A low growl vibrated through his chest.She’s yours. She belongs to you, the beast said.

Elijah kept his breathing steady. His eyes never left her form as she came to stand before Rylan. He couldn’t hear their words, not from where he stood half hidden by the Ironwood trees. But he didn’t need to.

He’d seen enough rejections in his life to recognize one when it was happening. The way Rylan’s gaze held hers—apologetic but unyielding—told Elijah everything he needed to know. The Ironwood Alpha was making it clear that whatever had been planned between them would not go forward.

The clawed tips of Elijah's fingers dug into his palms as he fought the urge to move. His wolf paced in his belly. Its growl vibrated low in his chest.Go to her, it urged.

His wolf didn’t understand why he was still standing there. Why he was rooted to the spot, out of sight where she couldn't see him. Why he was watching from a distance when she was right there, needing comfort. Needing him.

Celine stood tall, her back straight, her shoulders squared. But Elijah saw the strain in the way she held herself. He saw the tension that coiled through her limbs as if she were barely holding it together. Her expression was stoic, her face a mask of control, but he knew better. He knew how deep her emotions ran, how bright her smile could be, how her laugh lit up the space around her.

He hadn't known this woman for twenty-four hours. Had only spent an hour with her. But heknewher. Her expressive eyes, normally so full of life, were empty now—hollow. The sight of it made the valves in his chest twist painfully.

Elijah wanted to go to her, to pull her into his arms and wipe that emptiness from her face. He wanted to run his hands over the softness of her skin. He wanted to feel the warmth of her against him. To press his forehead against hers and remind her that she was not alone. That she washis.

He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, the sharp taste of blood mixing with the cold air, grounding him. It wasn’t enough to calm the fury building in his chest. Why was Rylan still talking, still standing there like this wasn’t breaking her?

Elijah’s wolf pushed harder against his control, prowling, snarling, demanding that he go to her. The bond was right there, thrumming beneath his skin, pulling him toward her with every breath, every beat of his heart. But Elijah hesitated.

Not because he didn’t want to—he did, more than anything—but because part of him knew this wasn’t the time. Not yet.

And then, just like that, the conversation ended.

Rylan stepped away from Celine. And she let him go. There had been no begging, no anger, just the resolute parting of two people who had no reason to be together.

Elijah’s wolf bristled at the thought of anyone else marrying Celine. Rylan had made his choice—Liza. And Elijah, well, Celine was his.

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