Page 52 of The Alpha's Cursed Queen

My friend’s eyes glisten with emotion. “Well, it is happening, and if you need help believing that this is not a dream, I am more than willing to pinch you.”

“Keep your hands away from me,” I warn her, giggling.

The king gets to his feet, and I suddenly feel nervous. “All the young couples have had their time with each other, and tonight we announce the engagements,” he announces. “Young men, you may begin.”

Apparently, it is custom for the males to announce their chosen female. The practice seems a little archaic, but then, the Wolf Kingdom is big on tradition. One by one, the men start walking over to their fated mates and taking their hands. As they do, they announce the female they have chosen.

My heart is pounding. Darian is last, and when he finally steps forward, my whole body trembles. Warmth blooms within me as I recall the words he spoke to me that night, the dreams he showed me, and my heart feels like it will burst from joy.

He walks toward me, and I can see no one but him. I begin to smile as he approaches me. He’s just a few steps away, and I move forward, lifting my hand…

But he walks right past me.

For a moment, I stay frozen in place, bewildered.

“I, Prince Darian Kassel, take”—I turn around to see him holding another female’s hand, and it’s not just any female—“Willow Elvin as my future mate.”

“I don’t understand,” I murmur. Reality hasn’t sunk in yet.

What is he doing? Why is he saying Willow’s name? Why is she leaning against him like that, smiling?

“Darian?” My voice is small as I try to make sense of what is happening.

He doesn’t look at me. His eyes are on Willow, and cold comprehension forms within me.

He was toying with me.

All this time, he was only toying with me. That night we spent together meant nothing to him. Was it all just another way for him to gain my trust, or had getting me in bed been his end goal all along?

Suddenly it makes sense that he never got in touch with me again after that night. I feel nauseated as I stare at him. Mary’s fingers dig into my arms, and I let the pain center me.

Willow is looking at me now, smiling triumphantly.

I wish I could control my expression, but I don’t think I can hide the devastation in my heart. For the first time, I truly wish my parents had killed me instead of giving me away. I wish I had never met Darian. I wish when Cyrus shoved me off the roof, I hadn’t survived. I wish when Thomas beat me within an inch of my life, he had completed the job.

Is this what it feels like to have your spirit break completely?

Silence falls across the ballroom as all eyes turn toward me. I stand there motionless, Mary’s hands holding me steady. There’s a growl in her throat.

I hear the king’s voice boom from across the room. “Will you explain to me why you have a chosen another aside from your fated mate, Prince Darian?”

I don’t have the strength to turn and look at the king, but for a moment, it sounds like he’s not very happy. I’m apparently quite good at imagining things, though, so he’s probably thrilled. Maybe he orchestrated this whole thing. But then, why would he ask? Why would he care? I’m nothing to anyone. Or maybe both father and son want to put me in my place for even daring to consider myself worthy of standing next to the prince.

My heart is aching so badly that it feels like it will collapse. There are no tears in my eyes. I’m trying to gather myself, but I don’t know how. I’ve been so badly shattered that it’s as if I’m standing in an eternal darkness, shards of the person I used to be scattered around me in a thousand pieces.

“I asked you a question, Prince Darian,” King Edward demands. “The royal family has always taken fated mates, if you recall. I hope you have a good reason for choosing another female as your intended.”

My eyes lift from the floor to look at Darian as everyone waits for his answer. He still has the same face, I muse to myself dully, the same handsome features, those startling green eyes that held so much love and laughter in them.

Yet, I don’t recognize the man standing a few feet from me. I’m looking at a stranger right now, as he finally meets my gaze.There is not an ounce of affection in his eyes, none of the warmth that always existed when he looked at me.

No. All I see is disgust.

“I do not want my fated mate,” he says tightly. “I reject my fated mate based on my discovery of what she is. She does not have a wolf spirit.”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, crushing me.

My knees buckle, and I would fall to the floor were it not for Mary holding me up.

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