Page 22 of Orc's Pretend Mate

The thought coils in my mind, whispering treacherous possibilities. Could Phoebe truly be her? A second chance? A cruel joke? Or something else entirely?

I don’t know. And the not knowing is tearing me apart.

I stop walking, my breath heaving as I brace myself against a crumbling wall. The stone is rough beneath my palm, grounding me, but it does little to quiet the thoughts raging in my head.

The look in Phoebe’s eyes when I pulled away haunts me. Hurt. Anger. Betrayal. And underneath it all, confusion. She doesn’t understand, and how could she? I don’t know what she knows and I haven’t fully explained the Maulavi to her, the dangers theypose. To her, I am just a man who broke his promise, who used her in a moment of desperation.

I slam my fist against the wall, the impact jarring but not enough to dull the ache in my chest.

“I failed you,” I mutter under my breath, not even sure who I’m speaking to anymore.

My mate? Phoebe? Both? What choice did I have? If I hadn’t acted, they would have taken her. And if they’d taken her…

A growl rumbles low in my throat, the thought too much to bear. No. I made the only choice I could. I protected her. That’s what matters. And yet, it doesn’t feel like enough.

I push away from the wall, my steps slow as I retrace my path to the house. I don’t know what I’ll say, or how I’ll begin to make this right. Part of me wants to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness. Another part of me wants to shake her, to make her understand why I did what I did.

But most of all, I just want to see her.

I turn a corner, and the house comes into view. My chest tightens, the conflicting emotions swirling into a knot I can’t untangle.

I pause at the door, hesitating. She’s on the other side. Waiting. Is she still angry? Has she worked it out? Will she forgive me? Can I forgive myself?

I step through the door and the air is heavy with unspoken tension. She is sitting at the table with her head resting in her hands. She doesn’t look up, but I feel the weight of her emotions as clearly as if they were my own.

“Phoebe,” I say, my voice rough and uneven.

She stiffens, dropping her hands as she raises her head to face me. Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. The silence stretches, heavy and charged, until I can’t bear it any longer.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “I was only trying to protect you.”

Her gaze narrows, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“You keep saying that, Vapas. But it doesn’t feel like protection. It feels like… control.”

Her words hit like a blade, sharp and precise. I take a step closer, flexing my hands at my sides.

“No. No, it’s not control. It’s survival. The Maulavi?—”

“I know,” she cuts me off, her voice rising. “I know why you did it. But you think that makes this easier? That knowing does anything to relieve the way it felt?”

Her breasts rise and fall, her breathing uneven. She looks at me like she’s trying to figure out a puzzle, one that doesn’t quite fit together.

“I don’t understand you,” she says finally, her voice softer now. “One moment, you’re cold and distant, and the next…”

She trails off, her gaze dropping to the floor.

“And the next what?” I ask, boldly stepping closer.

She doesn’t answer, but the faint blush on her cheeks tells me everything.

I reach for her, hesitating for a heartbeat before my hand brushes against hers. She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t look at me either.

“I’m sorry,” I say, the words barely more than a whisper. “For breaking my word. For… everything.”

Her fingers twitch beneath mine, and for a moment, I think she’ll pull away, but she doesn’t.

Instead, she looks up, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of anger, confusion, and something else. Something I can’t name.

---