Page 135 of Rogue Alpha Prince

Mark.I start quietly sobbing again.

“Shhh, Asher, please, stop crying,” his voice seems softer than usual, and I try to stop the tears.

I am trying, for real, but failing miserably at it.

I hear the dull splash as Cain puts the cloth away. I feel him laying down along me, and soon he pulls me into his warm embrace.

I let him, because paradoxically, as my trueand markedmate, he’s probably the only thing in the whole world that can calm me right now. The problem is, he has to calm me after whathedid—ending my only safe exit from this fucked-up situation.

I’m getting so mad I want to scream. I don’t, though. I hit his chest with my fist instead. He catches my hand in his and kisses me roughly. Then he rolls us over, so I’m once again pinned underneath him.

I look at his dark hair almost brushing my face, and at his handsome features that are now lit only by the silver moonbeam. The Moon Goddess is mocking me.

“Why are you so upset, little mate?”

“I’m not your mate,” I practically spit. He pins my wrist over my head, showing me who is in charge here.

He is. It’s always him.

“Not true mate, no, but chosen mate, yes.”

If he only knew how wrong he is…

“We don’t love each other, it won’t work,” I’m in denial now.

He smirks at me again, and I miss the times when he tried to look imposing and cold for me almost all the time. Because I love that smirk too much.

“It did work, it’s already healed.” He nuzzles the biting with his warm nose, and my skin tingles under his touch there.

“No, it’s not!” I’m still in denial.

He lifts his head and releases my wrists. My hands go to my neck. There’s no blood anymore, no festering wound, just… a subtle scar. I’ve never had a scar before, no matter how deep the wound was. It feels like a thin crescent moon, and another one mirroring it.

“It’s golden, do you want to see it?” he asks, looking at my terrified state with slight amusement.

“I don’t,” I shake my head.

Not now at least, I don’t want to cry again. I bite my lower lip.

His eyes look… hurt? I’m not sure. He averts them like he can’t stand looking at me.

I reach his cheek with my palm, and gently move his face back to me.

“You are mad, too,” I realize.

“You held on to hope you’d get back to your true mate, didn’t you? That’s why you are mad at me, for blocking it from ever happening.”

He’s so jealous and so, so wrong.

“I’ve never even dared to plan to leave you,” I say the comfortable truth.

I still want to tellthe truth whenever I can, because I will have to keep these pretenses for the rest of my life now. If I have to believe the lie—I’m not his true mate myself—then I will believe it. Whatever it takes to have a long happy life, even if I’ll be scared in between.

He looks at me for a long time, but I don’t falter.

“Life with me is not enough, when you know somewhere else, you already have someone who is perfectly tailored just for you, is it?”

I shake my head, and another tear is threatening to spill.

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