Page 12 of Scarred Savages
Something cold settles in my stomach. This isn’t the same man who whispered about healing together. This is someone else entirely. The warmth of my wolf fading, replaced by a hollow pit in my stomach.
Is this what fate has in store for me? A mate who wants me to be quiet, pretty, and nothing more than a baby-making machine? His eyes seem genuine, and this connection is undeniable. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating, this fragile dream weaving around my heart.
Despite my uncertainty, I allow myself to envision a future where I’m seen, accepted, and loved. Then, a shout pierces the air, shattering my dream into jagged pieces.
“Look under her robe before you commit, Conrad.”
Conrad frowns, glancing at me.
“May I have a look?” he asks, concern creeping into his features.
The fact that heneedsto inspect me, as if I’m an object to be evaluated, cuts deeper than I expected. The realization that my scent match can’t accept me as I am, that he needs to see before committing, unravels the last threads holding me together.
I feel like I’ve swallowed ash, but hope still lingers. This is my scent match. Scars aren’t supposed to matter with this kind of connection, right?
There’s only one way to find out.
Everyone else in this damn room has seen them.
My wolf, so new and so fragile, whimpers. She doesn’t understand. She’s screaming, “MATE, MATE, MATE.”
Wordlessly, I turn my back to him and slip the robe from my shoulders, letting it pool on the ground at my feet. The ceremonial swimsuit leaves nothing to the imagination, and my scars are all exposed. Still, turning to look at him, I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction.
For several long moments, there is only silence. My heart thunders in my ears.
His smile falters, the charm draining from his face, dimming under the weight of a thousand unspoken expectations.
Conrad studies me, his eyes slowly trailing over my marred skin from my legs to my left hip. His lips tighten into a flat line, the warmth that once flickered in his gaze now cold.
His father approaches from behind, whispering something in his ear. I catch fragments: “political suicide… damaged goods… find another,” then turns to leave.
Whatever was said, it seals the moment.
Conrad’s eyes, those same eyes that had promised we could heal each other’s brokenness, now dart around, gauging the crowd’s reactions. The murmurs grow louder, a soft hum of judgment that presses in on us.
His face tightens, and he takes a step back.
He looks at me like I just ruined his perfect photo opportunity, as if I have failed him by having the wrong kind of brokenness… the visible kind.
We can be broken together, but only if the outside package stays nice and shiny for the cameras.
His eyes narrow, and there’s something bitter, something petulant about the way he looks at me now, like a spoiled brat whose new toy came with scratches he didn’t expect.
I’m not the perfect, flawless mate he envisioned. I’m the one who’s ruined this moment for him.
“Look, Luna…” he begins, hesitation thick in his voice—a knife twisting in my gut.
His jaw clenches, and I see the battle behind his eyes for a split second. But then, as if a switch flips, the resolve crumbles.
The crowd’s whispers swell around us, and Conrad flinches, reddening with embarrassment. He glances nervously at the spectators, then back at me, his expression hardening by the second.
“I need you to understand something, Luna,” he says, his voice low, almost strained, sounding unsure. “I didn’t want this to go this way,” he says, avoiding my eyes. “But I can’t—this isn’t just about me.”
He pauses, and for a second, I think he might say something else. But then his face hardens.
“I’m the political heir. People expect things from me, and… I need a mate who reflects that. Someone flawless, someone who can stand by my side without—” He cuts off, his eyes lingering on my scars. “I’m sorry, Luna. This… is not what I wanted. You must understand my position requires certain… standards. It’s complicated.”
“Complicated,” I echo, the word tasting bitter. My heart, once soaring, now plummets into an abyss. I watch helplessly as my hope shatters into a million irretrievable pieces.
