Page 61 of Rejected Mate

I told myself that libraries weren’t sexy, and this wasn’t a date. Not really. Nevertheless, it was the most fun I’d had in a while. I was enjoying his company despite my efforts not to. Who would have thought Ares was fun to be with?

But there was one thing still on my mind.

“Do vampires have the ability to—I don’t know what to call it—enthrallsomeone? Make them desire them. You know, like in the movies?” I asked, my eyes on the book in front of me like it was the most important text I’d ever seen. It seemed like the right time to ask.

He froze. “Why?”

I shrugged.

His hand reached out and touched mine. “Do you think, all this time, that I’ve been making you… hot for me?”

I raised my eyes. “Who says I’m hot for you?”

He laughed, and it eased the tension in my shoulders.

“No Wren, I have not been enthralling you. Is it possible? Yes, but your mind is strong. It probably wouldn’t work on you, anyway. It’s more a ‘vampires against humans’ thing.” Then he raised an eyebrow. “And you’re not hot for me?”

I dropped my eyes to the book. “Wow, this text issooointeresting.”

He chuckled, his voice sending shivers up my spine.

“Hmm, one more question,” I said, since we were airing all our dirty laundry tonight.

“Yes?”

This one was harder to force out. “Did my family… pay your family to include me in this? Is that why I’m here?”

Disbelief covered his features. “I forgot you’d asked me that before. Where in the world would you get that idea?”

“Callan. I think I pissed him off when I kneed him in the junk.”

Ares ground his teeth. One hand gripped the table so hard I was afraid he’d break it in half.

I touched him lightly. “I took care of it. No need to put his head on a pike.”

“Maybe I’d like to do that for fun,” he said, but he seemed to be calming down. “No, Wren. No one paid to have you included in the games or keep you here. Your name was top on our list.”

I nodded, feeling the flush of embarrassment color my cheeks. At least I had those questions answered. Now to the more pressing ones, namely what the hell was this prophecy about? I turned back to the book in front of me, but it was hard to focus with Ares Raith sitting across the table.

“Look at this,” he said, turning the new book he’d picked up towards me.

My eyes scanned the handwritten scrawl. Someone had taken to this parchment with quill and ink long ago. I hoped to the moon the reddish hue didn’t mean this was written in blood.

“What am I looking at?” I said, skimming the words.

“There.” He pointed to the middle of the page.

The Undead and Cursed will have their Season, but as the Seasons change, their lineage will not multiply and be fruitful unless they find the Dark Match.

“The Undead and Cursed?” I asked, glancing up from the book.

“We vampires are the undead, of course. And many think shifters were once humans cursed to live double lives. And here… it talks about ‘will not multiply and be fruitful.’ Isn’t that what you were saying? No young are being born?”

“Very few. Yes.”

“‘... unless they find the Dark Match.’ What does that mean?” Ares met my gaze.

I shook my head. “I’ve not heard of the Dark Match.”

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