The Lies I Tell Myself

*Rowan*

That was a fucking mistake if I’ve ever made one.
Music from the orchestra reverberates down the hallway as I all but run to the nearest exit. I should’ve known better than to go in there, but I’d allowed myself to think it was a good idea–for Mara’s sake.
At least, that was the lie I told myself.
Truth is, I’d wanted to dance with her. I’d thought just one time would be enough. I could hold her in my arms, maybe even pretend I could do something relatively normal for once in my life and keep my own mate.
But it was one of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made, and now, her scent clings to every breath I inhale, and the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingers refuses to fade.
I push through the exit, slamming the door open so hard it hits the side of the house. Despite how much I like this expensive suit, I have no problem shredding it into a thousand pieces as I leap into the air and let my wolf take over. I tear through the forest, the freedom of knowing she can’t possibly see me now since she’s in the ballroom–probably dancing with Dean and James–allows me to run wherever I’d like with no consequences.
My wolf is grateful for the opportunity to sprint between the trees, leaping over the tinkling brook that winds its way through the castle grounds. I make a wide arch through an area where I know there are several fallen timbers and large boulders just to have some obstacles to leap over. In this state, I don’t have to think about anything. Adrenaline courses through my veins, and my own worry is whether or not I’ll clear a log and how fast I can complete a circuit.
At least, that’s another lie I’m telling myself.
I also know that, in this form, I am even more susceptible to her. My wolf knows his mate, and even when my human mind can logically say she’s off limits for very valid reasons, my wolf refuses to hear logic. If it was up to him, I’d be up there carrying her out of the ballroom and back to her bedroom to mark her.
This will only grow worse when she has her birthday in a few days.
And if she’s still here during the full moon when she’ll go into her first heat, well, I’m fucked–and she will be, too.
Wolves are, by nature, basic creatures. We like to eat meat. We like to run. We like to fight. We like to fuck. In that order. Trying to get my wolf to change his basic instinct would be like trying to get Solomon to listen to reason–it’s impossible.
I’ve completely lost track of time and realize I need to head back to the house. I hope that the party is still going on so Hezzlie won’t see me. I could just stay deeper in the woods and circle around to the back of the house, but morbid curiosity compels me to go closer than I should, and I soon find myself standing in nearly the same spot I was in the night before.
I look up and see her standing near her bedroom window again. She looks gorgeous in that blue dress with her hair pulled up. Her neck is long and elegant, and she’s beginning to reclaim all of her curves now that she’s eating regularly.
But she’s not happy. She shakes her head and lifts both hands to cover her face, and I realize she’s crying.
I have no way of knowing if she’s sad because her mother is leaving and she can’t go with her, or if it’s something else entirely, but as her mate, I feel my heart begin to ache seeing her in distress.
So I have to remind myself that I’m the fucking king, and I need to get over it.
I take a few steps backward, planning to turn and run behind the house when she drops her hands, and once again, she’s looking right at me.
She moves closer to the window, like she’s trying to get a better look. There’s a light on across the room, so I hope it’s giving her a hard time. I decide not to stand here and make a spectacle of myself anymore and rush inside.
I shift and grab a pair of pants from the stash we keep near the entryways and then head upstairs. When I reach my room, the door is open, and I hear voices inside.
I’m not surprised that one of them came to talk to me– but both? I want to tell them to fuck off, but when I walk in, Dean and James both turn on me at the same time. I go on the defensive. “What?”
“Do you remember earlier today when I told you the staff had bought Hezzlie a pair of earrings, and we thought it would be a nice gesture for you to get her something, and when you said nothing in response, I told you I’d get her a matching necklace from you?” He’s leaning against the back of the couch in my seating area, his arms folded, and he looks like he thinks I’m supposed to care.
“No,” I tell him.
Dean clears his throat and pushes up off the armrest where he’s been sitting. “You ruined her party.”
I scoff. “What? I was there for five minutes. I don’t have time for this shit.” I cross into my adjoining bedroom, into the bathroom, and turn the water on in the shower.
“She knows,” James calls after me as they stand outside of the bathroom in the bedroom.
“She knows what?” I turn and look at them, thinking they’ve both lost their fucking minds if they honestly think they can talk to me this way.
“She knows there’s a connection between the two of you. She just doesn’t know what it is yet.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I lie–again. “There’s no connection between us.” I refuse to admit to anyone–including myself–that Hezzlie is my mate.
“Oh, okay,” Dean says with a sarcastic smile. “Then why can’t you stay out of her bedroom? And how come whenever one of us looks at her, you act like you want to rip our head off and shove it up our ass?”
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever stupid crush she has on me will fade in time.” I strip out of my pants and climb into the shower hoping that will be enough for them to leave.
It’s not. They walk into the bathroom and casually lean against the sink as I go about my business. Nudity is not a big deal to wolf shifters, so I don’t care if they can see me through the glass door. I just wish they’d leave me the fuck alone before I say something I’ll regret.
“Whatever this is, it’ll just get stronger after her birthday, though. Then what?” James wants to know.
He’s gone ahead and decided she’s my mate, even with me denying it, which pisses me off. “Hopefully, by then, she won’t be here,” I reply, looking over at him, and he narrows his eyes because I’ve already told him she can stay here through her first shift.
“That won’t change the situation,” Dean reminds me. “If she does happen to be your mate, and you just don’t know it yet,” he says, giving me the benefit of the doubt I don’t deserve, “she’ll still be your mate when she’s in his hands.”
“She’s not my mate.” I lather up my hair and stand beneath the rainfall shower head. “But if she was, I would reject her. There’s no way in hell I’d ever admit to be mated to that asshole’s daughter.”
“Goddess, you’re a stubborn jackass.” Dean kicks off the lower cabinets beneath the sink and heads to the door. One down. One to go.
“Could you possibly… maybe for once… just try to consider that this is an impressionable young girl we’re talking about here? One who has already been through a wealth of trauma for no particular reason?” James asks.
“Go to bed, James,” I demand. “Maybe she’s your mate.”
He shakes his head and walks away from me, closing the bathroom door behind him.
I take a moment to let the scalding hot water wash over my body and take some deep breaths, trying to clear my mind. It seems like the whole fucking castle is starting to believe Hezzlie is my mate. I can’t let them know the truth because when I send her off to that jackass King Solomen, they’ll think I’m even more of a prick than they already do.
At the same time, I made a promise to Maura years ago, and I won’t go back on that vow. Mara means everything to me–to my kingdom. And I cannot let her down, no matter what it means for me.
Or Hezzlie.