Darian's POV
She whimpered gently as she straightened on her feet. "What just happened right now, Alpha Darian?" She inquired through clenched teeth.
"What just happened, Selara?" I deflected her question while I stared down at my fingers, touching them with each other. Just how was I supposed to live with a mate that I had waited decades for when my touch burned her?
Damn that witch? I cursed again.
I should have slit her neck before she placed that hex on me, then this wouldn't be happening.
I lifted my head to find her green orbs narrowed on me. I put on a smile again, like a mask.
"You know what I am talking about, Alpha Darian." She said, glancing briefly at her waist, which she still clutched.
I followed her eyes, my gaze tightening.
Did my touch burn her skin that much that it still brought her pain even after minutes?
"If you are talking about that..." I nudged my jaw in the direction of her waist. "...then I don't know. Perhaps your skin is sensitive after your stay in my dungeon for weeks." I quipped.
I turned around before she could spot the truth in my eyes. I had tried to hide it behind a grin as always, but somehow it didn't work this time. I'd had no qualms about lying, but I couldn't just bring myself to look her in the face while I did. I had just damned her. I'd passed the curse to her. The symptoms might be different, but it's still the same curse.
"When has staying in a dungeon for two weeks ever made one's skin burn when touched?" She yelled out loud. I catch every nuance of her bitter voice.
I turned briefly to slant her a stiff grin, and I resumed in the direction of my throne. "And how am I supposed to know that. I didn't stay with you in the dungeon." I answered.
"That's because this has nothing to do with the dungeon."
"And how can you be sure of that?"
I found Rynel, my beta, hanging by a corner of the hall, watching quietly, with furrowed brows. I threw my head to the side—a signal for him.
I slumped onto the metal seat of my throne. The cushioned rest that had always massaged my back now felt like rocks against it.
The clinks and rattle of chains stole the room, as Rynel took off her chain. She strolled closer, rubbing blood back to her wrists. Her green orbs searched me closely, squinted as if to dig into me, and yank out the truth.
She could tell I wasn't telling the truth. But she just couldn't prove it.
I haven't left quite as many people in that state, and I knew just how to get them out of it. She deserved the truth, but I doubt she could handle it.
"So what do we do now that we are mates, Selara?" I said, changing the subject.
Like I thought, it worked. The suspicion in her eyes quickly morphed to mortification. "That means nothing. It's just a mistake. I am already married."
"Yeah. I know." I gritted, trying to ease down on the dark, immense rage that poured through me as I remembered her husband. More rage sluiced like melted fire inside of me as I figured that crook must have lain with her, lain with my woman. He'd been keeping her from me all these years, while I hunted the universe for her. I grabbed tight at the steel handle of the chair. It made metallic hisses as it crumbled under my strength.
"Since you know I am married, then you must know we can't be together."
"I don't see why that cna't happen. You just have to divorce the bastard. It's that simple."
"It isn't." She snapped. "Even if--" she began, but paused, her chin quivering, and the rest of her words died off to a mumble. "I am never leaving my husband for you." She finally muttered, looking away to hide the little moisture that coated her eyes.
I wondered why she would even cry about him, about a man who put her in the very predicament she was now, a man who sold her to slavery.
I figured she'd been with him for a year, so she was bound to love him. Still, that didn't make it any easier for me.
I would have faulted the moon goddess for making a wrong choice for me. But Selara Vance was far from a wrong choice.
Though her face was dirty, clothes tattered and torn, legs crusted with sand and dust, she was damn right beautiful. Beyond the dirt, her skin was a flawless bronze, complementing her golden blond curls so well that they seemed like an extension of each other.
Desire settled in my chest, crushing and impossible to ignore. I would give anything to touch that skin, feel her react to my touch. But I couldn't. I'd searched for her for a decade, yet I could do nothing but stare at her, like a fool.
Damn that witch! Damn her! I cursed repeatedly under my breath, raining every obscenity I could think of on her.
That was why I detested witches. Other than magic, the only other skill they were good at was backstabbing. Never make a deal with a witch, they said. Well! I had to find out the hard way.
Thank hell the bitch hadn't actually died after I crushed her heart with my sword. If she did, the curse would have been irreversible. At least, that's what the coven said.
"You know you can't cheat the bond between us, Selara, nor can you break it. So at the end you will still have to be mine."
Her chin quivered again. She blinked to keep back the moisture in her eyes. Her fists were pumped tight beside her. "That won't be happening, Darian. We will have to break the bond using a witch."
The mention of a witch blasted my irritation to the roof. I grunted with a jarring grind of my teeth as I stepped down from the throne.
"We are not using any witch, and no one is breaking any bond," I fired at her. "If you hate the bond so much, then you should rather direct your complaints to the moon goddess, who was clumsy with her pairings."
Now I didn't hold back in my anger. It was one thing having a mate whose heart belongs to another, and it was another having one who doesn't want you.
The former I could deal with, the latter, not so much. I had no plans of convincing someone to be mine. If the moon goddess hadn't convinced her enough through the bond, then there was little I could do.
Her jaw clenched tight as she challenged again. "Trust me, if I can complain to the moon goddess directly, then I would."
I snorted, my upper lip raised in slight derision. It was all I could do to keep my flaring irritation in check. "Why do you hate the fact that we are a mate?" I asked. I told myself I wasn't interested in the answer, yet I couldn't take my eyes from her.
She wanted to yell again, to rudely counter everything I say. But when she began, her voice seemed to seize.
I tore off a part of my shirt gently, and I wrapped it around my palm as I approached her. If skin was the problem, this should solve it.
She lifted her face fully to me, following my strides to her. "What are you doing, Darian?" She screamed and jumped away from my reach, terror splitting her voice. "Have you forgotten what happened when you touched me earlier. Have you—"
That fizzled out to nothing when I lunged fast and grabbed hold of her waist midway through another jump from me.
I pulled her, and she collided into me, her breasts jutting against my chest.
She didn't wail in pain again. Good. I wasn't wrong. I rode her fast to the nearest wall, while she thashed her arm against my chest, struggling to break free. "Let me go," she cried repeatedly.
I didn't let her. She slammed gently against the wall, and a soft whimper split from her, low and soulful. "Let me go, Darian."
"I will," I said. "I will, if you tell me you truly hate to be in this position with me. That you don't feel anything right now."
Even though I can't touch you, I feel plenty, I added in my head. Holding her close. Her body pulsed beneath mine. Her warmth was gentle, her body soft and feminine, and her curves were just the right blend that fit perfectly against my body.
Hell! I could never have asked for a better mate. The moon goddess couldn't have made a better choice.
I stared down into her green orbs, while she looked into mine. The distress in her features was already a hint enough that I was right, but still I asked. "If you don't feel anything while being like this with me, Selara. If any atom of desire doesn't consume your veins, as I hold you this close to me, then nothing will. Step away from me now, and I will truly believe you really hate this bond as you claimed."
She struggled feebly, her lips twitched for words, but she only ended up licking them as she stared into my eyes again, her jaw busy.
"But you have to understand, I am married, Darian." She bit down on her lips, her voice tuned to the softest since tonight. "I am a grieving widow. My husband just died. I couldn't betray him by taking up a mate just weeks after his death, fated or not."
Her husband died. The words repeated slowly in my head until my mind began to fit the pieces of the puzzle in place. I scoffed heavily, a chuckle filling my lips when everything eventually clicked.
She glimpsed my expression, and her brows squished tight, and she pushed herself away from me. "Why would you even laugh at that?"
"Because it's rather funny," I replied.
Her busy jaw got busier, eyes hostile. "And what the hell is funny about being married or being a grieving widow?"
I leaned forward until our faces were barely an inch apart, until my breath warmed her nose. I waited a minute, and slowly, I reached for her hair, to the bright curls, while being careful not to touch her skin. She swatted my hand away.
Thank hell, I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt.
"Don't touch me." She snapped. "And stop smiling."
"Why shouldn't I?"
"Because there is nothing to smile about."
"Are you sure. Because I am amused how you can still defend the very man who sold you into slavery." I said.
She flinched back from me then, her face wrung into the tightest of frowns. "What the hell do you mean by that?" She demanded.
I leaned back since I didn't get quite the look in her eyes, as I had hoped. "I mean the bastard you call a husband and are pining for is alive, hale, and hearty."
I could have slammed her down with a bartering ram, and I wouldn't have gotten such a reaction. She staggered back as if something massive had just crushed her.
"That's a lie. I watched him die."
"It's the truth. I saw him yesterday." I answered with my softest grin.