Chapter 3 #3
“Better. Look, I know several respectable noble ladies who would be perfect for you. Lady Catherine of House Meridian has excellent bloodlines and impeccable manners.” She adjusts her sleeves with finality. “I’m setting up a meeting for next week. You’d better be there.”
“Marina, I really don’t—”
“No arguments, Seth.” Her voice brooks no disagreement. “You’re twenty-eight years old. It’s time.”
Before I can protest further, she sweeps away down the corridor, her heels clicking against the stone with decisive authority. I watch her go, knowing that arguing with Marina when she has made up her mind is like trying to stop a charging bull with your bare hands.
I shake my head and continue toward the residential wing, my thoughts shifting back to the real reason I’m here. My wolf grows more restless with each step, that inexplicable need to see Selene burning stronger the closer I get to room forty-seven.
I still don’t understand this compulsion.
The mate bond should be satisfied knowing that she is safe and healing.
But something about yesterday—her complete indifference to my presence, the way she looked at me like I was nobody—has left me fundamentally off-balance.
It goes against everything I know about mate bonds, about the connection that should exist between us whether we want it or not.
I raise my hand to knock on her door, then hesitate. What excuse do I have for being here?
I knock twice and wait.
Silence.
Maybe she’s sleeping. I should leave. But instead, I knock again, harder.
A startled cry comes from inside, followed by a loud crash.
My protective instincts roar to life. I don’t hesitate—I burst through the door, scanning for threats. The main room is empty, but splashing and muffled cursing are coming from the bathroom.
“Selene?” I call out, already moving toward the sound.
Another crash, followed by creative profanity that would make a soldier blush.
I push through the bathroom door and freeze.
Selene is tangled in the shower curtain, clearly having been in the middle of bathing when something went wrong. The curtain is wrapped around her like a cocoon as she struggles to free herself while maintaining modesty. Water drips from her auburn hair, and her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Don’t look!” she shrieks.
The mate bond surges at the sight of her, my wolf practically howling with recognition. Water droplets cling to her bare shoulders, her wet hair falling in dark waves around her face. The clinging fabric outlines curves that make my mouth go dry.
“Seth!” Her voice is breathless with panic and mortification. “What are you doing here?”
I should leave. Turn around, walk away, pretend this never happened. But my feet seem rooted to the tiles.
“I heard you cry out,” I manage, my voice rough. “I thought you were in danger.”
She finally frees one arm, clutching the fabric closer. “Well, I’m not. So, you can go now.”
I wait for the telltale signs—her pulse racing, her scent changing, the tremor in her voice—that would tell me she feels the bond, too. But there’s nothing. Just normal awkwardness at being caught in such a compromising position. Her heart rate is elevated from the fall, not from my presence.
My wolf whines in confusion. How can she be so unaffected?
“Are you hurt?” I ask, taking a step closer.
“No, just tangled.” She tugs at the curtain, but it’s thoroughly wrapped around her. “Can you leave? Please?”
There’s no awareness in her eyes now, no recognition of what should exist between us. Just a woman trying to preserve her dignity while stuck in a ridiculous situation.
“Let me help you,” I hear myself say.
“Absolutely not!” she insists. “I can manage on my own, thank you very much.”
But she can’t. The curtain is twisted in impossible ways, and her struggles are only making it worse.
I reach out slowly. “Hold still.”
The moment my fingers brush the wet fabric, electricity shoots up my arm. The mate bond sings with satisfaction at even this indirect contact. But when I look at her face, searching for any sign that she feels it, too, there’s nothing. Just frustrated embarrassment.
How is this possible? The bond is stronger than ever on my end, but she shows no reaction at all. It’s like I’m the only one who can feel it.
“Don’t touch me!” she snaps, jerking away from me. “Just get out, Seth!”
I freeze, my hand still extended. The sharpness in her voice has cut through me like a blade.
“Get out!” she repeats, her voice rising with panic and anger.
I should turn around and leave. Something about her complete indifference, though, something about the way she’s looking at me like I’m nothing more than an unwelcome intruder, keeps me from moving.
“Seth!” Her voice cracks with desperation. “What part of ‘go away’ don’t you understand?”
When I still don’t budge, her blue eyes flash with fury.
“Why are you just standing there? Why are you invading my space like this?” Her voice trembles with emotion. “I thought you made yourself perfectly clear the other night.”
Heat flares in my chest—anger mixing with confusion and something darker. “What’s going on with you?”
She lets out a bitter laugh, clutching the curtain tighter around herself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But the Commander should probably leave my room before someone sees you here.”
The formal way she says “Commander” stuns me into silence.
“After all,” she continues, her voice dripping with venom, “you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself by being caught in the quarters of such a weak woman. What would people think? The great Seth Rowan, slumming it with someone so far beneath him!”
My lips press together. She’s throwing my own words back at me, the cruel things I said in the forest, and I don’t know how to reply.
“Selene—”
“No.” She cuts me off, her eyes blazing. “You don’t get to ‘Selene’ me. You made your position abundantly clear. I’m too weak, too pathetic, not worthy of even being in the same room as you, remember?”
The mate bond is roaring in my chest, demanding I fix this, demanding I claim what’s mine. But she’s looking at me like I’m revolting, like my very presence disgusts her.
“That’s not—” I start, but the words die in my throat because it is what I said. Every cruel word she’s repeating, I hurled at her like weapons.
“Get out of my room, Commander,” she says again, her voice deadly quiet now. “Before you contaminate yourself by breathing the same air as someone so fundamentally less than you.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy and toxic. Her words hang in the air, each one a perfect echo of the cruelty I treated her with in the forest. The mate bond claws at me, desperate and confused, but Selene’s eyes hold nothing but cold disdain.
“Fine,” I bite out, my voice raspy with suppressed emotion.
I turn on my heel and step toward the bathroom door, my wolf howling in protest. At the threshold, I pause, some part of me hoping she’ll call out to me, that she’ll show even the smallest sign that this indifference is merely an act.
But when I glance over my shoulder, she has already turned away from me, struggling with the tangled curtain as if I have ceased to exist entirely.
The main room feels suffocating as I cross it in quick strides. My hand is on the door handle when I hear her voice, so quiet that I almost miss it.
“Close the door behind you.”
Not a request. A dismissal.
I step into the hallway and pull the door shut with more force than necessary. The sound echoes in the empty corridor like a gunshot.
My wolf is frantic now, pacing and whining, unable to understand why our mate rejected us so completely. The bond still burns in my chest, as strong as ever, but it feels one-sided now—binding me to someone who wants nothing to do with me.
I lean against the stone wall, running a hand through my hair.
Her indifference shouldn’t bother me. I’ve been trying to push her away for months, telling myself she’s too weak, that she doesn’t belong at my side.
But now that she’s looking at me with nothing but contempt, it feels like a knife twisting in my gut.
The hallway stretches empty in both directions, and for the first time in my adult life, I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do next.