Chapter 3 - Delilah
“What's up?” Emily asks on our way back to the guesthouse.
We'd taken a stroll through Portland with Arianna after lunch, but the newlyweds are insatiable and inseparable at that. Arianna couldn't wait to get back to the cottage, while Noah, their son, is staying with Tyler's parents.
Arianna and Tyler would have offered a solution regarding my betrothal, since I helped them closely in uncovering Arianna's witch abilities when I discovered she was linked to my mother's coven.
But they're honeymooning right now, and I can't interrupt them or dump my troubles on them.
I just wish they'd noticed that it was bothering more than I let on when Tyler's father brought it up.
Someone else seemed to have noticed, and he left the diner as if he couldn't bear the news.
Good!
If the only good thing that comes out of my engagement is a metaphorical punch to Hunter's gut, then I'm satisfied. He deserves it for breaking my heart.
Emily slows down when we near the guesthouse, turning toward me with an apologetic expression on her face.
“It's about the prince, isn't it?” she sighs heavily. “I know how strongly you feel about fated mates, but you haven't even met—”
“No!” I interject firmly, proceeding to the door as I shake my head. “Prince Damion is not my fated mate!” I scoff bemusedly, nervously, knowing the truth but unable to speak it.
“Well, how would you know that?” Emily probes with a raised brow.
Huffing and stomping my way to the living room area, I throw my head back and plop onto a sofa. I'm stuck between wanting to please my parents, forging my own path, and keeping the secret about Hunter and me from our friends.
When he stormed off during lunch, eyebrows were raised, but we'd been careful enough during our time together to keep our rendezvous under the radar.
I can't tell Emily about it now, not after being rejected by Hunter.
“I just know,” I shrug as a shiver passes through me, the faint sound of footsteps outside making me aware that Hunter is returning to his guesthouse.
I hate that I can sense his presence, and I drop my face into my hands in frustration. Even if I've been vehemently avoiding looking at him, his undeniably magnetic presence still affects me, my inner wolf wailing that he's my fated mate.
I won't act on it. He drew a line that I can't cross.
“I don't know what to do, Em. I can't marry the prince…”
Emily sighs as she takes a seat beside me, offering a consoling hand on my shoulder as she pouts.
“Why don't you leave Shadow Fang and become like Hunter?” Emily offers a serious look with a lifted brow.
“Become like Hunter?!” I exclaim at the absurdity of the suggestion.
“Yeah,” she perks up. “Become a nomad. That way, you're not tied down to rules and regulations.”
“Ugh!” I groan at the ceiling when I throw my head back defeatedly. The cushions catch my head, but don't provide much comfort.
How can I escape the fate set up by my parents?
“I can't do that, Em. They're my parents…I can't abandon them. I can't abandon my people….”
“You'll be abandoning us if you're whisked off to Europe,” she laments with sadness in her voice, prompting me to look up and see the sorrow extending to her ocean-blue eyes.
My heart plummets then, as I stare into Emily's eyes. Though she didn't join black ops for missions, she was always around as our medic, the healer who became close to our squad. She knows how strong our bonds are, how close I am to the men I consider my brothers.
And she?
She's like a sister to me.
“I—I know,” I sigh defeatedly, a tear slipping from my eye. “I just wish I knew how to get out of this mess. Right now, going back home feels like walking into a death sentence. But I have to go back.”
Emily nods despondently, offering only a shrug. “I hope you can figure it out, D. If you can't leave Shadow Fang, then maybe you'll have to stand up to your parents.”
I blow out a frustrated breath, rolling my eyes. “Stand up to my parents? Yeah, right! If I haven't presented a fated mate at my age, I don't have a leg to stand on.”
Because she's a healer, Emily offers a steaming mug of herbal tea to defuse my worries, to calm me while I consider my options. I can't disappoint my parents by running away, and neither can I marry the Lycan Prince.
Caught between a rock and a hard place, my only consolation is the quiet respite of being away from home, even if it's for a short while. But as I slip into bed, my body tingles, my nerves ignited by the awareness of my fated mate being close by.
Memories of our time together come crashing back, visions of the past, of that deadly mission that almost took Tyler's life.
The mutated rogue wolves we fought out there were a tough group to take down, and the adrenaline and fear hanging over our heads were what drew Hunter and me together as we watched Emily tend to Tyler, reviving him when he'd been on the brink of death.
I'd sobbed my eyes out against Hunter's shoulder, his arms strong and protective as they wound around my quivering form. I lifted my face and stared at him through teary eyes, finding solace in his embrace and much-needed warmth on his lips when we kissed.
Neither of us could stop ourselves from taking things further when he held my hand and led me to my bunker. I'd been vulnerable, all my walls so far down that the passion we shared sparked awareness to something more profound than bodily pleasures.
He was my fated mate. I saw it in a vision just as he fell asleep on our first night together. I'd stopped myself from telling him right away, and our secret relationship went on for almost two years before he was pulled out for a stealth mission and came back as a different man.
A man who called our engagements “fun” and thought I was crazy to think that we were fated mates.
Heartbroken, I thought I'd buried away the genuine feelings I had for him. I was crushed back then and spent the last few weeks in black ops as a shell of my former self until we retired.
Now that I've been sprung back into his presence, I'm forced to face the simple fact that, despite his denial, we are fated mates.
There's a part of me that wishes I could leave sooner than planned, the vacation-of-sorts in Portland doing more harm than good for the pieces of the heart I had to stitch back together.
But returning to Scarborough only means that I'll be hopping from one hot pan into another when I have to deal with this ridiculous betrothal my parents planned for me.
Groaning, I slide further into bed, allowing the sheet to cover my face. Sleep feels forced, but I'm determined to find it, squeezing my eyelids shut until the darkness behind them morphs into the violet whiffs of smoke that appear when I'm about to astral travel.
Being part witch has its perks, like getting to escape into other realms when I'm transcending the fine line between wakefulness and sleep.
That trance-like state brings with it flashes of pretty images, like a swing dangling from the branches of a tree overlooking a gushing river, with the peaceful sounds taking me further away from my harsh reality.
Tonight, as I see the image spark to life behind my eyelids, there's something different about the way I feel. Unsettled. Not peaceful.
That's when I feel the warmth of a pair of hands grabbing my arms and abruptly pulling me from my quiet time, snapping me into the throes of darkness surrounding me.
“Hey! What the—”
My voice cuts off when one of those hands covers my mouth, a pair of glistening black eyes glaring at me.
“Don't make a sound,” a raspy voice whispers, and my eyes widen with shock and recognition at the eyes staring back at me. “We don't wanna wake Emily.”
Hunter?
My voice is muffled when I call out his name, my fight instincts nearly kicking in to counterattack him.
I've trained for this; I’m skilled in getting out of these kinds of situations. But having Hunter's hand cupping my mouth, the other gripping my arm tightly, is both intriguing and shocking all at once.
My heart pounds with reckless abandon, anger brewing inside as he slowly removes his hand from my mouth. I snatch my arm out of his clutches, refusing to face the awareness of a mate bond he'd denied.
“What are you doing?” I growl lowly, anger fueling the venom on my tongue as I scowl at his face, barely visible in the darkness except for the cynical glow in his blackened eyes.
He seems to hesitate, sighing and closing his eyes as he takes a step forward. His approach is met with indifference when I move back, my body tensing as he reaches out toward me.
“Hunter!” I exclaim, perplexed by the calmness he radiates, as if he didn't just wake me.
As if he didn't just steal into my room in the dark hours of the night, pulling me out of bed.
What is he up to?
“I'm sorry, D. I have to do this,” he whispers gently, as if his voice is meant to console me.
My anger gives way, and I choose to fight, fists ready when I lunge for him.
But he's also skilled, and nimbly dodges my attack with a side swipe, still reaching out toward me when he manages to grab my neck. He presses two fingers on my scent gland, applying pressure.
“I'm sorry, D,” he repeats just as a strange odor consumes my airways as darkness pulls me into an unconscious state.
***
Stirring awake, my head feels heavy as I bat my eyelids and adjust my vision to the blinding brightness that surrounds me. The last thing I remember is attacking Hunter before he touched my neck, and instinctively, I try reaching for that spot and find I can’t lift my hand.
Gasping when I see the leather bands tying my wrists to the armrests of a leather-padded wooden chair, I chuckle mirthlessly, lifting my head and training narrowed, calculating eyes on my captor.
“Hunter,” I growl furiously. “What do you think you're doing?”
Hunter peels himself from the counter behind him, remaining oddly calm for someone who just kidnapped me.
“Wolfsbane,” he says smoothly, unfolding his arms and lifting a paper off the coffee table between us. “It was the only way I could subdue you, because I know how strong you are. You wouldn't go down without a fight.”
My gut churns at the way his eyes twinkle mischievously.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” I scoff. “Should I be flattered that you've snatched me and tied me to this chair?”
“Well, you can get out of it if you want to; I know that, too,” he chuckles. “But I needed to get you out of Portland.”
I clench my jaw with anger filling my nerves. “Where are we?”
“Long Island,” he reveals nonchalantly.
“A human town? Why? What do you want?” My scowl deepens as he comes closer.
“It's not so much what I want, Delilah. But rather, what you need.”
“What I need?” I frown. “What are you talking about?”
Hunter sighs as he straightens out the paper with a flick, then holds it out for me.
The bold heading at the top startles me when I read it aloud. “Marriage license…?” I lift wildly disbelieving eyes at Hunter, who remains calm and collected. “I don't understand.”
“It's simple, really,” he says with a shrug. “Marry me, and you won't have to marry the prince.”
“M-Marry you?” I gasp in shock. “Why would I marry you?”
Hunter raises one brow shaped like a blade. “Do you wanna marry the prince?”
The question has me spinning, my shoulders slouching as I mentally reel from his offer. “I—I don't.”
“Then marry me,” he offers with a charming smile. “That way, you don't have to marry the guy your parents picked for you.”
I bat my eyelids in disbelief as I stare at Hunter, my mind racing at the speed of lightning with too many questions.
“What's in it for you?” I ask, to which Hunter turns around, giving me his back, as if that answers my question.
There's a moment of hesitation that has me almost believing that he cares about me more than he's let on in the past, and I'm suddenly sprung into those memories when I'm able to trace my gaze over the outline of his firm build, from his broad shoulders to his tiny waist, and firm butt cheeks pulling his pants taut…
No, Delilah! Stop it!
Hunter clears his throat and turns around as if he's aware of my ogling, wearing a cool expression that betrays my suspicions.
“There's nothing in it for me, really,” he sighs. “But it's the squad I'm concerned about.”
“We're not in black ops anymore, Hunter.”
“I know, but I heard about the trouble with the rogues and how you helped Tyler's mate with her powers. We may have retired, but trouble will always exist. And the squad? They need you.”
“You're doing this for them?” I ask with raised brows.
Hunter nods measuredly. “Think about it—if you marry the prince, you'll be whisked off to Europe, and they'll never see you again. You're important to the squad, and they need you. You know that.”
My lips part as if I'm going to object, but I snap my mouth shut when I recall everything that's happened these past few months, along with my conversation with Emily.
How can I accept the marriage to the Lycan Prince when it means I won't see my friends again? When I won't be there to help them?
The offer is tempting, but it's Hunter I'll have to marry. Hunter, my fated mate who rejected me and broke my heart.
“I need time to think,” I say, dropping my gaze, but Hunter walks over and sets the marriage license on my lap before he begins to untie the leather straps binding my wrists to the chair.
The brisk touch of his fingertips brushing my knuckles is what sets my pulse alight, but it also brings awareness to what might be the most difficult mission I've ever had to undertake, and that's marrying the man who hurt me.
The man I can't trust.
The man who turned my love into hatred.
“You don't have time, Delilah. The prince is coming to Scarborough in a few days. Marrying me is the lesser of two evils,” he says as he steps back when he's done freeing me from the restraints, and he picks up the paper from the table. “All you have to do is sign this.”
Pursing my lips in contemplation, I stare at the marriage license as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest. A single piece of paper determines my future, allowing me to escape the fate my parents set up for me and remain where I'm needed, amongst my friends and my people.
The only woe is that I'll be marrying the enemy, the man who ripped my heart to shreds with indifference that felt like the sharp claws of his black wolf. More like a black heart that couldn't care about my feelings, but now he cares about our friends.
What choice do I have?