Chapter Thirty
Ryan
Maya is quiet on the drive back to her place. I can practically hear the cogs turning in her head. Did she really not have any suspicions? Is she only now putting everything together?
Her frozen, deer in the headlights expression has me questioning what I’ve believed myself. If she had an animal, she should have known. And if she doesn’t know, does that mean she isn’t a shifter? What if she’s something else?
Her seat belt is already off as I take out the key, and she jumps out of the car like it’s on fire.
“Maya, wait,” I call after her, but she doesn’t respond.
Tonight has been a lot for her. I shouldn’t have pushed it after everything with her father, but my wolf was clawing at me so hard I couldn’t keep it in.
My need to look after her—to make everything better—couldn’t be met while she was still thinking of me as a patient.
“Did you follow me?” she asks when I join her in the sitting room. Her voice is calm and steady, but somehow not in a good way. It’s as though she has no fight left.
“Yes,” I admit, lingering in the doorway, afraid that I’ll spook her if I get too close.
“Why? Why go to so much effort? Why the duplicity? Just why?”
“Because you are my fated mate.”
“What does that even mean?” she snaps, her eyes turning yellow and boring into me. I hate her anger—despise that it’s directed at me—but damn if I didn’t need the confirmation that it’s not in my head. That I hadn’t made up the color shift in her eyes.
“The tingles when our skin connects, the way my scent makes your mouth water, the magnetic pull that tugs at you at all times, begging you to be near me… It’s Fate. We’re meant to be.”
She looks at me as if she wants to deny it, but she can’t. Her eyes well with tears, though they don’t spill over.
“There’s so much more that I need to tell you. But not tonight. You’re dead on your feet. Go to sleep, Maya. I’ll look after the dogs.”
“I don’t want you to stay here,” she argues, folding her arms and glaring at me. “I haven’t even begun processing all of this, but I know I can’t be around you right now.”
“Okay,” I agree, because I can’t push her more. I can’t push her past what she’s willing to give me. “Can I look after the dogs? Let you focus on your family and take this one thing off your plate?”
She nods before turning and traipsing up the stairs.
Her whole body looks as if it’s weighed down.
Like the thought of belonging to me is eating her alive.
This isn’t how it’s meant to be. We should have both felt the pull and been mated and claimed within hours.
Not struggling with this drawn-out subterfuge. Fuck.
I don’t know how I should have done it. I tried to be upfront with her that first day in her office, and she shot me down. I wanted to do it the right way, but I couldn’t just let her go. Not when she is literally everything to me.