Chapter 5 - Liv
The ceremony took place in a private room in Town Hall, attended by three elders and the Oracle. It was a small room, and everyone turned to look at me when I walked in. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I glanced down self-consciously.
I had put on a dress. It wasn’t the fancy one that I had always imagined I would wear for my mating ceremony, but it was a nice one that complemented my curves with a plunging neckline. It was the dress I wore for special celebrations; I guessed this technically qualified.
Drake was in a black suit. I tried not to notice how the cut flattered his broad shoulders and biceps while also tapering at his trim waist. My heart stuttered. I wasn’t sure if it was because he had bothered to dress up or because of how good he looked in it.
He watched as I approached, his gaze burning into me. His lips were a straight line, and I couldn’t tell if it was just him or if he really was that dissatisfied with the situation.
Thaddeus, one of the elders, began speaking. I could barely hear them. The whole thing felt like a dream as I bobbed from foot to foot. I looked up at Drake, who still held that perpetual surly expression. I tried not to wince at the sight of it.
If you’re so miserable, why didn’t you just let me leave? I thought bitterly. Why make us both go through with this?
It didn’t make any sense to me. Neither of us wanted this. It would have made it easier if he had let me leave.
His eyes flicked up and down, taking in my dress, his eyes lingering on my lips.
I could have burned under that gaze. Need and lust flashed in his eyes, that surly demeanor dissipating for the briefest of moments, replaced with a hunger I had never seen before.
Then it was gone, and his normal expression returned.
Something about seeing that burst of lust made me hesitate, that certainty that he was always miserable and grumpy wavering.
He’s always been like this, I thought. Maybe it’s just part of his nature.
And then it was time for him to make the mating mark, the one that would solidify the bond between us.
A twitch of nervous excitement ran through me as Drake took my arms and brought me closer to him.
His scent wrapped around me, and my skin burned where he held me.
We were so close, and the air felt charged between us.
His fingers tightened. He bent down and brought his mouth to my collarbone. A moment’s hesitation, then he clamped down.
I had expected it to be painful, and it was, but only for a moment.
Then, a warmth washed over me, and I sucked in a breath as the sensation of the mating bond slammed into me.
Suddenly, all of those feelings I had felt about Drake felt more acute, that need and lust for him burning and intensifying.
I noticed everything about him: each individual callus, the pressure of his fingers on my arms, the way his lips felt on my neck, everywhere our bodies touched as he continued to hold me.
It wasn’t just more of an awareness of him. I could sense emotions that weren’t entirely my own. They were Drake’s. I could sense his nervousness, his own mixed emotions about this entire situation. Most importantly, I could feel his own want and lust. It mixed and melded with my own
When he moved away, I caught a flicker of surprise in his gaze, as if he was dealing with the same thing I was. My heart pounded. If I could feel his lust and want, that meant he could feel mine. I didn’t want that.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and glanced away.
After thanking the elders, we went home, neither of us speaking. It wasn’t until we got inside the house that Drake broke the silence.
“Are you all right?” Drake asked as he closed the door.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. “Just still getting used to…” I gestured at the mark on my neck. “It’s…strange, that’s all.”
“Strange how?” He came to stand in front of me.
“Just a lot of different emotions,” I said.
“I know.”
His hands went to my arms, his eyes flicking up and down my body, lingering on my breasts and my lips.
The space between us was both infinite and infinitesimal.
I couldn’t breathe because if I did, I would drown in his scent.
An overwhelming urge came over me to run my fingers through his hair, to wrap my arms around his neck, and pull his face down to mine.
That need for him had always been there, but never this acute.
It had surged, intensifying, as if it had been on a dimmer switch and someone had thrown it all the way up.
A different jolt lurched through me, a need that didn’t feel entirely my own but just as hungry, if not more so.
I couldn’t place it at first, could only feel the raw need and hunger there that made every inch of my body seem to burn.
Then I realized it wasn’t my emotion at all, not entirely.
It was coming through the mating bond. It was Drake’s.
He wanted me even more than I wanted him.
His hand went to my waist, and he gripped it tight, the touch sending shivers rippling through me. His eyes flicked up and down my body. He pulled me closer, his tug on my waist a command, until we were nearly flush with one another. He considered me for a long moment.
“You know, that dress is incredibly distracting,” he growled.
“Is it?” I nearly squeaked.
He nodded. “It suits you. It complements your figure.” His hand tightened on my waist.
I wanted him. I wanted this to happen. It was what I had wanted for years when I was younger.
Now, here it was. All it would take would be clearing those final few inches to press my mouth to his, and we would both be lost. I could tell by his expression that he was thinking the same thing, that he wanted the same thing.
My heart kept stuttering. It would be so, so easy.
But I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t do anything with Drake that I would regret later. And this wasn’t me. It wasn’t him. It was the mating bond, nothing else. If I gave in to these urges now, then I would never forgive myself.
Taking a deep breath, I reached out and pushed him gently away. “We’re not doing this,” I said.
Drake blinked, his hands falling away from my waist. “Why not?” he asked.
I gave a frustrated laugh as I ran my fingers through my hair. I didn’t miss the way he watched, as if me mussing my hair had triggered something. It only made that need and craving worse.
“Believe me, I want it,” I said. “I really do.”
Hunger and lust rippled through the mating bond as it spread across his face. He took a half-step forward, but he didn’t move any further.
“Then what’s the problem?” he asked.
I bit my lip, trying to find the right words. “It’s not us,” I said. “It’s just the mating bond. And I don’t want to have sex just because of the bond. It wouldn’t feel real to me.”
He snarled. “All right,” he growled. “If that’s what you want.”
It isn’t!, part of me screamed. But I can’t do this. If anything ever happens between us, then I want it to be because it’s a conscious decision, and I’m not there yet.
Except I couldn’t tell Drake that. Not him.
Telling him that would lead to a whole other set of problems that I didn’t want to broach.
More than anything, I didn’t want to admit that I still wanted him when I thought I had moved on.
Telling him that I was still attracted to him would draw me back to that day that I tried so hard to put behind me.
It would open me up to getting hurt once more.
I had dealt with his rejection once before. I couldn’t put myself through it again.
When I didn’t respond or refute his assertion, he spun on his heels and stalked off deeper into the house, leaving me alone in the living room, my thoughts and still-pounding heart keeping me company.