Chapter Two
I CAN’T REMEMBER FEELING more grateful than the moment I hear that bell go...ding.
The speed dating event has come to an end. I’ve officially upheld my end of the deal. And with that—
“Have a good day, monsieur.”
I mumble the words out as fast as I can while rising to my feet in clumsy haste, and I make sure to completely avoid his gaze as I turn to leave.
“Ms. Hondros—”
You know what?
Forget making a dignified exit.
I’m totally going to make a run for it.
But nope.
These crazy-high heels Anastasia forced me to wear prove to be my downfall, literally, and the next thing I know, I’m stumbling forward with all the grace of a newborn giraffe.
“Careful.”
I don’t even have the chance to cry out, with Hexius easily catching hold of my elbow and pulling me back with gentle ease.
Hot!
His touch, I mean.
Not him.
I totally don’t think he’s hot. I’d be an idiot to think that, considering what happened six years ago. All I’m saying is that I’m...I’m not used to having physical contact with any man, is all. And anyway—
“Thank you.”
One always has to mind their manners, even while politely extricating one’s self from the person’s hold.
And then off I go again, but this time I’m focused on being less hasty and more careful. Stumbling every three seconds is just going to slow me down—
“The exit is in the opposite direction.”
I nearly jump out of my skin at finding him right next to me, with his long-legged stride allowing him to effortlessly catch up without breaking a sweat. Why is he doing this, really? Why bother—wait, did he just say—
I skid to a stop. Look around. And...crap.
He’s right.
The exit is in the opposite direction, and...huh.
Is it just me or are more and more people suddenly staring at us?
This speed dating event isn’t your hole-in-the-wall kind of thing.
It’s massive and massively funded. It’s on Year 4 (yes, it started right after That Day and it’s not a coincidence), and so with less than a thousand participants divided by age, there should be too many of us to notice just one Hexius Mercier.
Right?
“Samira—”
Argh.
I really wish he’d stop making my heart skipping a beat every time he says my name like that. And why is he so...so...oh, I don’t even know where to start. Why is someone like him here, and why is he wasting his time talking to me when he couldn’t even bear turning his gaze to me six years ago?
“Please just go away.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“I think you can—”
“And if you’d allow me—”
I pivot on my heel while he’s speaking.
Crap.
I end up nearly crashing into a potted plant. Why oh why can’t I remember that these heels are not made for pivoting? Honestly, I’m not sure what they’re made for at this point. Are just supposed to make you look good and have really long legs without actually...walking?
Hexius approaches, and I immediately raise a hand to stop him. “I’m fine.”
And surprisingly enough, he actually heeds my words, his gaze watchful as I right myself.
“It’s him, isn’t he?”
“The Leopard King?”
“I can’t believe it. The Leopard King!”
“Does this mean he was one of the participants?”
The whispers only get louder with every second that passes, and as soon as I regain my balance, I find myself curious enough to look around and...
Where?
Who is it?
And why are they all looking at Hexius like—
No way.
My gaze snaps back to his.
And to his credit, he doesn’t prolong my torment.
“Oui.”
He’s the Leopard King?
I’ve never been the type to keep up with who’s who in preter royalty or whatever it is they call their A-listers.
For most people, That Day changed everything.
But I have my own version of That Day, and it took place six years ago, when this man’s rejection had me kicked out of the family home, my name taken off the will, and everyone I knew and loved.
..showed their true colors by turning their back on me one by one.
“Perhaps you’ll now allow me a moment to speak with you?”
I have this childish urge to say no, and...
“No.”
Because ultimately, him being preter or whatever doesn’t change a thing.
“So please just go.”
I dodge around a decorative pillar, trying to lose him in the crowd, but he follows without rushing, those long legs eating up distance effortlessly. It’s like being stalked by a very patient, very elegant, very hot handsome heartless predator.
“It will only take a moment.”
“I’m not interested.”
“It’s really him, it’s really him! Hexius Mercier!”
A stampede erupts from nowhere, preter groupies going after him, armed with selfie sticks instead of pitchforks, and they all want to kill him...with love.
Everything after that happened too fast.
Even for the Leopard King.
He stiffens as if sensing danger, but by then it’s too late.
A horde of women divides us in a blink, and in the commotion, I’m pushed and shoved this way and that, all in a matter of seconds, until—bam!
My head slams straight into something concrete, pain explodes in my temples, and I think...I think the world is spinning a little too fast?
A part of me is just waiting for myself to fall and hit the ground, but strong arms catch me instead, and of course, of course, it has to be him.
Hexius.
Leopard King.
My own version of...That Day.
The words are still on my mind when I regain consciousness, and I’m hoping and praying, oh, please, please, please...
“I’m afraid I’m still here.”
My eyes fly wide open, and I barely register the fact that we’re in some kind of clinic. All I can think about is...no, no, no.
“C-Can you—”
Oh gosh, I can’t even make myself it.
I just know it’s going to be so, so bad if he can actually read my mind.
“It’s your face I’m able to read, not your thoughts.”
Oh, thank goodness for small miracles.
“But the mating bond might change that.”
Right, right.
His words just add to my relief. Nothing to worry then, since mates are just preter to preter.
“How are you feeling?”
“Woozy.”
“I apologize for that.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I failed to protect you today. It won’t happen again.”
My mouth opens and closes. Is this a preter thing, him feeling protective and responsible for a weak human like me? But if it is, then why...did he reject me like that six years ago? Or is it only someone’s physical well-being that matters to them?
“I can see the questions in your eyes, Samira. Ask anything of me, and I will tell you the truth.”
“And why should I believe that?”
“I can make a blood pact with you about this if you wish. It will kill me if I lie.”
Oh.
But then a pocket blade appears in his hand out of nowhere, and when I realize he’s about to slice his palm open—
“I believe you!”
“It’s alright, this will only—”
Oh, stars above, what can I say that will make this man stop—
“Why are you here?”
I nearly die when I realize the blade’s already made contact and a fresh drop of blood has now stained his skin.
“I have many other questions, too,” I add in a rush, “so can you just stop with the cutting of flesh?”
“Of course.”
I can’t help sighing in relief as the blade disappears like a sleight of hands, but I know it’s really his preter speed at work.
“And I already told you the reason earlier.”
My brows furrow. “You didn’t say—”
Wait.
Surely, it can’t be—
It seems I fit all of your requirements, Samira.
—that?
I look at him, feeling this time that he’s the one who’s grown a pair of horns even though yes, I do know that leopards don’t have horns.
“I don’t understand.”
He tilts his head slightly. “You’ll need to elaborate.”
How soon can we arrange our wedding?
My head actually starts hurting upon remembering this, and it hurts even more when more memories resurface, and I find myself reliving that day from six years ago.
“But you rejected me,” I hear myself say unsteadily.
“I did.”
Just like that. No emotion, no explanation, just calm acknowledgment.
“Then now you want to marry me?”
“I do.”
Seriously?
I look at him incredulously, and my head just keeps hurting with how he only raises a brow at my direction like I’m the one being unreasonable.
“That’s really all you have to say?”
“Then you’ll have to be more speci—”
Oh, this man is going to be the death of me, and he’s a near complete stranger at that!
“I want to know why you rejected me,” I choke out.
He’s quiet for a moment, those golden eyes studying me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
“The simple answer? Because That Day had not yet happened when we first met, and hiding the truth from my own wife was an unnecessary inconvenience I didn’t care to sign up for.”
Oh.
Okay.
That made sense.
Before That Day, humans in general knew nothing about preters, and preters (also in general) had preferred to keep it that way, too.
I totally get how complicated it would be for a preter to marry a human wife. That alone would’ve been enough explanation. He could’ve left it at that.
But he didn’t, so...
“What’s the not-simple answer?”
He leans back in the chair, and the air around us changes.
Once still and calm, it now vibrates with a brooding kind of tension that’s reflected in the rigid set of his shoulders.
His gorgeous face, almost always a perfectly expressionless mask, now has something to reveal, with the way his lips tighten, even if it’s just a fraction.
The silence stretches between us, and my courage starts to falter. I begin to wonder if I’ve foolishly treaded in dangerous waters for no reason. But before I can tell him to just forget it—
“My rejection has nothing to do with you.”
I feel like I’ve just become the receiving end of the preter version of ‘it’s not you, it’s me’—
“At that time, I was in love with someone else.”
—and I’m unhappy to realize I’m absolutely right.