Chapter 18 #2
I started thinking of an excuse. I even thought about getting Hayden drunk, but the man rarely drank any hard liquor.
And it took a lot of alcohol to get a supernatural drunk.
Also, we wouldn’t have the feast with the kingdom people that generally followed the marking ritual.
The dinner and the celebrations were postponed until after the crowning ceremony tomorrow.
The marking ritual was private, as Hayden had promised me.
After the marking and mating, the couple was supposed to shift and run together in their wolf forms in the forest. Then the mates also marked each other as wolves.
But that wouldn’t be happening with us today.
On the one hand, I regretted not having a wolf. But on the other hand, I was grateful that I wouldn’t have Hayden’s wolf mounting me.
Using exhaustion as an excuse, I announced my departure to my parents. As they walked down the marble hall, they threw occasional worried glances over their shoulders at me.
“Hayden, I’m not feeling myself and need to rest. I’m off to bed,” I told him bluntly.
“But don’t you think we should share the same bed tonight?” he asked, his disarming smile turned up to full wattage.
“Not yet. I need more time.”
His smile fizzled out, and he gazed at me, his expression hardening.
“Fine. But after the crowning ceremony tomorrow, no more stalling, mate,” he said in a snappy voice, making goose bumps rise on my neck.
Back in my room, sleep eluded me. I tossed and turned, kicking the blanket off me and pulling it back over my body. I was a jumble of hot and cold flashes. My neck throbbed, but my heart… Gods, it hurt worse.
In the dark room, I kept rubbing my marking spot, brushing my fingers gently over the raised skin.
After a marking ceremony, the mates received their claiming mark.
In the cases where one of the mates was from another pack, that mate would also receive the crescent royal pack marking tattooed on their skin, showing that they now belonged to the kingdom.
Anxiously awaiting daybreak, I fought the urge to spring to my bathroom and stare in the mirror for any tattoos on my skin. If how I felt was any indication of whether I’d receive the crescent moon tattoo, I was sure I would find no royal pack marking anywhere on my body in the morning.
After staring at the white ceiling for a long time, as the first rays of daylight peeked through my window, I stretched the achy muscles of my shoulders and neck and went to the bathroom. I gasped, not ready for my reflection in the mirror.
Thin tribal lines started at the two puncture wounds and dropped to my collar and my shoulders. I had never seen mating or pack marks like these before. They twisted and turned gracefully, creating an enchanting design that captivated my eyes.
My marks took the form of an intricate, delicate pattern made with soft luminescent interwoven lines resembling vines. The lines were imprinted on my skin with remarkable precision, as if a master calligrapher carefully drew each one.
Because the marks started at the place where Hayden had marked me and radiated down with comforting, alluring warmth, I suspected these tattoos were mating marks, having nothing to do with the royal pack and everything to do with my mate.
But at the same time, a dull ache settled in my heart as if it were making itself home there.
Blinking rapidly, I thought my eyes deceived me, but I leaned over the vanity, closer to the mirror.
The lines seemed alive, steadily shifting and pulsating with my heartbeat.
Even though the marks rested upon my skin, they weren’t merely a static symbol.
The marks looked like a living connection between mates.
What was happening to me?
The lines were supposed to symbolize a profound bond and unbreakable connection between mates. They were supposed to be a symbol of love, commitment, and loyalty, a union of the souls, but instead, my skin itched there, and I scratched at the marks.
These new tattoos would constantly remind me of my destiny stuck with the wrong mate, bound to the wrong man.
They were not what they were supposed to be for werewolves. Perhaps they were different because I was a witch.
The marks between mates from the kingdom were rougher. They carried a rugged, primal allure. Not delicate like mine.
The werewolf mating marks were unique but similar in a way.
For most werewolf mates, the patterns were crisscrossing lines resembling claw marks.
Others formed a circle close to the moon’s imperfect shape and possessed a rough texture.
The usual lines were jagged and uneven, demonstrating the untamed nature of the werewolves.
My tattoos blended into my skin and seemed to glow. Perhaps mine looked different because I was a chosen mate. But that couldn’t be it. My mother was a chosen mate to my father, and her mark was a small, almost circular moon.
Another thought struck me, leaving me breathless, and I immediately lifted my arm to examine my bracelet. I did a double take and stared at the bright gold. The fifth symbol was still missing, although I was now fully mated to Hayden.
I dashed out of my bedroom and knocked impatiently on Hayden’s door.
He had a lot of explaining to do.