Chapter 8 #2
“Yes,” she answered truthfully.
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Why?
“He tried to kill her,” Naomi answered first.
Grandpa gave a curt nod. “Then let’s get started.”
Fawn,
Is it unfaithful to keep writing you while betrothed to another? It feels that way. I haven’t fucked anyone since I agreed to the marriage arrangement with Cali. I won’t humiliate her like that, but I can’t give you up.
It’s sick.
I can’t find it in myself to love her, but as of late, a warm feeling often fills me. It’s difficult to identify the emotion. I’ve never felt it before. The closest thing I can compare it to was how I felt when I felt you, just not as strong—like a faint echo.
The strangest part is that it’s there, but I don’t think it’s my own.
On more than one occasion, I’ve wondered if it’s you. I keep reminding myself you’re gone, that it’s not you, but my soul won’t listen.
I’m king now, but I feel like a fraud. I never wanted the position, but I’ll do right by my people and rule them the best I can.
The upside is I can now leave my kingdom.
I’ve not mentioned my plan to anyone, but two heirs will be taking the throne two months before my wedding, giving me the perfect excuse to travel.
I’m going to look for you myself before I marry. I don’t trust my father, I never have, but he knows the importance of the mate bond. Without it, the royal bloodline will weaken, putting the safety of our kingdom at risk. His obsession with protecting Eden wouldn’t allow him to risk it.
Even a Fate told me to marry Cali, and yet…
I’m an asshole for looking. I’ve told Cali I hold no affection for her; I’d never be so cruel as to lie to her about that, but if she knew I was chasing a ghost, the woman I truly want, it would break her heart.
Hope outweighs my guilt, and not even the Fates could stop me from looking for you.
I know my efforts are futile, but if I don’t do this, I’ll never stop wondering, what if ?
Tragically Yours,
Dean
Dean replaced his quill and sat back, tipping his head to stare at the ceiling.
“What am I doing?” he muttered.
A soft knock on his door pulled him from his self-loathing, and he shoved the letter in his drawer.
“Come in,” he called and immediately wish he hadn’t when Cali strolled through the door.
She smiled wide. “Hello, handsome.”
His guilt spiked, and for a moment, he considered calling off the wedding. She deserved better.
“Good morning,” he greeted her and stood. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Her words drowned into background noise as his heart tried to break his ribs. What the fuck? The anxiety rose swiftly and crashed just as hard, replaced by a painful ache. He clutched at his chest, trying to work out what was happening.
Hurt and betrayal, he recognized, but they weren’t his. He knew the full force of Fawn’s emotions all too well. They had been seared into his soul at the age of thirteen.
His lungs seized as pure unadulterated terror gripped him. Screaming . Fawn was screaming. He grabbed at his hair, not knowing what to do or how to help her.
The screaming stopped, and the fear faded. Confusion. Worry. Relief. Determination . The latter lingered, a slight pulsing deep within him. Whatever scared her, she survived.
He faintly heard Cali calling his name, and her gentle hands guided him back into the chair. Slowly, the last remnants of Fawn winked out, as they always did.
He rested his head in his hands, feeling insane. Was his brain pulling this shit because marrying Cali would sever the bond? If it still existed.
If a mate married someone else, the bond broke. No one knew much beyond that because it’d never happened before, but it’s stated plainly in the ancient texts.
“Fuck,” he cursed.
“Dean, you’re scaring me,” Cali said, squatting in front of him. “Talk to me.”
A few months ago, he’d confessed to Cali that he’d occasionally felt the mate bond. He’d wanted to be transparent with her, but she’d gotten upset and left. They never brought it up again.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he lied. “Just something I ate trying to burn its way up my throat.”
Her healer training kicked in, and she stood to leave. “I’ll ring for licorice root tea.”
“Wait,” Dean stopped her, knowing what he had to do. She faced him expectantly. “I need to speak with you.”
Her lips pursed, turning the skin around her mouth white. “That sounds ominous.”
Dean stood and met her halfway. “Cali, I can’t marry you without searching for Fawn first.”
Cali jerked back like he’d slapped her. “What?” She shook her head. “Fawn is dead.”
He looked away, unable to face her—coward that he was. “You know I still feel her sometimes. I can’t marry you while pining after another, wondering if she’s out there somewhere.”
A resigned sigh drew his attention back to her. “Oh, Dean.” She patted his arm. “If this is what you need. But promise me something.” He waited silently for her to continue. “When you return home without her, I need you to let her go. For both of our sakes.”
He hated himself. “I promise,” he lied.