Fated Flames

Chapter 4: Fated Flames

Fiona’s POV

The sun had long begun its descent beyond the hills, bathing the world in a soft orange glow. I stood by the window, staring out at the endless fields and forests that stretched beyond the castle. To anyone else, the sight might have been beautiful, but to me, it felt hollow—like the pit that had formed in my chest ever since the ceremony.

Three days had passed since I became Quinton’s queen, and yet, it didn’t feel real. Everything about my new life felt foreign: the castle, the title, even the ring on my finger. I twisted it absentmindedly, the cool metal unfamiliar against my skin. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to any of this.

The Mate Bond. Everyone always spoke of it like it was the most precious thing—the ultimate gift from the Moon Goddess. It was supposed to bring joy, to unite two souls as one. But for me, it felt like a curse. Being bound to Quinton wasn’t a gift—it was a trap. 

I hadn’t asked for this.

And neither had he, from the way he acted. 

Quinton—Alpha King Quinton—was everything the rumors had promised: ruthless, cold, and distant. Over the past three days, we had hardly spoken, and when we did, it was brief, businesslike. He wasn’t cruel, exactly, but there was a wall between us, one I didn’t know how to break down. 

Maybe I didn’t even want to.

I sighed, letting my hand drop from the ring as I turned away from the window. The room I’d been given was lavish, far grander than anything I’d ever known in my father’s pack. A grand bed with silk sheets, intricately carved furniture, and enough space to feel like an empty chasm. But no amount of luxury could make this place feel like home. 

A sharp knock at the door startled me from my thoughts. My heart leaped in my chest, even though I knew it wasn’t Quinton. It never was.

“Your Majesty?” Liana, one of the castle attendants, opened the door slightly and peeked inside. “The Alpha King has requested your presence in the dining hall.”

My heart skipped a beat. Quinton had avoided eating with me since the wedding, leaving me to dine alone in this vast room. I wasn’t sure if it was out of indifference or discomfort, but I hadn’t minded the solitude. Now, the thought of sitting across from him, forced to endure the awkward silence that always followed our interactions, filled me with dread.

But I had no choice. He was the Alpha King, and I was his queen. Even if neither of us wanted this, we were bound.

I nodded at Liana, forcing a smile. “Thank you. I’ll be down shortly.”

Once she left, I took a deep breath and walked to the mirror, smoothing out the dress I’d changed into earlier. It was a deep blue—Quinton’s favorite color, or so I’d been told by one of the maids. The gown hugged my figure, its silky fabric clinging to me in a way that made me feel both beautiful and uncomfortable at the same time.

“Just get through it, Fiona,” I muttered to myself as I stared at my reflection. “You’ve survived worse.”

I had, hadn’t I?

The betrayal from Phillip still lingered in my heart like a fresh wound. Every time I thought of him—of the love I’d lost, the promises he’d broken—it was like a knife twisting deeper. I had trusted him, believed in our future together. And he had chosen my sister.

Shaking my head, I pushed the thought away. Phillip wasn’t here. He wasn’t the one I was bound to. That role belonged to Quinton now, whether I liked it or not.

Gathering my courage, I left the room and made my way to the dining hall. The castle was eerily quiet, the sound of my footsteps echoing off the stone walls as I walked down the grand corridors. Every inch of this place felt too large, too imposing. I wondered if Quinton had ever felt that way too, or if this was the only life he’d ever known.

When I arrived at the entrance of the dining hall, two guards stationed outside bowed slightly and opened the doors for me. My breath hitched as I stepped inside.

Quinton was already seated at the far end of the long, polished table. He looked up when I entered, his piercing eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, the weight of his gaze was suffocating, but I forced myself to stand tall, chin lifted, as I walked toward him.

“Fiona,” he said, his voice deep and smooth, though there was no warmth in it. “I’m glad you could join me.”

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “You summoned me, after all.”

He raised an eyebrow, a faint flicker of amusement crossing his features. “That I did.”

I sat down across from him, the massive table stretching between us like a canyon. It was almost laughable, the distance—both physical and emotional—that lay between us, but I bit my tongue, keeping the thought to myself.

The meal was already laid out before us, a lavish spread of roasted meats, vegetables, and delicate pastries. The servants moved silently, placing more dishes on the table before retreating into the shadows, leaving us alone.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The silence grew heavier with each passing second, until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why now?” I asked, my voice quiet but steady. “You’ve avoided eating with me for days. What’s changed?”

Quinton’s eyes darkened slightly as he set down his glass. “I thought it was time we spoke.”

“About what?”

“Us.” His gaze didn’t waver, and I found it hard to meet his eyes, though I forced myself to. “We’re mates, Fiona. We can’t keep avoiding each other forever.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “I didn’t think you cared about the bond.”

“I don’t,” he said bluntly, and the sting of his words hit me harder than I expected. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re bound by it. Whether we want it or not, it’s there. We’re tied together now, and we need to figure out how to live with that.”

I could feel the heat rising in my chest, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “So, that’s it? We just accept it and move on? Pretend like everything’s fine?”

Quinton’s jaw tightened. “I’m not asking you to pretend, Fiona. I’m asking you to understand. The Mate Bond isn’t something we can break, no matter how much we might wish to.”

I laughed bitterly. “You think I don’t know that? You think I wanted this? I had a life before you—someone I loved, someone who cared about me. And now I’m stuck here, bound to you, with no say in any of it.”

His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite place—anger, frustration, or maybe even pain. “You think this is easy for me? You think I wanted to be mated to someone who resents me?”

I opened my mouth to snap back, but his words stopped me cold. Resent. Did I resent him?

I wasn’t sure anymore.

I looked down at my hands, the anger slowly draining out of me. “I don’t resent you,” I whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. “I just… I don’t know how to live like this.”

For a moment, Quinton was silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. “Neither do I.”

I glanced up at him, surprised by the admission. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before.

“We were both forced into this,” he continued, leaning back in his chair. “But that doesn’t mean we have to be enemies. We’re in this together, whether we like it or not.”

I studied him for a long moment, unsure of what to say. There was truth in his words, and I knew it. I had spent so much time fighting this, fighting him, that I hadn’t considered what it might mean to just… stop. To accept it, even if it wasn’t what I wanted.

Maybe he was right. Maybe the only way forward was to stop fighting.

“I don’t want to be your enemy,” I said quietly.

His eyes softened slightly, though his expression remained guarded. “Good. Because I don’t want to be yours either.”

The tension in the room seemed to ease, just a little. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

We ate in silence after that, but it wasn’t the same kind of silence as before. It felt less like a wall between us and more like the space we needed to figure out what came next. I wasn’t sure what the future held for us—whether we could ever truly be mates in more than just name—but for the first time, I felt like it might be possible.

As the meal came to an end, Quinton stood, signaling that our time together was over. I rose as well, feeling the weight of the day settling back onto my shoulders.

“Good night, Fiona,” he said, his voice low.

I nodded. “Good night, Quinton.”

As I left the dining hall and made my way back to my chambers, I realized that something had shifted between us tonight. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give me hope—hope that ma

ybe, just maybe, we could learn to live with this bond. 

Maybe, in time, we could even learn to embrace it.