Chapter 5

5.

Selena’s Pov

An hour later I'm standing in the living room amidst decorations and food as my mate and his brother sit across from me. I'm stunned, shocked to my core. Neither of them have given me more than a passing glance.

I've been in a daze ever since Axel left. Just turned around and left.

But surely, he'll stop this. He won't let me get engaged to his brother, I think, as my step father starts saying the rites.

He won't, I think, as our fingers are pricked so blood meets. Any moment now, I think, as the Alpha chants the words that will start a bind between us.

But he doesn't. Ten minutes later, I'm betrothed to the Lycan prince.

I'm so confused. He's my mate, he should not be ok with me marrying his fucking brother. How can he sit there, and just watch?

I slink away as soon as the festivities start and sit at the back of the house.

I've been sitting outside for a long time. A big part of me hopes he shows up. And he does, after the sun sets.

Goddess. My throat runs dry. My heart feels like it wants to run out to him, like he can stop it from hurting. He's so handsome, his hair catching the waxing moonlight. And when he held me I felt so at peace, like I could just relax. It felt right and I want him to hold me again.

He walks slowly and sits down beside me. He's warm, and I want to rest against him. But he won't like that. He let his brother have me.

“Nobody can know.” His words are flat, matter of fact. “I can’t be with you. I can’t stop this marriage. I can't . . .”

I had to have been expecting it. He let me marry his brother, for goddess’ sake but tears began to burn my eyes. He pauses for a long time, before he sighs. “No one can know we're mates.”

My heart breaks. He's fucking ashamed of me. The big, bad, bold Lycan king can't be with a lowly omega. I'm not enough for him.

But he hasn't rejected me, which means I'll probably belong to both of them. I wonder if they share often. I wonder if they'll share me with themselves. “Yes sir.”

I feel the tears and I'm just too tired to stop them. I don't want to be shared, I just want my mate and I want him to want me too. But that's not going to happen, it seems.

“Don’t cry,” he says softly and his hands reach up to wipe my face.

As much as I don't like what's going on, I shudder. It has occurred to me that I could reject him, I could say the words. But then I'd really have nothing. I'd feel none of this pleasure from his touch, from his gravelly voice and I'd rather bash my head into the log we’re sitting on.

He gently wipes the tears away until they stop not long after.

“As for your assailant, the bastard, he's a coward hiding behind your alpha. I can't get to him.”

He's angry, I can hear it but I'm so bitter. It's a horrible taste in my mouth and I feel the need to snarl and bite and pinch.

I've never spoken out of line to authority before, Never.

But maybe it's because he's still my mate even if he doesn't want me, maybe because I'm so tired being bounced up and down from one person to another, betrayed by the very few people who are supposed to love me but I only hesitate for a moment before I spit, “You're supposed to be this all-powerful Lycan, yet there's so many things you can't do.”

He recoils, physically recoils, away from my words.

Then his face shutters. He stands and towers over me. Under the moonlight, glaring down at me, he looks angry enough that I think, perhaps he may hit me for my insolence.

But he doesn't, just turns and walks off.

I wait a beat, two and three before I begin to cry again, in earnest.

*

I thought I was quiet but the brothers didn't even sound like they were breathing in the six hours — if I'm estimating correctly, — the plane took to get to their pack.

I'm so tired. If I attempt to move my face in anything resembling a smile, I’ll fall apart at the seams. I don't even feel anything from being in a plane for the first time; not fearful, not nervous, not even drowsy.

After we land, we're driven for about an hour to their pack house. It's a heavy set, two storey building with a garden surrounding it.

There's no fanfare, no welcome, not that I expected it. I go where I'm pointed to which ends up being the most beautiful room I've ever seen with a large bathroom and closet space I can walk into.

But again, I feel nothing. I lay myself on the soft carpet and just stare.

Fuck. Everything.

I slowly become hungry, but it's a feeling I can ignore. But I know I shouldn't. Nobody cares about me here, I'll literally waste away and no one will notice until I'm already dead. Besides, maybe if they give me something with flavor or spice, I'll feel something, maybe even better.

I need to go take permission from my betrothed as well as have him tell me what is expected of me. The sooner the better.

I wander around for a long time, head down, passing scurrying feet that have a destination until I gather the courage to ask one.

“Can you. . . Please ,” The girl moves from one foot to another, impatient but kindly listening to me. “The Lycan Prince, please. Where? Where can I find him?”

She gives me directions and hurries off.

That was easier than I thought. She didn't even ask who I am or what I want with him. Do they let just anyone see him?

But then again how many people can hurt him? Not me, that's who.

The double doors are tall and menacing. I take a deep breath. This is already curing me of the numbness, I feel a small bundle of fear materializing.

I move to the door, trembling. It's open, by just a crack. So I peek in.

My jaw drops.

This has to be a record or something. Because how is it that I've walked in on two men cheating on me, in two days. Am I cursed? Is the moon goddess punishing me?

Asher is in there, hugging the woman on his lap, her long blonde hair spread on the wide couch as he kisses her neck.

Only her shoes are off, but his shirt is pushed up so she can touch his skin. It seems she just arrived so they haven't had time to finish getting undressed.

“Oh Cecilia love,” he groans deep, right on cue to take a deep, premium stab at my heart.

Ouch. I can feel it again.