Mate 10 - Rejection

Sage

The candlelight flickered in my chambers, its glow barely keeping the darkness at bay.

I sat by the window, hugging my knees as the empire slept around me.

I should be happy, shouldn’t I? The oracle had spoken—I had a fated mate, a destiny sealed by the goddess. But all I could think about was how Damien looked at me earlier today.

Cold. Detached. Unmoved.

When our eyes met, I had waited for something to happen: a spark, a pull, an undeniable force binding us together. But there had been nothing.

Not even the faintest flicker of connection.

A dull ache settled in my chest, heavier than before.

I had spent my whole life wondering about the man fate would choose for me. I had imagined what it would feel like to meet him, how he would look at me with wonder, devotion, and the same longing I had always heard about in stories.

But the reality was cruel.

Damien did not look at me with awe. He barely looked at me at all.

I squeezed my eyes shut, resting my forehead against my knees.

Would he reject me?

The thought sent a chill down my spine. A rejection would be a public disgrace, a humiliation I could never recover from. Besides, my father would not overlook my failure.

And what if it wasn’t just rejection? What if this was something worse?

What if Damien—my fated mate—felt absolutely nothing for me?

“Give your purity,” my father's advice echoed repeatedly in my mind. Was that the only way to secure the alliance and our marking?

The night stretched on, long and suffocating. And sleep never came.

By morning, exhaustion clung to me like a ghost.

The golden light of dawn filtered through the high windows, casting a warm glow over the lavish feast before the royal family. The scent of spiced meats, fresh bread, and fragrant tea wafted through the air, yet I barely noticed. The weight of expectation sat heavily on my chest, suffocating. I forced myself to sit tall, though exhaustion gnawed at my bones. I felt like a ghost in my skin.

The elder’s voice rang through the hall, sharp and triumphant.

“Crown Prince Alpha Damien and Gamma Greyson have returned!”

Polite applause followed, but Sage’s attention was locked on Damien. He sat rigidly beside Greyson, his expression unreadable. No triumph, no satisfaction—just cold detachment. His dark tunic was still dusted with battle remnants, his blue eyes distant, as if he were entirely elsewhere.

Greyson, however, smirked as he leaned back lazily, fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair. “If you ask me, those creatures were hardly worth the trouble. But Damien insisted we eliminate every last one.”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the room. Some of the elders nodded in approval, while others exchanged wary glances. Even the most seasoned warriors did not speak lightly of war, yet Greyson spoke as if it had been nothing more than a tiresome chore.

The emperor, his gaze sharp, nodded approvingly. “A true warrior of our empire.”

Then came the words that made my heart lurch.

Elder Hedwigh said, “With his return, the first marking will occur in three days.”

The air grew thick with unspoken tension. The scraping of cutlery against porcelain ceased. All eyes turned to Damien.

Silence fell.

He neither objected nor agreed. He simply existed in the space between acceptance and apathy.

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. Did he truly feel nothing? Did he not care about the sacred bond fate had chosen for us?

“The marking is still scheduled for next month,” the empress intervened smoothly, her voice as sweet as honey yet sharp as a blade. “Such a sacred ceremony requires proper preparation. Besides, this time should be used to get to know each other.”

My fingers tightened around the fabric of my dress. It was a convenient excuse. I wasn’t deaf—I knew the empress favored Rosana for Damien. She made me realize it every time.

Elder Hedwig, however, remained unfazed. “As Crown Prince Damien is now back, I think we can proceed with the ceremony. It is our duty to ensure that their first marking happens smoothly.”

The emperor exhaled deeply before speaking, his voice firm yet measured. “I also want them to have their first marking, but my son has just returned, and he still has duties to attend to. I kindly ask you, elders, to allow us to properly prepare for the ceremony. Damien—our crown prince—deserves only the grandest of things.”

The elders exchanged glances, murmuring amongst themselves before nodding in agreement. The discussion turned toward finalizing the date and settling for next month.

A knowing hum spread through the table.

The tension hung thick in the air, but Greyson—ever the one to break it—let out a low chuckle.

“Lady Sage,” he said, turning to me with an easy smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

His voice was warm, genuine—starkly contrasting the ice between Damien and me.

“Tell me,” he continued, tilting his head slightly, “what kind of woman will be my future sister-in-law?”

I hesitated.

Was he mocking me? Or was this simple curiosity?

Before I could answer, Damien finally spoke.

“It doesn’t matter.”

His voice was calm, indifferent.

Greyson raised a brow. “Oh? And why is that?”

Damien’s gaze flickered toward me, expression unreadable. “Fate has already decided everything.”

A simple sentence. It was a neutral statement.

But something about the way he said it made my stomach twist.

Was that all I was to him? A decision made by fate? A duty to be fulfilled?

I clenched my fingers beneath the table, forcing my voice to remain steady. “That is true,” I said quietly. “Fate has already decided.”

I didn’t miss the way Damien’s jaw tightened ever so slightly.

Something about my words had unsettled him.

But before I could try to understand why, Greyson chuckled. “Ah, but isn’t that the fun of it? Getting to know the person fate has chosen for you?”

He smiled at me, and for a brief moment, I felt like I could breathe again.

“I look forward to seeing how this all unfolds,” Greyson mused, lifting his goblet. “To fate, then.”

The others followed suit, raising their cups.

Damien did not.

And neither did I.

Instead, I glanced at him one last time, my heart heavy with a realization I had been trying to avoid.

He does not want this.

And maybe . . .  just maybe . . . neither do I.

The conversation shifted, but tension still loomed over the table. The empress took a delicate sip of wine before glancing at us. “Tell me,” she said, voice measured. “When you first met last night, did the bond reveal itself? Have either of you received your marking yet?”

My breath caught. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting. I lowered my gaze and shook my head. “No, Your Majesty. We have not.”

A flicker of something—was it relief?—crossed the empress’s face before she masked it with a thoughtful hum.

Elder Hedwig, ever the traditionalist, leaned forward. “It is not uncommon for marks to appear after the first marking. Fate has its own timing.”

Greyson grinned, mischief dancing in his sharp blue eyes. “What do you think, Damien? Do you feel the bond?”

A hush fell over the table once more. Every gaze turned to Damien, waiting. Expecting.

Damien’s blue eyes met mine. For a moment, I held my breath, hoping—praying—

Nothing. Just silence. Just emptiness.

He said nothing.

A sharp pang struck my chest. The absence of his answer spoke louder than any words could.

The empress exhaled delicately, setting down her goblet with careful precision. “Perhaps it is too soon to expect anything,” she mused, though there was an unmistakable satisfaction in her tone. “These bonds take time, after all.”

My hands curled into fists beneath the table, nails biting into my palms.

Elder Hedwig, however, was not so easily swayed. He leaned forward, peering at Damien with sharp, assessing eyes. “Time is but a fleeting luxury, Your Highness. You understand the weight of this bond, do you not?”

Damien’s gaze remained unreadable. “I understand my duty.”

His words were calm and precise. They sent a shiver down my spine.

Greyson huffed, shaking his head with a smirk. “That’s Damien for you—always bound by duty.”

Laughter rippled through the table, though it lacked warmth.

I forced a small smile, though it felt brittle on my lips. I wanted to speak, to ask him outright what he felt—if he felt anything—but the weight of the court’s gaze held me still.

“Then it is settled,” the emperor declared. “For now, let them spend time together. The bond will reveal itself in due course.”

I barely tasted my food after that. The rest of the meal passed in a blur of idle conversation, but in the spaces between words, I felt the suffocating presence of uncertainty pressing down on me like an unseen force.

When the meal finally ended, and the elders rose to leave, I knew that Damien and I would be forced together whatever happened next.

Even if he did not want me.

After breakfast, the maids entered my chamber with careful steps, their hands clasped in front of them as if bracing for my reaction.

“Lady Sage,” one of them said with a gentle bow, “the elders have requested that you and Crown Prince Damien spend the day together. They have arranged an outing to the famous river in Angentha.”

The words sent a ripple of unease through me, but I only nodded, keeping my expression neutral. It wasn't as if I had a choice. I let them dress me in an elaborate gown of deep sapphire embroidered with silver threads that shimmered in the morning light. My hair was styled in delicate waves, and jeweled pins adorned the strands. I had to do my part, even if I felt like a bird trapped in a gilded cage inside.

When I stepped outside, Damien was already waiting near the carriage. His eyes flicked over me once before he turned away as if I were merely another duty he had to endure. The coachman opened the door, and without a word, Damien climbed inside. I inhaled sharply before following, my skirts rustling as I settled into the seat across from him.

The carriage began to move, the gentle rocking only amplifying our silence. I stole a glance at Damien. He sat rigidly, his arms crossed, his jaw set in that unyielding way. The distance between us felt vast, even though our knees nearly touched.

I licked my lips, searching for something to say—anything to shatter this unbearable quiet.

“I’m just curious. You trounced the monsters in the mountain. How . . . how did you defeat the monsters?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain steady.

His gaze flickered to me, unreadable. “We killed them.”

I flinched at his bluntness but pushed forward. “I meant—what was the strategy? How did you fight them?”

His jaw tightened, his patience fraying. "Steel and fire."

I clenched my fists against the fabric of my dress. He wasn’t making this easy. Was this how it was always going to be? A relentless battle of questions met with clipped, unfeeling answers?

“I see,” I murmured, casting my eyes down. My thoughts churned as the carriage rolled on. I had to get him to talk—to open up, even just a little.

I swallowed and forced a casual tone. “And . . . what kind of woman do you like?”

The atmosphere shifted instantly. His gaze snapped to mine, sharp as a blade. “Why?”

I hesitated. There was no graceful way to say it, so I simply smiled and said, “We are fated mates. Shouldn’t I know?”

His eyes locked onto mine, an unsettling storm swirling beneath their surface. The weight of his stare pressed against my skin, making it harder to breathe.

Then he spoke, his voice as cold as ice. “My preferences don’t matter.”

I felt something inside me crack. The answer was final, cutting off any thread of hope I had tried to weave between us.

The silence returned, heavier than before. I turned my gaze to the window, watching the passing trees blur together. If this was what fate had chosen for me, then perhaps fate was more cruel than I ever imagined.

The carriage rocked slightly as it crossed a rough patch of road. I gripped the seat’s edge, my thoughts tangled with frustration and curiosity. My eyes flickered back to Damien. His profile was carved from stone, every line sharp and unmoving.

“Is this how it’s always going to be?” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

His gaze shifted toward me, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”

I exhaled a shaky breath. “This . . . this emptiness between us. This distance.”

His eyes darkened, his fingers twitching slightly before he clenched them into a fist. For a moment, I thought he might say anything to soften the edges between us.

But he didn’t. Instead, he looked away, back toward the window, as if I wasn’t even there.

A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Fine. If he wanted to remain a mystery or pretend this bond between us didn’t exist, then so be it. But I wasn’t going to break so easily.

I straightened my posture, lifted my chin, and let the silence stretch between us again. The river awaited, but somehow, it felt like an afterthought compared to the storm raging within the confines of this carriage.

After several moments of quiet, I returned to him, gathering what little courage I had left. “Are you even curious about me?” I asked softly. “Do you want to know anything about the person fate tied you to?”

Damien’s gaze flickered to mine, but there was no warmth. “I already know what I need to.”

His answer stung more than I wanted to admit. “And what is that?”

He held my gaze for a long moment before answering. “That you’re here.”

I swallowed hard, the words settling uncomfortably in my chest. He wasn’t just distant but determined to keep me at arm’s length. But I wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

The journey to the river was eerily silent. Guards escorted us through the dense forest, their heavy boots crunching against the ground. The scent of damp wood and distant rain clung to the air, mingling with the rhythmic rustling of leaves. I kept my gaze low, uncertain if I was grateful or unnerved by the quiet. Even the guards, usually stiff and authoritative, seemed subdued as we reached the wooden dock.

A boat awaited them, gently bobbing on the river's dark surface. One of the guards gave a curt nod, stepping aside to grant them privacy. It was a rare privilege, one I wasn’t sure I wanted.

I stepped in first, carefully seating myself at the far end of the boat. Damien followed, his movements fluid and controlled as he took his place across from mine. The guards didn’t follow; they remained distant, standing like silent sentinels on the shore.

As the boat drifted forward, the gentle rocking did nothing to ease the unease pressing against my chest. I clutched the edge, watching the rippling water beneath us. The river stretched endlessly, its surface shimmering under the fading light. It should have been peaceful. It wasn’t.

“Are you truly fine with this?” Damien’s voice cut through the quiet.

I tensed. I lifted my gaze to meet his, though his face was unreadable. “With what?”

“Being fated to me.”

I hesitated, the weight of the question pressing heavily upon me. “Yes.”

Damien’s eyes searched mine, but whatever he was looking for, he gave no sign of finding it. “I see.”

His indifference stung more than I cared to admit. I dropped my gaze, gripping the wooden bench beneath me.

I swallowed. “And you?”

A pause. Then, “What about me?”

“What do you fear the most?” I asked softly, almost afraid of the answer. “What keeps you awake at night?”

He exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping idly against the side of the boat. “That’s an interesting question.”

Before I could push for more, a sharp crack echoed through the air. A rock struck the side of the boat with force. I barely had time to react before the world tilted. A forceful impact knocked me off balance, and in the next heartbeat, I was falling.

The river swallowed me whole.

Cold. It wrapped around me like a vice, squeezing the breath from my lungs. The shock burned through my veins as I thrashed, reaching for something—anything—but there was nothing to hold onto. The weight of my dress dragged me down, pulling me into the dark abyss.

Above, the blurred image of Damien remained unmoving.

He wasn’t reaching for me. He wasn’t moving at all.

Panic clawed at my chest as I struggled, my limbs growing heavier. My lungs screamed for air, but all I could taste was the bitterness of the river. Darkness crept at the edges of my vision.

Then—arms. Strong, unyielding. I was pulled against a solid chest, the water rushing past me as I was yanked upward.

I gasped, choking as air and water mixed violently in my lungs. Damien’s grip was firm, his warmth searing against my frozen skin.

“You—” I coughed, clinging to him as the boat loomed closer.

His face was inches from me, his eyes unreadable.

He had waited, waited before saving me. I could see it in his gaze.

The realization sent a shiver down my spine; this time, it wasn’t from the cold.

As we reached the nearest hut, our clothes were still dripping with river water. Damien lit a fire, the flames crackling in the dimly lit space. The warmth spread slowly, but it did nothing to ease our tension.

The guards were gone. Slaughtered. We couldn’t return to the palace until reinforcements were sent to find us. We were stranded, alone.

Damien exhaled sharply, pulling off his soaked shirt and tossing it onto a nearby chair. His bare chest gleamed in the firelight, and his defined muscles shifted as he ran a hand through his damp hair.

I swallowed hard. Heat crept up my neck as I turned away, my heart pounding. My face burned, and my hands gripped the fabric of my dress tightly.

But my father’s words echoed in my mind. Give your purity. Secure the alliance.

This was the moment. The right time to do what was expected of me. What I had been ordered to do.

I took a deep breath and slowly began undoing the ties of my gown.

Damien’s blue eyes darkened as he watched me. The air grew thick between us, the weight of his gaze searing against my exposed skin. He said nothing, only observed as the fabric slipped from my shoulders and pooled at my feet.

Then, in a blur of movement, he was in front of me, gripping my wrist and pushing onto the bed.

I gasped, my breath hitching as the heat of his body pressed against mine.

“Are you seducing me?” His voice was dangerously low, a growl beneath the surface.

I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t breathe. The space between us was suffocating.

His fingers brushed my throat, lingering, testing. “You’re fragile,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I could break you with a single touch.”

My heart pounded violently against my ribs. Heat curled in my stomach, skin tingling where his fingertips lingered.

“Is this what you want?” His voice hardened. “To trap me? To force me to accept you?”

A lump formed in my throat. “I—”

“Who told you to do this?” His grip tightened, but only for a moment before he let go, shoving himself away from me.

Silence stretched between us. Then, he turned away, running a hand through his hair as if trying to rid himself of the moment.

“I don’t want to mark you as my mate.”

The words struck like a dagger to my chest.

Tears welled in my eyes. “Why?”

He exhaled sharply, his back still to me. His voice was colder this time, harsher. “Because I love someone else.”

My breath hitched. The firelight flickered across his silhouette, casting shadows that felt colder than the night outside. My fingers trembled as I clutched the sheets beneath me as if they could anchor me against the storm unraveling within.

A strangled sob tore from my throat. “Damien, please . . . .”

He didn’t turn around. Didn’t look at me. “Dress up. You’ll catch a cold.” His voice was emotionless, distant. “And the elders will question the strength of the Angentha if their princess falls ill.”

A sharp laugh, bitter and broken, escaped my lips. “Is that all I am to you? A burden?”

His shoulders tensed, but he said nothing. Instead, he strode toward the door and yanked it open, stepping into the freezing night air without a backward glance.

As the door slammed shut behind him, I crumpled onto the bed, my body wracked with silent cries. The fire crackled beside me, but I felt nothing but the ice settling in my bones.

I had known rejection before—but not like this.

Not from him.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, hot and unrelenting. My body shook with every breathless sob, my chest aching as if it might shatter. I pressed a trembling hand against my lips, biting back the sound of my heartbreak.

Fate had chosen. But Damien had not.

And now, I was left alone with nothing but the echo of his absence, a hollow space where hope once resided.