0: PROLOGUE

The realization hits me like a fast train colliding with a building made of glass. Everything in me feels like it’s fracturing, shattering, rearranging itself into something; an undeniable fact entirely out of my expectation.

Ben is not my mate.

No, and that’s not even the worst of it.

I want to run. I want to turn around and bolt far away from the dark woods; from William Ravenstone; from the truth, but I can’t will myself to move. My heartbeat thunders and disbelief along with something akin to grief twists my throat viciously.

Finally, he turns to look at me, and I see the realization cloud his face just as it had done mine seconds ago.

“You.” He lets out in a breath, thick eyebrows furrowed and sensual lips pulling down into a frown of disgust. The moonlight soaks his dark brown hair as he runs a hand through it, pulling at the strands. When he speaks again, his voice is ragged, almost tortured. “Isabella...”

It’s the second time he has used my name and I feel a delicious shiver run down my spine. My mind screams at me to turn around and leave, but my body doesn’t listen and instead, I take a step closer to him.

“There has to be a mistake.” I manage, finding my voice and hating how chockfull of emotion it sounded.

The parts of the woods surrounding the academy are mostly secluded, so praying for a student to interrupt us is almost futile. Somehow, I’m not sure if it makes me glad or disappointed. A soft breeze rustles the oak trees —all bathed in pure moonlight, and around us crickets chirp. There is the faint hooting of an owl but only my subconscious cares about the environment. All of my senses are trained on him.

William looks tormented as his jaw tightens and he tears his heated gaze away from my tight little black dress. “The moon goddess is rarely ever wrong.” He mutters, balling his fists and closing his eyes, struggling to rein his control back in place.

I knew what he was fighting.

I could feel it too; the simmering attraction, the maddening lust, the devastating need to feel his skin on mine, his lips on me, and our bodies molded into one as we were meant to be; it hung over and clung to us like the fog; heavy, undeniable, wild.

“But why...” I swallow thickly, crossing my arms and blinking rapidly, knowing I had to keep my lips moving if I didn’t want my hands to do the talking. I clear my throat as my gaze trails back to his. “Why would the moon goddess choose... you, as my mate?” I take a big step forward, bringing us almost chest to chest and craning my head back to keep my eyes on him. “Why you, William?” I breathe out, searching his gaze. “We hate each other.”

The air between us feels combustible. I feel combustible. Confusion, desire, annoyance, and excitement swirl inside me all at once. I grip fistfuls of my silky dress to stop myself from reaching out and pulling him to me.

William had turned still as a statue, but his steel grey eyes bore into me like he’s trying to find the secrets buried in the innermost depths of my mind. Slowly, I watch them dilate until his irises were almost inky black. “Isabella, we can’t...”

I need to make sure this isn’t a mistake.

I swallow my trepidation along with my sense of reasoning and reach up to pull his face to mine. William makes a sound of surprise deep in his throat. He recovers fast. Within seconds, one of his hands cups the back of my neck, while the other travels down to the small of my back, pulling me closer, until every part of me is pressed against him.

I feel my knees grow weak, my mind clouding.

His body is lean and hard, the muscles taut like I’d felt them during our combat training, but his lips are soft and gentle; a stark contrast to the intensity of our need. He lazily teases and explores the inside of my mouth as though we had all the time in the world. I couldn’t deny the heat that spread through me, and my usual instincts were silenced by his touch.

I demanded more. I was being weak and pathetic, but I didn’t care.

Then without warning, the intensity heightens. Pure, unadulterated magic simmers between us and it is like adding gasoline to fire. The secret parts of me came alive, tingling, and I gasp against William’s mouth. He hadn’t been hard a moment ago, but now he was, poking my hip. It felt as if we were feeling what the other was feeling, seeing what the other was seeing. His desire swept through me. The sensation was ecstatic and disorienting, and along with it came a flicker of both hope and fear.

I became completely blind with need, and suddenly I was pressed up against a tree. Somewhere in my mind, I knew it was my doing; I’d yanked William towards it so I could use the trunk as leverage.

The rough bark scrapes my spine through the flimsy fabric of my dress as I hop and wrap my legs around his slim waist. I wanted him inside me, moving in me. My fingers fumble for a zipper while his fingers hike my dress higher, leaving trails of heated skin wherever his fevered, eager touch traveled. I begin to grind into him, desperate to relieve the throb building between my thighs. He was so hard that I could feel the heat of him even through the layers of fabric between us.

“Wait.”

I barely register his words —the fog of lust thickened and clung. My fingers rake through his hair as my other hand found his zipper. Just as I did, he was gone. My feet hit the ground and cold, unwelcoming air rushes in the space between us. I make a pathetic sound of protest and open my eyes.

William had put space between us, the distance deliberate. His chest was heaving, his hair tousled and lips deliciously swollen. He keeps his eyes closed, as if looking at me would break his resolve.

“W-why?” I demand, barely able to catch my own breath and trying to blink away the cloud of lust that made everything hazy. Slowly, things sharpened into focus. I felt whiny and angry, like a child who had a toy taken away. Or an addict ready to beg for their next high.

“Your mind is clouded.” He says, running a hand down his face and finally opening his eyes to look at me. “You’re under the influence of the mating magic, and like you said...” His gaze hardens, his invisible, impenetrable wall slipping into place. “We hate each other.”

Now that we weren’t touching, I felt the magic lull, and all my emotions surges to the surface, drowning the rest of it. Heat creeps up my neck and I’m not sure if it is anger or embarrassment. Maybe both. Definitely both. I take one step back, then another, before finally listening to my voice of reason and taking off in a sprint towards House Hera and my dorm room.

Benjamin Truman is not my mate. No, William Ravenstone is, and we both hate each other.