His Lover, My Mate

Twelve: Unknown

"You might be wondering why he wants to see you," Kyla said finally as she led her down the hall of the castle. "He wants to talk to you. You haven't really tried to hear what he wishes to tell you. I hope you open your ears. I promised Rush I won't do anything stupid like punching you or pushing you down the stairs, because I'm not a brat like you. I don't have to hurt you that way. I do, however, have other ways I can ruin your life beyond what's already been ruined."

The look of scorn burned through her. It was a look that stripped through her skin, baring her humiliation to her. Kyla knew everything that happened to her, and she had no sympathy. Just judgement. "Why do you hate me?" Aletha whispered.

"Because you took what's mine," she replied, yanking her down the steps. "You could have done anything else, and I would have been fine with it. But you committed the most unforgivable crime in the Darklands. Do you know what that is?" Her mouth was a harsh snarl. "You stole someone else's mate when you already had one."

Stole someone's mate? Did that mean...? "Is Lucien your..." Aletha began, but knew already when Kyla's body tensed up. Oh no. Dread laced around her. She never considered the possibility of Lucien having a living, breathing mate. She'd always just assumed she was dead, or that he never found her. Lucien always just told her never to worry about his mate. "I...I didn't know."

"I didn't know," Kyla mocked. "Says the bitch who was pampered in the castle and hid from reality. Just fuck you. Not only are you inconsiderate but you are also ignorant. You're revolting inside and out."

Her words hit her stomach hard and it pierced her guts. It made her face burn and tears prick her eyes. She tried to say something, but the harshness of Kyla's words kept ringing through her mind and clouding her thoughts. Her breathing cut short and she was at the edge of breaking down into tears.

"We're here. He suspects you'll feel uncomfortable in the dining hall so he wants to meet you in the study," Kyla announced, throwing open the large wooden doors of his study.

The smell of the ocean invaded her nose, wrapping around her skin and forcing her to acknowledge the male standing in front of the fire, his back to her.

"Have fun," said Kyla before pushing her inside and slamming her door shut. The sound vibrated through her bones, making her cringe. She hated loud sounds. They startled her.

Now it was silent. Silent and cold. She could feel the hairs of her skin rising. An involuntary shiver came over her as she wrapped her arms around herself, watching as his dark form slowly began to turn.

In the dim light of only the fireplace, his shadow was long and black. She only saw the outline of his silhouette at first, revealing a male in his prime. She couldn't see much of the details of him, but she did see how terrifying his figure was. His white shirt was unbuttoned, and she saw only hard muscles. She looked at his face next, and from the flickering light of the hellish red fire, she saw dark hair and those grey eyes that reminded her of a raging storm. His nose was elegant and straight, and his mouth was a light shade of rose that carved like a bow.

"I hope my sister didn't terrify you," his mysterious voice came as made his way toward her, his footsteps very silent. "You see, she's very protective of me." There was blood on his hands as he buttoned up his shirt, leaving stains of red behind. She wondered whose blood it was, which victim met his wrath. He didn't seem to care though. He had a cold indifference to him that chilled her.

On the table beside him, there was food still steaming as if they were freshly made. The warm smell wafted through the air and made her stomach clench with hunger. She hadn't eaten in a while.

He stopped in front of her, smelling like blood and ocean, and held his gaze on her face. She noticed that about him—he was very observant. He calculated his situation before making a move.