After a while, she finally pulls back a little and says “Talk to me” gently, like she always does when I’m upset.
“He doesn’t want me, mom.” I whisper to her and admitting it aloud to her, and myself, gives me a physical pain in my chest. "I knew that he wouldn't, but it hurts."
“You don’t know that. Feelings are complicated.” she says, brushing my hair back from my face.
“He doesn’t though, and he’s stuck with me. I think just being rejected would be better. I’ll always be the mate he’s stuck with.” and she just lays there, listening to me, letting me talk through all my feelings and the thoughts running through my head.
“He knew, mom. For 4 years he KNEW I was his mate, and he knew I wasn’t good enough. He said he didn’t think I’d be a good queen, that he searched for someone w
