The Lycan King's Fated Mate

Chapter 11 - Thee Prince

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Eli

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“I opened the door for you." From his plate, Stormweaver’s eyes pierce through mine as he calmly repeats himself. But I heard him. I’m asking him how when the person didn’t look like him. I tell him that, and he pauses for a moment and looks up at me again. “Appearances can deceive, Eli. You’ll understand soon,” he says, and his cryptic response only deepens my suspicion, but before I can press him further, he suggests I eat and drink, adding that I traveled a long way and that I need rest.

I grab the glass and drink, now knowing without a doubt that there’s something in this wine. But I have no choice. As he said, I trust the process or leave, and leaving is not an option. I’m the last one left in my family now. I have to be strong so I can survive whatever comes my way and get my brother’s head back. I don’t eat, though; I can’t stomach anything. I only sit in silence so he can eat in peace.

With one last sip, I finish the wine and I expect him to pour me another glass as he looks at me, noticing that it’s finished, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gets to his feet.

“Come, let me show you to your room,” he says, and I rise from my seat, the unease lingering as I trail behind him. The house is modern, but I can clearly feel the otherworldly energy thick in the air. We enter the room and it looks like a normal room with a bed and everything. It even has a gigantic mirror covering the side of the wall and it’s gray. There’s also a shelf with a lot of books on it.

“If there’s anything you need, let me know. There is an extra blanket in the wardrobe. It might get cold without your wolf,” he says, and I thank him and bid him good night. I walk over to the bed and plop down, placing my two bags in front of me as I try to call out to Orpheus, even though I know I can’t feel him. But there’s nothing.

I lie on my back and take out my phone to call Malia and tell her I’ve arrived. I make the call, but it says no service. What the hell kind of place is this? I can’t even make calls inside here.

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Midnight

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Author's PoV

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The room is eerily silent as the moon shines through the window, casting an eerie glow on the figure shrouded in darkness standing over Eli.

While wearing a hooded cloak that hides his face, Stormweaver stands in the middle of a thick cloud of black smoke that appears to be moving and swirling on its own. He raises the knife, his dark robes blending in with the shadows as his piercing eyes glow a bright red, illuminating the room. But at that moment, Eli’s breathing changes, and Stormweaver’s conflict paralyzes him, causing him to vanish through the wall, leaving the room empty in a flash.

Storming onto his rooftop, his frustration is palpable, his indecisiveness throwing everything off balance, and he can feel the anger boiling within him as he slams the door open, causing the walls to shake.

He has been up all night trying to accomplish something that typically takes him only seconds. He’s never had any problems seeing inside someone’s head before, but he can’t seem to get a grip on Eli’s mind.

Despite his attempts, he has been faced with a complete roadblock. It’s as if some kind of invisible barrier protects Eli’s thoughts or he’s immune to his powers. Usually, the wine does the trick, and it’s never failed him until tonight.

“Why can’t I read him?” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, trying to make sense of the situation. “I need to figure this out,” he adds, sitting next to the dark liquid again and deciding to give it one last try.

He focuses his energy and concentration, but he’s still not getting through. The wine he forced upon Eli at dinner was no wine but the potion he uses to see inside people’s heads. People omit their darkest secrets, so he prefers peeking into their brains than trusting their word. But with Eli, for some frustrating reason, it’s not working.

Feeling defeated for now, he gets to his feet and exits the room. He will have to come back later. For now, he needs to go feed his son. He heads to the green room, where he cooks all his potions and takes what he needs before heading to the kitchen and quickly preparing his son something to eat.

He can’t eat solids, so he quickly makes him his favorite soup and heads out when he’s done. It’s 12:30 a.m., and he’s usually done by now, but the unforeseen hiccup messed up his schedule. Eli was out by 10 p.m., and since then, he’s been trying to read him.

With a slight movement of his fingers, the door opens, and he enters, making sure it is closed again before proceeding inside.

His son asks him how it’s going, his wheezing breath breaking his heart as it indicates there isn’t a lot of time left. He needs to hurry, or he will lose him too. Stormweaver settles on the bed next to him and tells him it’s going well, not wanting to worry him; having to watch his body slowly decay is enough.

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Clio

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“Mm!” I groan, opening my eyes before turning to my side, my head heavy, but I frown, taking in my surroundings and realizing this is not my room. Last night’s events come crashing back, but they are fuzzy and I abruptly sit up on the bed before clutching the sheets to my chest.

“Where am I?” I whisper, looking next to me, seeing a bouquet of roses out of the corner of my eye. There’s a bottle of water and some Advil. I take the water and throw down the pills, grateful as my head aches. I can’t believe I did that—I just gave myself to a stranger. More blood rushes to my cheeks, and I clear my throat, beginning to feel hot all over again.

“Get a grip, Clio Lockwood,” I reprimand myself as a chilly feeling of uncertainty and regret creeps in. A part of me is glad he’s not here to watch me shrink with shame, even though it's sad to wake up alone. What the hell happened to me? Why was I like that? What does this even mean for me?

I know it was just a one-night stand, and even though I’ve never had one, I’m mature enough to handle it, I think. But he’s not just some random guy. He’s my boss’s brother, which means we will see each other again. I don’t want things to be awkward at work.

How am I even going to face Christos? This is why I don’t touch alcohol anymore. It makes me stupid. I could contain my feelings just fine when I was sober. I make my way to the bathroom as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

But as I grab the bathroom door, I pause peeking underneath the sheet I’ve wrapped myself in, checking if I’m really naked, even though I know I am. But I don’t feel any different. Shouldn’t I feel like I did something? Or did we not go all the way?

I try to remember, but only fragments of my memory return. Did I pass out? Is that why, or is he that smooth? I sit and relieve myself while looking around in the silver bathroom and everything here screams money.

When I’m done, I walk to the mirror, but my eyes widen, seeing all the hickeys. My hand slowly trails down my neck, and I trace my fingers over them, more confused now as the evidence of our passionate night stares me in the face.

A part of me was thinking maybe I imagined everything about us. I was suspecting he put me to bed, left, and went back to Athena. Why would he make out with me and not go all the way? “Did I turn him off?” I whisper, raising my arms to inspect my underarms. I knew I should have waxed.

After inspecting myself and making myself feel more crapy, I turn the fossil and wash my face before exiting the room. I have to get out of here.

I walk over to the bed while looking around for my clothes, but stop when I look at the flowers and pick them up. I bring them to my nose, and a warm feeling spreads across my chest as I do, even though it shouldn’t. I’m such a mess.

I should be ashamed for lusting after a man who’s clearly not in my league, judging by this place. The thought causes me to place the bouquet down and head to the sofa, where I spot my clothes, but just then, there’s a knock on the door, and I scream, startled, before whispering a shaky “Enter,” not sure what to expect.

The door clicks open to reveal a butler-looking man. He enters, pushing a trolley with covered dishes on it and another bouquet, and my stomach growls as the mouthwatering aroma hits my nose. He bids me good morning, and I reply with a raspy voice, clutching the sheets tighter against my chest.

The man asks how I slept, and I tell him I slept well before he introduces himself as Alonso. Alonso says Mr. Drakos asked him to ensure I was comfortable. He asks me to ask him for anything I need. But I doubt I’ll need anything except somewhere to wait for a cab.

I want to get home so I can ask Amara all the questions clogging my brain. What is the deal with that Athena chick? She said Valerio wasn’t seeing anyone. Alonso uncovers the dishes and tells me about the food options, and I salivate, looking at everything, but eating alone would be weird.

Plus, I doubt I can stomach any food right now. I thank him and wonder if this place is a hotel as he makes his way out of the room or if we are still at the friend’s place. I can barely recall last night’s events, so I wouldn’t be surprised if we left. Putting on my clothes, I feel bad about his efforts going to waste, but I can’t be here a minute longer.

After checking if I still have my phone and wallet, I head out, but my eyes widen as I take in the rest of the house after exiting the room. It’s not a hotel, and it’s beautiful. It’s probably where the party was held. I didn’t see the rest of the house yesterday.

Just then, a voice speaks on my left, and I turn my head to find Alonso walking towards me. He asks if I’m leaving, and I tell him I am, guilt hitting me again about the breakfast I didn’t touch. I apologize for not eating, telling him I have urgent business to attend to this morning, and he gives me a soft smile, saying he understands before showing me the way.

I walk with him and take out my phone to request a cab home, but just then, it hits me. Where did my purse come from? My memory is fuzzy, but I could have sworn I left it at the party. Did he go get it? My stomach sinks at that, as it means he went back to the party and Athena. It’s possible that it wasn’t even him who brought my purse. Maybe it was the butler or even Amara. Maybe he left me here and didn’t come back the moment I fell asleep and I spent the night alone.

Alonso’s voice snaps me out of my reverie as he tells me the driver will take me.

A car stops in front of us before I can even respond, and he opens the door for me. I enter, looking around in the luxurious car as I give my address.

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After what feels like forever, we arrive at my place, and he exits the car and opens the door for me. I thank him with the best smile I can muster and bid him a good day. Entering the house, I slip off my heels and make my way to the staircase, but a voice speaks just as I climb the first few stairs.

“Good morning!” Amara chirps with the biggest grin, walking up to me, and I try to match it but fail, bothered by all the questions.

“What’s wrong?”

“Who’s she to him? Who’s Athena?” I ask and see the blood drain from her cheeks. What is she not telling me?

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Amara

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I swallow hard at Clio’s question because, one, I don’t know how to explain the situation to her, and two, it’s not my place. “I thought you said he wasn’t seeing anyone,” she adds, and my heart clenches at the hurt look in her eyes.

“He isn’t,” I start, still unsure what to say. I feel like I owe her since I got involved by telling her he wasn’t seeing anyone. I shouldn’t have done that, but I couldn’t say I didn’t know since she already knew he was Christos’s brother; she would have known I was lying. Now I don’t know what to say.

“Don’t lie to me,” she says and I take her hands, telling her I’m not. She asks why she doesn’t believe me and I tell her I don’t know, praying she stops asking me.

I feel really shity lying to her like this. But Valerio is the one who has to explain to her what’s going on. I can see she’s not convinced. She can tell I’m hiding something. But it’s just what it is—a complicated mess.

My mind trails back to Athena’s face when Valerio didn’t return to the party. She was so confused when Christos told her Valerio had to go because they had just arrived together and she knew he was done for the night. But it wasn’t Christos’s place to tell her. Just as it’s not mine to tell Clio

Christos said I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. He reminded me of Valerio’s responsibility and that no Lycan or royal has ever been mated to a human. But I refuse not to be hopeful. Valerio could have rejected Clio on Thursday when they met. He could have ended it there, but he didn’t. They spent the night together. There’s definitely a reason to be hopeful and get ahead of myself, as he puts it.

“I’m going to go take a shower since you refuse to tell me anything,” Clio says, and I tell her to make it quick because I have questions, making her beet red. I know they didn’t have s*x, but I have to pretend like I don’t since I can’t tell her how I know. Plus, I’m still curious.

She looks back at me and smiles, asking, “What?” Seeing me still standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at her, and I open my mouth to say “nothing,” but the smell of burning meat sends me running to the kitchen. “s**t!” I mutter, getting inside, and I hear her laugh. At least I’ve got her laughing again.

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Christos

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“Here,” I place a glass of whiskey in front of Valerio, and he takes it and throws it back while I take a seat in front of him. I’m worried about him and wish I knew what to say, but I don’t. Valerio called me this morning, freaking out after he spent a night with his mate instead of rejecting her as he should have done. I knew there was a problem when he didn’t come back.

“My heart broke when I followed her outside. I saw what the bond was doing to her and felt her turmoil. I hated myself for what I was about to do, but I was still committed to getting it done. There was no other way. I was about to condemn her to a fate worse than death, but it was our fate. It didn’t matter how shitty I felt or how regretful I was, but when she looked at me, I couldn’t.

She was a mess and didn’t know what was happening, and seeing her like that weakened me. I gave in to the urge to comfort her and lost sight of what was important, and now I’m f****d,” he says, taking his face into his hands, and I place my hand on his shoulder, my heart broken for my brother.

This is a messed-up situation, and I can’t even imagine what he’s going through. I don’t know if I’d be able to be as strong as he has been if I had been forced to marry someone who was not my mate and reject my mate. And now, on top of all that, his mate is human. That has never happened before, and humans are frowned upon.

They are weak, and he isn’t just any royal. He’s thee prince, and when they marry, he’ll be thee king, and she’ll be thee, queen. So, even if he marries her and breaks the promise he made to his father of honoring his wishes, she would never be accepted. Even if his father somehow does, the council would fight it. Her life would be a living hell.

“What are you going to do?”