I Reject You, Mate.

9. You Don't Own Me

When I was four, I met Rune the first time. His father had brought him to finalize the agreement between our families. I was betrothed to him that day.

I had been fascinated first by his hair. They were strands of moonlight. His skin was as pale as his hair. His eyes were magical. He had an aura unlike anything I had encountered. There had been darkness. There had been mystery. There had been pain.

I wanted to know more. I wanted to fix what I had thought was broken.

He belonged with me, I had thought to myself every time we met. I didn't think there was any woman in Lycanthia who could have taken my place by his side. I was the fairest, from a powerful family of distant royals.

Growing up, I held onto that certainty. Rune and I were going to get mated as soon as we were done at the Academy. I had stayed chaste. I had turned down advances. It was a constant in my life, the belief that one day I would be his Erasthai and rule as his Queen.

Rune had been a hard book to read. While he showed signs of caring for me, he would never touch me in the way a betrothed should. Kiss me. He would rather frolick with other women than me, his betrothed. I had never caught him in the act, but he'd smelled of perfume and s*x whenever I visited.

I didn't think much of it. He was mine, regardless of who he spent his nights with. I convinced myself that it was absolutely normal for a growing male to *explore*.

But patience was never my virtue. One night, after he returned from a solstice celebration in Wolvendom, my patience wore thin. He reeked of wolf, alcohol and c*m.

I was hurt and exhausted and I couldn't take it anymore. I sought him out that night. He had been drunk out of his mind and I... I am not proud of what I did. Laying with him in that state.

It was my first time with a man. And I'd hated it. He kissed me, calling me by another woman's name, and the pain I felt was soul-crushing. But I stayed. It was the first time I had seen what truly lurked under Rune's skin.

His eyes had turned dark, and his fingers had encircled my throat, squeezing. A little harder, and he might have snapped my neck. But he'd caught himself, and pulled out of me, horror stricken on his face. He'd began to apologize but I hadn't waited for it.

I'd run from him.

From that moment, everything spiraled downward.

"Hey."

I look up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. The man before me smiles, adjusting his bag and offering his hand. "Hi, I'm Gary."

My eyes droop to his outstretched hand. I don't take it. I'm in a terrible mood and I'm pretty sure the last thing I need right now is...this.

"O-kay," he says, laughing nervously as he takes his hand back, driving it through his hair. "Not much of a talker are you?"

I'm not. Especially not on a day when I got kissed so good, my soul nearly erupted from my body.

I still feel tingles on my lips, and my inner muscles clench at the thought of his tongue driving into my mouth. Reporting back to work tomorrow after what happened has me squirming. I have no idea how to handle this.

I turn to leave, but the human stops me, holding on to my wrist. I tilt my head, observing him with the same intensity that a hunter observes his prey before killing it.

He pulls back almost immediately, taking the hint. "Sorry. I just...I watched you through the entire period--Right. s**t. That makes me sound like a stalker. I just wanted to say...uhm...the drawing is beautiful."

I pause, blinking. "What?"

He points at my notepad. I lift it, eyes widening as I stare at it. I hadn't realized that I'd sketched a turned lycan. My strokes are wild and angry, and the sketched lycan looks just as angry as I felt when I'd arrive ten minutes late to my first class.

"What is it?" He asks.

I lock the screen of the pad and shove it into my bag. "Nothing."

"Do you live around here?"

"What do you want? Coffee? To hang? A couple of drinks and a quickie after? I'd advice you get to the point."

He adjusts his glasses so that it perches on his nose, and I get a better view of his eyes. Black and clear. No shadows or cunning. Blatant honesty stares back at me. "I considered coffee, but it would be a ridiculous exchange for the time of a woman as striking as you. Allow me the privilege of taking you on a date, a time and place of your choosing. We talk about nothing and everything, and I take you home after. That is all."

*No* is at the tip of my tongue, but I find myself hesitating.

This morning with Mr. Winchester proved beyond doubt that I need to stay away from him. I need my head elsewhere. A distraction would help, however long it might last for.

And the human male isn't terrible looking.

"Sure."

His eyes brighten with pleasant surprise. Then he laughs, a dimple appearing in his left cheek. "Great! Ah...Thank you! Will you--"

I hand him my phone and he puts in his number before handing it back to me. "I will text you later, uh..."

"Gary," he interjects, smile widening.

I smile a little before walking past the row of empty chairs and desks.

Sure enough, Mr. Winchester is waiting for me in the parking lot.

I ignore him and take the bus.

*************

We fix the date for the next Wednesday.

I let it become the one thing I look forward to every day, my motivation to get through each and every shitty day at the office. I don't speak to Mr. Winchester unless needed, and he doesn't speak to me either. He nonchalantly places heaps of files on my desk with a single command.

*Sort these out.*

I got a pair of headphones. They help to keep out the sound of his voice from my ears, as well as the moans of whichever new female he is kissing.

He does it to get to me and the greatest comeback is acting numb to it all.

"I am done with the reports, and planning your schedule," I say, handing Mr. Winchester his tablet. "I would like to get off work early today."

He drops the tab without looking at it and leans back in his chair as he glances up at me. "Why?"

"I have something to attend to."

"What is it?"

"I have a date," I answer in a bland voice.

He sits up in his chair. "With whom?"

I frown. "That hardly concerns you."

Something fleeting crosses his eyes, but it is gone before I can detect what it is. "It does. Your work contract states--"

"I never signed any contract--"

"--that your workday ends at 11 pm. It's only 5--"

"--and I've completed all the tasks you assigned me."

"--pm. You still have six hours left. I can't grant you early leave without a valid reason."

*Cool it, Gin. Calm the f**k down. He's trying to rile you up. Don't give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose it.* "I have a date. With whom is irrelevant and personal. I have no desire to share it. You cannot force me to disclose such information. It's not in your precious *contract*."

"Who are you going out with?"

His voice is soft, but it strikes a chord within me that makes me want to tell him. I feel my will turning to mush and my lips parting to spill all I know of Gary.

Hot, blinding anger cleaves the pressure within me in half and I bare my teeth at him. "Don't f*****g pull an aura on me, you stupid pig!"

He's mastered the preternatural stillness that comes with being a lycan. It is the only sign of his surprise. That he is unable to get me to do his bidding.

"I--"

"--don't f*****g care what you have to say. Boundaries! You respect them or I f*****g leave! You behave like a rotten cunt with no values or decency. Was your mother not around to teach you manners?"

"Well, she died before she could."

I should stop. I really should stop and ask what happened, but I'm frustrated and exhausted, tired of his antics and disgusting behaviour. "That doesn't give you the right to be a bastard."

One moment, he is in the chair, and the next, he is standing nose-to-nose with me, breathing laboured. "Do not talk down to me, Ginevra."

"You don't get to call me that," I mutter, back ramrod straight. I do not yield a step back, not even with the heat rolling off of him.

"You let a human male touch you and I'll snap his f*****g neck, cut out his heart and feed it back to him."

My answering smile is sardonic. "Oh, he'll touch me, and maybe I'll let him get a taste of what you never will."

"You are my mate--"

My chuckle is bitter and merciless. "I thought we'd established something in this little arrangement of ours." I poke his chest with a long, crimson nail. "You don't own me."