The Mate That Wasn't Mine novel Chapter 109

TESSA POV

I have never woken up with a hangover before. A thudding sensation so grim not even Maxim’s sympathetic kisses to my forehead help.

“Water and sleep darling,” he grins. “I’ve got to take Remy somewhere for a few hours.”

“I feel awful,” I groaned, reaching out for his hand pathetically.

“You haven’t really drunk before?”

“No…and now I can’t remember last night.”

“Keep resting, it will come back to you,” sitting next to me on my side of the bed, buttoning up a sleek black shirt.

I followed his gaze down to my nightgown on the floor. My charming mate was absolutely right.

Because now I remember being completely naked, throwing that nightgown at his face.

No…no that’s not it. I used the material to wrap it around the back of his neck and pull him to me. Then I…oh shit did I blindfald him with my nightgown?

“OH GODDESS NO!” I cringe into the pillow slammed upon my face. Maxim chuckles, stroking my hair. “For the record, it felt fucking unreal.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“No. You’re fascinating. I’ll be back soon.” Picking up my discarded nightgown he lays it next to me. “Hmm. Maybe I’ll be the one blindfolding you, this afternoon?”

As much as that thought had my thighs pressing together, the race was on to piece together why I tasted bitter strawberries and had a head like a train

crash.

I knew the basics.

Celebrating Allettes win saw the entire pack start a riotous party, the sort Ravenbow had never seen before. Buoyed by cheers and sunny joy, Alpha Remy insisted barrels of beer and wine were opened and enjoyed.

His fathers private stocks were drained by returning soldiers and exhausted first–years. Maxim helped to tap the barrels and set them pouring, insisting it counted as him helping to set up the blade competition, despite Kai and Silas vehemently disagreeing.

Initially stood aside, leaning against the Packhouse wall, watching Maxim work. Black shirt, sleeves rolled up, his thick thighs steadying barrels. When his brown locks flopped down over his forehead, I couldn’t hear a word anyone else might be trying to say. Watching him was simply too addictive.

Only for those tigerish eyes to keep flitting to mine. Followed by a knowing smile, one seductive enough to make my knees tremble.

Stood at the train station all those months ago, I had been running from one existence, waiting for another to begin. I’d hoped, at best, to fit in. To

survive.

I’d never dared hope to be this happy.

Quietly, I watched Wardens, Generals, all the way down to the ex–healers who usually stayed hidden in the background. All were encouraged to celebrate.

Allette’s sensational victory was the catalyst for something bigger.

Under the lanterns and chandeliers of the vaulted packhouse dining room, there was a true sense of change.

Rey swung a laughing, white–dress wearing Hazel around for a couple of dances. Then, arms folded across his chest, he hid against a thick

Chapter 109

column. The Alpha looked more at ease on the balcony making proclamations than mixing with the general population.

Watching the fun, not always daring enough to leap into the heart of it. Perhaps that is the requirements of his role. Is an Alpha allowed to have fun.

I did not have a chance to ponder my own shyness, for Maxim found me, sneaking up behind. Wrapping his huge arms around me, his smiling lips found. the nape of my neck. The tingling sensation left my head tipping back, eyes closing.

“My gorgeous little Pagano,” he murmured softly, his scent mixed in with the fruity beer and wine we had both been enjoying. “Why are you trying to hide when you’re the brightest thing in here?”

“Oh no, that’s you. All you,” I insist, leaning back, enjoying the sensation of his hard chest.

“I’m the one in black. All grumpy and scowling. I belong in the shadows. Whereas you…you’re glowing. Fucking glowing tonight Tess. Can’t stop looking your way. Always looking for you.”

“Should you not be saying these sweet things to Warden Marshall too then? We pretty much match in our white and gray.” I joke, looking down at my dress, it’s gray and white drapery finally feeling something like normal.

“Believe me I tried, the fucker didn’t even let me do this to him,” he rasped before nipping my neck softly until I squeaked.

He started chuckling against me, his beard rubs against my bare skin which only sets me giggling, trying to resist his tight hold.

I spin myself around to face him and kiss him fiercely. He beings guiding me backwards, towards the dancing area. The huge dining tables had been tucked to the sides for a night, creating a makeshift stone dance floor underneath the blood–red drapes and hanging chandeliers.

Maxim, I can recall with my hungover head, was the essence of deviance. His black shirt unbuttoned at the top, his chest visible, the edges of my bite just tempting me.

Instead he asked, “So, my Pagano, are you a dancer?”

“I bet you are,” I replied, getting a dramatic twirl in reply. When he had me facing the right way again, he grinned. “That’s it. I’ve just got one good move.”

“It’s a very good move,” I answer with a beaming smile.

“Then have another,” spinning me until I began to regret my earlier drinks but too busy giggling to protest. I’m finally starting to learn how not to care who is watching. That it is okay to simply exist in a moment and enjoy it,

There will surely be people who will always believe I am a rebel deep down. But it simply doesn’t matter. Not when my dress flares outwards as I twirled again. Maxim’s golden eyes are only ever on me, always shining with pride.

Puffing out his chest and pretending to know how to tango he makes his friends laugh whilst making me feel like the most wanted woman in the room.

Then we had to move as the different districts began their own competition. Those originally brought up in the mines, most of them thick, sturdy infantry. and archery men began a chest slapping, thigh squatting routine with lots of stamping.

Those from the industrial zone, a lot of the healer women and male blade wielders showed a quicker, intricate dance. Weaving in and out of each other in lines, squares and circles.

I don’t really know the farming dances. I imagine Malva did. I recall a lot of kicking up high in the air, arms linking in different formatons from the bonfire nights I did get to watch as a child.

It certainly wasn’t something I got to take part in. But Maxim did not spring up to join in either. His arm around my shoulder, we each held sharing a few silent moments of thought.

s of wine,

Allette, the hero of the day, drank too. Well, she insisted it was wine but I helped, swapping her glasses for apple juice and generously drinking her alcoholic portion myself.

She stood with various Wardens, Hazel, and Vigo over the course of the night. I kept glancing her way, worrying about what the future holds for her and wr prodigious talent.

Chapter 109

By two in the morning, my ‘helping‘ had forced my wolf to lose the ability to keep me sober.

“You’re a good friend,” she grinned as I took another glass from her. “YOU…are a champion!” I had replied. I think it was at that point Allette began

looking after me.

Walking me arm in arm to a bench, my smile got sillier. Behind us Kai, Silas and Maxim were getting a tug of war going across the full length of the dining hall. Even more benches were shoved to the side to clear the space needed in the hall.

Every male chest was puffed out. Ready to impress someone in the crowd of twittering women. Maxim was no different, when he took up the front of his line, gripping the rope, his gaze found mine raising his eyebrow, the scar down his face completely inconsequential. His glimmering confidence erases any impact a mere scar could offer.

“LINE UP!” he bellowed.

Beers quickly sunk, sides were chosen. Warden Marshall took the opposite end to Maxim with relish, both of them glaring with competitive, yet drunken

gestures.

Alpha Remy was the official judge, everyone politely arguing his powerful shape was an unfair advantage. Even Vigo took a position on Maxim’s side of the line, getting a thumbs up and a smile from me.

People cheered around us as Allette nudged me, her head ducking low enough for her dark hair to form a veil. Her silk scarf had been commandeered by Hazel. She wanted to start the tug of war with dramatic flair. Of course.

Allette whispered. “You know nothing bad will happen if I have a drink? We’re wolves? It’s just a human superstition.”

“I. AM. ASSISTING. YOU!” I replied haughtily. Probably more drunkenly than haughtily, but the intention was there. But the strawberry wine was delicious.

Allette put her head in her hands when I started pointing at her silently, still sipping wine. I screamed “GO ON MAXIM!”

I lie in bed smiling at the memory. But I can’t remember how the tug of war went. Not properly. I know Maxim lost, causing me to wrap my arms around him and kiss his cheeks.