The Mate That Wasn't Mine novel Chapter 29

Chapter 29

MAXIM POV

8

When I left Tessa I congratulated myself. No nerves shown. No way for her to tell I am equally shitting a brick about the possibility of our ruse faffing to pieces.

With my arm around her I studied all the other couples around us, nuzzling together, sharing a private moment of sadness. Eyes are watering, chests are heaving with sighs. “But we love each other,” croons across the courtyard. “We’re mates, how could they doubt us?”

“Don’t worry bumblebee.”

“We’re going to be fine, sunflower.”

“I’ve got you snugglebutt.”

Revolting. That’s not us.

She forbade me the only name that really sprang to mind anyway. We don’t understand each other. I cannot read her moods just as she cannot understand my acts of random idiocy.

I’ll admit there is something. A sizzling, confusing little melting of the brain around her calm brown eyes and wild flames of hair. But nothing much.

My wolf insists I am a liar.

Especially when I keep getting reprimanded in sparring. My gaze diverted to the distant mountainside. I studied the horizon, hoping she wasn’t worrying too much. That Vigo had better not even think of looking her way today.

“Heads up!”

With a quick shake I focus on the lumpen first year who is attempting to tackle me. Two weeks in and they still haven’t learned anything. Oaf number one charges forward, his right fist already clenched, shoulder dropping giving away his intentions. It’s a simple, grab flip and immobilising kick to the guts.

“Don’t show off Pagano,” Warden Marshall tuts from his clipboard.

“Would if I could,” I answer back.

“Fine. Jock and Blane, two of you. Work together. Bout starts in five–four–three…”

“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter, squatting into my thighs, amusement obvious in Marshall’s watery blue eyes. There is no opportunity to ask him about the interview. About whether Donlon is in a relationship with Luna Sabrina or if what I witnessed was a one–time mistake that we can all scrub from our

brains.

Finally I am pummelled into the ground, covered in brown dust. Marshall had to bump it up to three guys though. So I kept my natural smugness intact. Grinning merrily as we left the field, waving to Kai, Silas and Allette who walked on by.

“Good luck,” Allette shouts although her knowing little smirk is anything but genuine.

Meanwhile, the three chumps that are getting cut were desolate. Head in hands, heaving shoulders. The usual. But they had two weeks to change and improve. None of them ever approached Beta’s after training and asked for help. Tessa stayed out until the early hours practicing. It paid off.

Same for Irene, I don’t dislike the girl but why the fuck is she still making artsy, delicate little metal weavings instead of head–removing, ball–slashing. weapons? It’s self–sabotage.

My sympathy is reserved for those who deserve it.

Which until five minutes ago, included Tessa.

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Chapter 29

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Showering, freshening up ready to grab her I was already thinking about how many kisses I might be able to sneak in on the walk up. More importantly, how many we’ll share afterwards. Celebrations have a way of making people act a little crazy.

Until I walked in on them.

Hearing the worthy Briggs, his hands upon hers, insisting that he is her friend. That Tessa doesn’t need me. Only for Tessa to reply that she will be okay?

Am I something she is having to endure?

That churning, heated, swirl of emotion doesn’t just ignite, it roars through the pit of my stomach. I despise being fooled. The purpose of an assassin is to have the upper hand at all times.

At least they’re gazing at each other long enough for me to compose my shitty little retort.

Then I walk out. Fuck the pair of them. Maybe Donlon was right.

A fake mate can be fake rejected just as easily. Except the bite is meant to remain forever and I’d be screwed within a fortnight my wolf grumbles.

Striding with purpose towards the packhouse, I hear the door clattering. “Maxim, wait!” Tessa cries, jogging to catch up. Not happening.

She can complain to Briggs about me later.

“We’re going to be late,” is all I can snap back.

“We need to talk.”

“We really fucking don’t.”

“What did you hear? Maxim please-” her small hand grabbing for mine. I flinch before letting her take it. We are within sight of the packhouse after all. My nose curls at her orange scent invading my senses.

I don’t want it. Any of it.

When her fingers keep trying to take mine all I can see is her and Briggs. Her copper hair shining in the shards of light steali ross the stone floor. Him, strong and tall, separated only by flimsy shutters. The hero.

So I grab her fingers away from mine and place her hand on my shirt,covered forearm instead. It doesn’t stop her tugging at me. Trying to make me turn

around.

“Please. Please, I can’t do this if you’re angry at me.” her long fiery hair hanging about her face is luscious waves that I might have been tempted to place behind her ear. Instead I stamp along the gravel, focused on the crunching sound.

“Everyone is watching, mate,” grunts out of my mouth. Her soulful brown eyes wince at my coldness. “I’m angry at myself. Not you. Now move.”

-It’s a lie but I could do without being shoved off a cliff and murdered before curfew. So I need to drag this sham through the next half hour.

We have to enter the packhouse and take a different corridor this time. Away from the dining hall and instead climb a huge stone staircase towards one of the dark, wood panelled parlour rooms Alpha Hale likes to conduct meetings in.

Every window has deep red and pink glasswork, casting its own morbid shadow down the corridor all the way to our feet. It was in one of those claustrophobic little rooms I reported back from my first assassins mission. The one where Alpha Hale merely grunted.

Warden Kendrick, his long, wide throat scar as vivid as ever points to a row of chairs outside the room. Checking his watch he is unimpressed. “You’re up

next. Wait here.”

Sitting together, Tessa remains close enough for her orange scent to mock me..

Closing my eyes I allow my head to tilt back. The tones of Roman and Victoria come through. Third years. Block & residents. A blade wielder and a healer Both with long ashy blonde hair and green eyes. Their close resemblance always gave me sibling vibes but Kai pointed out that would be offending the

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Chapter 29

Goddess.

“He’s everything to me! Since the moment the bond struck it’s just felt right.”

“What if I asked you to leave here?” Alpha Hale asks, his powerful voice rendering walls pointless.

Roman speaks up. “As long as we were together I would happily abide by any of my Alpha’s commands.”

That wasn’t a good answer. I grimace at the sound of Alpha Hale’s voice rising a few decibels. I bet he’s stood up from his desk to really shit Roman up. “And if you were apart? If I sent you to the Elven front?”

“I……I would serve. I would be loyal! Of course! That’s not what I was saying,” his panicked voice bumbles through. This is a waste of time. That pair of lovebirds have been inseparable for well over a year.

“Maxim…” Tessa whispers, her hand continuing to try and find mine. “What you heard, what you think you saw”

“Can wait,” I snap.

Already sad, her voice drops to a basic whimper, her brown eyes brimming with tears. “Irene is missing. She skipped scent–tracing.”

Callously I fold my arms and reply. “I could not give a fuck about Irene right now,” ignoring the little kernel of concern my chest produces.

Tessa leans forward, elbows on her knees, head in her hands. I watch a shudder roll down her spine. Not quite sure of myself, I slowly stroke down her coppery hair, my fingertips feeling down her spine and whisper the truth. “I didn’t mean that.”

The door slams open, sending a cold breeze whipping down the stone corridor. A teary–eyed Roman and Victoria stumble past. His arm around her, treasuring her, kissing her head and whispering how they never had a thing to worry about.

Both their bites are visible on their collarbones. The crafty fuckers had made sure to wear uniforms that showed those wounds off. If I do that now I look like a desperate copy.

It’s Warden Marshall. Of course. My day continues to slide into oblivion.

“Pagano. Darnell. You’re up.”

Tessa stands up too quickly, her already flushed face growing redder by the second. I quickly wrap my arm around her unsteady waist. “She’s not eaten after scent–tracing. We normally go straight there, sorry.”

In my mind that’s points scored. Caring, nice behaviour. Wohoo for me.