The Mate That Wasn't Mine novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Chapter 42

MAXIM POV

Squinting into the sunlight, I reach outwards, finding nothing but cold sheets.

“Tessa?”

Propping myself up, she’s not in the bathroom. My blue shirt lies across her unused pillow. The orange scent of her stunning natural perfume has faded away to just gentle, lingering afternotes.

She’s gone and left. Just like that.

Placing my hand to my temples all I can do is growl a low, pissed “fucking hell,” and sink back into the pillows. My cheeks are the ones burning with embarrassment for a change.

She’s not seriously going to make it a one–night and done thing? After last night?

I’ve said it before, Tessa defies my training. And now, all the knowledge I have about dealing with women might as well be hurled on a bonfire around her

too.

Last night was momentous. A burning of the barricades. She was all mine. A hot, writhing, grabby, squirming mess. She probably won’t remember, but she shouted for me to never let her go. She whimpered and begged for me to stay. To look after her.

Every forbidden thought tumbled from her mouth. Just like me with Warden Marshall’s log press brutality, unlocking the parts of me I wanted to stay

unseen.

If she’s going back to cold, I can be cold. I promised her that. It can be done. Last night happened. But it’s done. A promise is a promise.

Doesn’t stop me remembering. I think her chocolate eyes widening, the blush that really did travel across her entire body were the most bewitching sights.

But what matters most is that she never said she wanted this to happen again. Not for a second. She juts wants me to protect her from Luca.

I’m a friend only. Not a mate. Not even a boyfriend.

Time to remember the important stuff. Tessa and I not dying. Luna Sabrina, Donlon, Alpha Hale. War and bloodshed. Rebels who pin notes to corpses. That’s the shit I need in my head.

“Nothing else whatsoever.” before Pawful jumps onto my bare chest. Trying to lie down, nuzzling into my facial hair.

“Not the fucking time,” I murmur to the black, brown and gold menace. “No chicken for you.” She hisses and jumps off, scratching me in the proces

Even in the shower my brain kept whirring,struggling to pinpoint exactly where I went wrong.

We slept in each other’s arms. She was happy. Last night was a good thing!

There is no denying my wolf spent the night unsettled. Throwing pangs of pain into my chest, into my dreams.

With Tessa in my arms before, I usually sleep like alog. Maybe my wolf could sense her doubts. Meaning it’s a good thing she left. Good. Maybe I should stop letting her roll towards me, wake her up and stop stealing fake glimmers of affection.

“Fuck it. Let’s go,” I announce to the cat as the bells ring out again. I’m going to miss breakfast damnit. Pawful slinks out as soon as I open the door, trotting down the stairs like the owner of the place.

Dragging on a spare uniform I have to speed my way along the corridor if I’m going to get something to eat. Only to hear raised voices. Well, one thunderously loud man shouting at a tiny/reedy–voiced mouse. The sound of a door smashing against the stone wall has me reaching for the dagger at my back,

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Chapter 42

I slow down, and crouch, listenening at the foot of the stone steps.

“This is what it is!”

“People will hear!” her voice full of quiet panic.

“They’ve all gone to breakfast. Not you. No. You’re not eating today. Not until you learn your place.”

“But you promised. You swore it wouldn’t be like this.”

Holding my breath I try to steal a glance around the bulking stone wall. The suite door is open, held by a huge figure of a man.

“When I thought it was different! When I thought Vivienne would crawl her way back to me. No. So now you need to give me what I’m owed. Get that FUCKING CAT OUT OF HERE,” following by a haunting scream and a feline screech.

The fucker just kicked our cat. Tessa’s cat.

“I can’t. I won’t. Please! I’ll go to the Alpha-”

“Talk about going to the Alpha again I’ll slit your fucking throat in your sleep.”

A thunderclap of a strike rings out before the door slams and I hurry back up the stairs. The man’s boots thump past, kicking open the door to Black E.

I weigh up what to do for the best.

It was Irene. Trene just got hit by Isaac. Vivienne was his ex, dumped him just before the pair of them agreed to concoct this ridiculous lie. The obvious

solution is to go and kick the shit out of him, to run to Irene and comfort her.

But that won’t solve the problem. I want a permanent fix to this. Not a wedge of sympathy and sad apologies.

She’s been sitting across from me at our dining table for almost two months now. Irene wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’s just a sweet girl with dozens of freckles and pale green eyes. An ability to make anything lethal in her metalworking course. But I know she would be mortified at this coming out in publi knowledge.

Even if they weren’t lying, if there was a real mate bond, Isaac deserves fucking up.

It’s happening. The plan is forming in my head, landing in layers like housebricks. This will work. If I get the right help.

There is no time to consider why my idiotic brain immediately hopes Tessa will be proud of me looking out for her best friend. My wolf surges. That protective, deep–seated need to keep Tessa safe.

If Isaac so much as looks at her, I’ll take his throat without hesitation.

I break into a sprint, running around the back alleys of the accommodation blocks in order to avoid running into Isaac. People stare at me, pushing my way through thick groups of students on their way to various skills tests.

The heavy grunts of chumps wrestling each other into the dust cuts through the chatter. The hot fires of the forgery puff huge clouds of black smoke.

Irene needs to be there. She can’t be failing classes,

But I know who I need to find.

I catch a hint of orange, my head spinning to see/Tessa at her archery gathering. She quickly looks away, but then after a second her gaze lifts back up. give her a quick, brief wave. No running over and grabbing her for a kiss.

Just a wave. It’s a start.

The way my ribs clench when she returns it with a smile is almost lethal. Never have I been so relieved.

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I mouth, “find me after this,” gesturing at her fellow archers. That makes her smile drop. She’s going to think I have another agenda. Instead I’m going to have to mortify her with the truth about Irene.

She stood with Briggs, dressed in her usual pale beige and gold uniform. Her fiery copper locks tied up tightly in a delicate, intricate braid. With her smile gone, she is full of serious concentration. But she nods her head in agreement.

The time it must have taken to put that hairstyle in place, she must have left my side of the bed in the middle of the night. But there is no time to ponder that now.

Leaving the archery I sprint back up towards the packhouse, “You’ve missed breakfast dickhead,” some busybody shouted but I couldn’t give a shit. Instead I steel myself before pushing open the door into the royal section of the packhouse.

Up into the tower doors reserved only for the Alpha and his family.

I’ll take any of them, I can make this story work for all four of them but to my immense relief, the first room I barge into contains Princess Hazel.

“I need you. Urgently.”

“Maxim!” she squeaks, her reading book tumbling to the floor. Gray stone surrounds us, softened by long, lilac drapes, a fire and thick, chunky violet-

coloured love seats.

This is Luna Sabrina’s parlour usually. I try not to cringe at the huge butterfly painting hung over the fireplace. A thousand of the damn things flying into the sunny horizon, leaving the drooping flowers behind.

Hazel stands up, a hand dramatically placed to her low–cut cleavage. “What are you thinking! You have a mate!”

“I’m not joking around Princess. I need your help. Your mother is still recovering?

Her pretty little face draws paler at the mention of Luna Sabrina. Her blonde hair is freshly brushed, fanning out in long, golden waves past her shoulders. Of course her gown is immaculately white, a new necklace of what appears to be white gold draped around her slender throat.

“She is. Last night was…just” and shrugs her shoulders. What else can she say?

“I am sorry to hear that. Well, I need you to go and check on a girl in Block E. Her mate just hit her. He’s a nasty piece of work. I want him sent to the front with the next batch of troops.”

I want him killed if I can get that lucky.

She is too poised to scowl. She manages looking completely vacant without risking any wrinkles. Picking up her book and smoot she asks. “How can that possibly involve me?”

“Because you’re going to go over there. Room sixteen. Block E. See the state of her and then mention it to your father.”