I didn’t sleep all night. After Seraphina retreated to the penthouse, Damien followed her up. “She needs someone to look after her,” was the only explanation he gave. I sat in our empty apartment, the memory of that mark- its scent-replaying over and over in my mind. The tear in our bond throbbed, a constant, agonizing reminder. Then it hit me. Three weeks ago. That night. Damien had said he was going to handle a border dispute and didn’t come back until the next morning.
That night, I lay in bed, fighting back waves of searing pain that tore through our bond. I thought something was wrong with me, or that —- Damien had been hurt in the conflict. I only breathed a sigh of relief when he finally returned. His clothes had the faint scent of laurel leaves on them. The sacred incense burned only during a Mating Rite. I’d even asked him, “Did you go to the Sacred Grove?” He’d said, “Just passing by.” It never even crossed my mind that he would betray me.
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Betray our fate. Now I understood. He had already marked Seraphina that night. And I, like a fool, had been sitting here worrying about his safety. At dawn, my phone buzzed. An encrypted email. From: The Laurel Healers’ Guild. “Dear Miss Isla, we formally invite you to participate —- in our research initiative on Ancient Life Energies. This is the highest honor for a healer and the perfect place for your talents.
Should you be interested, we hope for a response within the week.” Istared at the screen. This was the opportunity I had dreamed of my entire life. It was also my only way out. Damien walked in just as I was packing my things. “What are you doing?” “Packing my herbs,” I said without looking up. “Since the penthouse has a new occupant, I don’t want to be in the way.” “Isla, listen to me-” “There’s nothing to say.” I stood up and looked him dead in the eye.
“The Mating Ceremony,” I stated, my voice dangerously calm, “‘is off.” The color drained from Damien’s face. “you can’t do that.”
