Page 32 of Broken Arranged Mate
It reminds me of that night. Seeing Oren for the first time. Not knowing who he was, but knowing that he was my mate.
“Isn’t this awesome?” Emaline asks as we climb out of the car and the valet takes it away. Itisbeautiful, situated at the top of the plateau with a view of the entire valley. We filter inside and order the most expensive things on the menu, and a vintage bottle of wine.
“Your brother is paying,” Kira says, slapping his card down on the table. “Since he’s part of the reason you’re in this mess.”
“He’s not,” I insist, leaning forward. “It was my idea, Kira.”
She narrows her eyes at me, then sits back in her seat, that expression melting into the concern I’m so used to seeing on her face.
“Ash.” She stops, clears her throat, and looks to the other girls like she’s trying to figure out how to word whatever she has to say. Finally, she lands on a variation of what my brother has been saying to me. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”
“I know.” I look down at my lap. Even with the knowledge that Oren doesn’t want me, that he’s only going through with this for the packs’ combined sakes, I can’t stop myself from wanting it. From wanting him.
And maybe the girls would understand if I told them at least part of the truth.
“You know,” I say, picking up my wine, trying to say it as casually as I can. “When Oren showed up here, that first time…it wasn’t the first time I’d met him.”
As though they’ve planned it, their mouths drop open at the same time, and they glance at one another in shock. Understandable—with Oren being the son of Jerrod Blacklock and me being the sister of the Ambersky alpha leader, it doesn’t make sense that we would have ever seen each other. In fact, if either of us had set foot in the other’s territory, it likely would have been on sight.
With the exception of the super blood moon.
“You remember…” I stop, clear my throat. I can’t believe I’m telling them this, the secret I’ve been doing my absolute best to keep to myself. “You remember that super blood moon, all those years ago?”
I was much, much younger then. Still a teenager. But I knew my mate when I saw him. I keep things vague, but tell them just enough for it to make sense.
“Holyshit,” Emaline breathes, her mouth open still, eyes wide as she glances between me and the others. “I’d wondered about that—about what you would do if you met your mate after marrying Oren.”
“Oren is your mate,” Kira repeats, rote, before dropping her forehead into her hands. “That explainssomuch.”
“Does he know?” Veva asks, arms crossed. “I can’t see how he wouldn’t.”
This is the part that’s especially embarrassing.
“I, uh—I think it’s one of those non-reciprocal things,” I admit, running my hand up and down my bare arms. Earlier,I was feeling sexy and defiant in the dress, but now I just feel exposed. The looks on their faces are disbelieving, pitying.
A non-reciprocal mating bond is pure torture for the mate left behind. Some people believe they don’t exist, but I must be proof that they most certainly do.
“I…I tried to claim him, and he pushed me away.”
Emaline sucks a breath in through her teeth, drawing back, shaking her head. “Oh,fuck, Ash.”
“That’s pretty embarrassing,” Veva says bluntly, taking a drink of her wine, like that might help to wash the feeling away. “And…what? Why would he agree to marry you if he rejected you all those years ago?”
“For the packs,” I say, simply, because I know it’s the truth. “These marriages work because, in some ways, they alter our biochemistry. The things in our heads wired to pack bonds adjust when relationships span across them.”
“Oren was right,” Veva laughs, looking into her cup. “You are pretty fucking smart, Ash.”
I smile, thank her, but I’m not sure I believe her. Would a smart woman get herself into this situation? With a man who didn’t claim her back as a mate?
“Well.” Kira clears her throat, raises her glass, and says, “I have to get back to the dress after this, so let’s make the most of this moment. To you, Ash. For your sacrifice, and for the knowledge that if you ever decide to leave that fucker behind, we’ll be there with the getaway car.”
Chapter 19 - Oren
“You’re not in thepartyspirit, are you, Blacklock?”
Emin Argent is beside me, laughing, his head thrown back, a drink in his hand. He and Aidan have been on the dance floor since we got here, not dancing with any of the women in the club, but rather with each other, competing, it seems, for who can look the absolute worst while doing it.
The nightclub we’re in is nothing special—all dark metal, chrome accents, flashing blue lights. We’re somewhere in the Ambersky territory, and when I didn’t allow them to ‘kidnap’ me and bring me here, they settled for the middle ground of me not knowing the name of the club, having to sit with a blindfold in the backseat.
