Page 52 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
The truth of her accusation stings. “There’s nothing between Elina and me,” I insist. “There never was.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Maya says, turning back to her work. “Fiona has started a new life. She’s trying to find peace, to discover who she is without her wolf, without the trauma ofher past.” She looks up at me, her expression softening slightly. “With her wolf suppressed, the fated mate bond will likely fade away. Her existence will stop bothering you soon enough.”
The casual way in which she delivers this information hits me where it already hurts. “That’s not—I’m worried about her,” I object. “I just want to know she’s safe.”
Maya’s expression hardens, genuine anger flashing in her eyes. “What exactly do you want from her, Erik? Do you want her to sit in the palace watching you gallivant around, a constant reminder that she was rejected? That she wasn’t enough?”
“I just want to protect her,” I insist, my own anger mounting.
“No,” Maya says flatly. “You’re being selfish. You want to have your cake and eat it, too. You want the comfort of knowing your mate is safe and waiting, without actually having to commit to her.”
I slam my fist down on the table, and Maya’s vials rattle from the impact. “You don’t understand what I’m doing,” I growl.
Maya rolls her eyes. “Your brother once said the same thing to me.” Her voice drops, becoming dangerously low. “You’re not being noble, Erik. You’re being stupid. And once Fiona dies, there will be no more fated mate. Ever.”
I go still, her words echoing in the sudden silence between us. “What do you mean?”
Maya sets down her tools, meeting my gaze directly. “I believe the reason Fiona was fading away wasn’t because she was rejecting her wolf. It was because you rejected her.” She moves to a shelf and pulls down a thick journal filled with notes. “Artificial shifters are different from those born to it. The fated mate bond isn’t just a blessing for them—it’s essential.” She flips through pages of complicated diagrams and dense text. “Think about it. The only two artificial shifters we know of—Fiona and me—both had fated mate bonds.”
“That could be coincidence,” I say, though doubt creeps into my voice.
“It could,” Maya agrees. “Or it could be that the Goddess knows what she’s doing. That the bond provides something we artificial shifters need to survive.” Her expression softens slightly. “I nearly died when Griffin and I were separated. The only thing that kept me alive was the hope of seeing him again.”
The implications hit me with staggering force. “You’re saying I’m killing her by staying away.”
“I’m saying your rejection accelerated a process that was already posing problems for her,” Maya corrects me. “The suppression treatment gives her a chance to live without the constant pain of your rejection. Without feeling her wolf die a little more each day.” She studies me for a moment, her gaze penetrating. “Unless you’re planning to accept her as your fated mate, I won’t give you the means to disrupt whatever life she’s building.”
“And if I am?” I ask quietly.
Maya’s skepticism is clear in her expression. “Are you?”
I open my mouth to say yes, but the word catches in my throat. Am I ready to make that commitment? To put Fiona before my duties, my responsibilities? To be vulnerable in ways I’ve avoided my entire life?
My hesitation is answer enough for Maya. She shakes her head slightly, disappointment evident in her expression. “That’s what I thought,” she says softly.
Irritation flares within me. “Fine. I’ll find her myself.”
I turn to leave, my mind already racing with possible tactics. She would have needed documents, funds…There must be a trail I can follow.
“Good luck,” Maya calls after me, her voice laced with sarcasm.
I pause at the door and look back at her. “I made a mistake,” I admit. “I won’t make it again.”
Maya nods slightly. “I hope not. For both your sakes.”
As I stride through the palace corridors, determination builds within me. I rejected Fiona once out of fear and a misplaced sense of duty. I won’t let her go again without at least trying to make things right.
First, though, I have to find her—a woman who doesn’t want to be found, who has changed her identity, her appearance, perhaps even her scent.
A woman who is dying because of the choices I pushed her toward.
The thought sends a chill through me. Time, I realize, is not on my side.
Chapter 9
Fiona
The morning rush is my favorite part of the day. I move behind the counter with practiced efficiency, steaming milk for a latte while simultaneously ringing up a customer’s pastry. The café hums with conversation and the rich scent of freshly ground coffee beans.
