Chapter 99

Chapter 99

I sensed a storm was about to pick up, and my magic was gone. As always, my erratic abilities let me down when I least expected them to, revealing their potential to me exactly when I most needed it.

I didn't think it could get much worse, but the truth had completely destroyed me and shot through every strand of my being. Despite my entreaties, he wouldn't believe a word I had spoken.

I couldn't tell how long I had been sitting here looking at the walls as the hours turned into days. Sometimes, when the pain kept me grounded in reality and brought me together while I slept, I would sense his presence. He remained a shadow in the room's corner, keeping watch over me the entire night as I remained still.

It all made no sense, and I was at a loss for what to do.

It was a pointless endeavor to try to make my magic work for me, and the revelation of reality had crushed me in a way I never would have imagined.

Derrick accepted that I didn't want him, even if he didn't think he could be mated to his deadliest enemy. I lay against his wooden floor, staring out of the balcony doors that he had made sure to lock before he left me alone, his aroma smothering me as he disregarded my words and sunk deep into his own anxieties. It had seared right through to my bones.

I wanted his mark more than he did, despite what he thought. I wanted to be his in every way—loved by him, obligated to him—but things were becoming more and more complicated.

When I had told him the truth, I assumed he would have believed me, but now I was just a broken, unintelligent shell of a person.

I hadn't been able to follow my mother's rules since he'd locked me in his room and had every intention of making me his on the full moon.

My time had long since run out, and she had only given me three days.

When the door to his chamber opened again, the sun was low in the sky, and I remained motionless even as my wolf growled at me to look upon my mate. I knew I had shattered his heart, and I knew I would do it all over again the moment my magic returned.

He took a moment to compose himself and inhaled deeply. My aroma was reaching him, with all the anxiety that filled it. His feet patterned gently on the floor, going farther than the armchair in the room's far corner this time.

His feet caught my attention before his dark blue pants.

With his knees bent in front of me, he cupped my cheek with his palm. The tenderness of his touch caused me to close my eyes, my tears stinging against my eyelids. Gradually, he raised me up and shifted my head until it rested on his lap.

"I hate seeing you like this," Before my tears could pass through my oily hair, his fingertips swept them away.

"You have to believe me—you have to." He made me quiet.

"You'll feel better after I mark you." As his finger touched the tendons in my throat, I felt immobilized by fear—both of being tied to him and of knowing that he would despise me for the rest of our lives.

I was stuck here with no way out, and the potions were gone.

Though I had expected to die, I had received the worst kind of punishment.

Was it his need for ignorance, or was it his haughtiness that prevented him from believing me? In any case, once he accepted the truth, it was something he would never be able to ignore. His deep-seated contempt for my birthright was evident.

Our mate bond would make the anguish much more intimate, but it wouldn't save me.

I leaned in to him and said, "I'm tired," despite my own fatigue.

At my words, he hummed softly, drawing me in closer as he caressed my body. He kissed me sporadically between my shoulder blades, his body's heat dispelling my melancholy. He moaned under the tease of my touch as my own hand moved to encircle the back of his head, my fingers pulling on the curls at the nape of his neck. I wanted him all over me, clinging to the strands of my soul and sinking into my skin. The mate relationship was meant to be like this, but instead—

"Derrick." I traced his name, and he grinned next to me. "I need you to know that the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you." He had been giving me time to accept his mark, but I had spent most of that time moping and the other half worrying about all the ways he would detest me. This time, he drew away from me.

"I hate that you think that I don't want you—it's the furthest thing from the truth." I could only hope that these words would console him when he was too sick to look at me. His eyes shone with surprise at my confession.

"I want you more than anything—to have you like this and to know that love is something that we could both give to each other." Even though my words were gentle, I understood what they sounded like—a type of farewell, a conclusion to anything. A scowl started to tug at his lips.

His jaw muscles twitched with an emotion he was not willing to display on his face, and his nostrils flared slightly. He was still upset with me for trying to sever our mate bond, and I questioned whether he had given my comments any thought in the previous few days.

"The moon will be out in an hour, and our pack will be waiting—we should get ready." He looked from me to the bed instead of back at me. "I picked out a few dresses for you, and I could help you get cleaned up if you'd like." His question was asked in a monotone way that made my chest pound.

I got off his lap and sat up, my head spinning.

I put my hands on my forehead and moaned. When he heard the pain in my voice, Derrick briefly appeared alarmed and began to run his hands up and down my knees.

"Can you get me something to eat while I take a shower?" I attempted to give him a look.

Since he had imprisoned me in this room, he had made numerous attempts to induce me to eat, but I had been so engrossed in my thoughts that the act of forcing food into me was intolerable.

He gave another click of his jaw and nodded. He brought me to his restroom after helping me get up off the floor, but he didn't stop there. Moving to the far end of the room, he went to the shower and played with the knobs and the screen before the water started to pour down from the ceiling. He gave me one more look and left.

As I started to undress, a high-pitched sound was playing in my ears, and a horrible feeling was starting to twist about my limbs as I dipped into the lukewarm water. When it touched my flesh, I shivered and felt uneasy in my stomach. Though I was complying, I knew I would have to flee if his teeth came up in my throat.

When I was finished, I wrapped a towel over my body and didn't really bother washing my body with soap or shampooing my hair because such chores were too much for the mental chaos I was already experiencing.

After fifteen minutes, I found myself back in his bedroom, his gaze sweeping over my entire body while my hair dripped ever so slightly. With a pizza plate in his hand, he was perched on the side of his bed. I was still standing in front of him as I took a slice off the plate, my pulse pounding from the memories. As the doughy delicacy with the sauce and cheese assaulted my taste buds, I gulped it down and groaned.

I took another slice after he slid the platter in front of me once more.

I felt his gaze on me, but I was too scared to look at him, so I looked away at the garments he had strewn all over his bed. There were a fair number of them, each with its own distinct style. The first was a deep crimson, floor-length gown covered in sequins that instantly made me say no because it would be uncomfortable to run in and totally unsuitable for the activities planned for this evening.

The second dress had a lot of tulle in a softer purple color; it was lovely with pearls running down the neckline, and the skirt appeared to go all the way to my calves. Even though it was a little less ridiculous, handling it was still way too much work.

I hurriedly finished my pizza slice, wiping my greasy fingers on my towel before I held it up the hanger. The last dress was my favorite choice out of the lot.