Chapter 15

Feya’s POV

I heard my father’s voice reverberating through the walls, his words still searing through my thoughts. The echo of his anger seemed to crawl under my skin, a constant reminder of how I could never get things right, never be enough. I didn’t have the energy to face him again, to hear him tell me how I was a disappointment, how I failed him, how I failed everyone.

I couldn’t breathe with his voice hanging in the air, so I did what I always did when I wanted to escape: I walked. My feet carried me down the hall, though I didn’t have anywhere in mind. Just somewhere away from the heaviness of this house, away from my father’s rage.

I ended up in the living room, standing by the window, staring out at the empty yard. The air was stale, and the mansion felt suffocating, cold even though it was summer. I felt cold. And that’s when I spotted it: the landline sitting on the side table.

It was a relic, an old lifeline I hadn’t used in ages, but right now it felt like the only thing that could ground me. I picked it up, feeling its cool plastic against my skin.

My fingers trembled slightly as I dialed my best friend’s number. I needed someone who could make sense of this chaos. Needed someone who could make me feel like I wasn’t drowning in it all.

“Feya?” Her voice came through, warm and concerned. “What’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I need answers,” I muttered, a tightness forming in my chest. “I’ve been thinking about... the mate bond. I just don’t get it. How did you know it was the right person? How did you know without everything falling apart?”

She paused for a moment, and I could almost hear her thinking, processing what I said. “You mean, how did I know it was really him?” she asked carefully, her voice softening. “Honestly, Feya, it’s not something you can just know right away. It’s a feeling, something deep inside. It pulls you in, and you can’t ignore it. But it’s not just about the bond. It’s about trusting that the bond is real, even if it doesn’t make sense. You’ll feel it when it happens.”

I closed my eyes, my stomach twisting. I didn’t want to feel it. Not with him.

“Yeah, but... What if it’s not right?” My voice cracked as I said it. “What if it’s someone you don’t want it to be?”

I heard her sigh on the other end of the line. “Feya, the bond doesn’t care about what you want. It’s already there. The best thing you can do is not fight it.”

I clenched my teeth, the weight of her words sinking into me, suffocating me further.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered, staring down at the landline in my hands. “I don’t know if I can... be with him.”

There was a pause, and then I heard a soft, “What do you mean? Who is it?”

The question hit me like a punch to the gut, and I stood there for a long moment, my chest tight. I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to believe it. But it was the truth. And the truth felt like acid on my tongue.

Before I could respond, it hit me. The pull. The surge of energy that ran through my entire body, making my heart race and my breath catch in my throat.

I didn’t have to look to know who it was. I could feel it.

Killian.

His presence was undeniable. My skin prickled as I felt his arms wrap around me from behind. That moment—when everything shifted—was almost suffocating. My breath caught in my throat, and my body froze.

His touch was like fire against my skin, and I wanted to rip away from him, but I couldn’t. The pull, the bond—it was too strong. It was like a force greater than myself was pulling me toward him, no matter how much I wanted to resist.

I hated it.

I hated the warmth of his body against mine, hated the way it felt like my heart was being torn in two.

“No,” I gasped, pulling away violently, my voice shaking with disgust and disbelief. “No, no, no... This can’t be happening again. Not you, sick head.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, a painful silence stretching between us. His arms fell to his sides, and I saw him take a small step toward me, his gaze soft but with an edge of frustration that matched mine.

“Feya,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You can feel it, can’t you? The bond. It’s real. We’re—”

“I don’t care!” I snapped, the words spilling out in a rush of frustration and fury. I could feel the tears threatening to rise, but I refused to let them fall. “I don’t care about any bond. I hate it. I hate you being my mate. I don’t want this.”

His eyes widened, and I could see the hurt flash through them, but all I felt was rage. I couldn’t stand it—couldn’t stand the thought of him being my mate. It felt like a betrayal, like everything in my life was a lie, and now this... this bond was just another part of that lie.

“You don’t understand, Feya,” he said softly, reaching out again, but I stepped back quickly, nearly stumbling. “I didn’t want this either. But it’s not something we can control. It’s fate.”

“Fate?” I scoffed bitterly. “I don’t believe in fate. I don’t believe in any of this. You—you’re my brother. How am I supposed to... how am I supposed to be with you like this?” My voice was shaking now, my chest heaving with anger and something else. Something I couldn’t quite name.

He took another step toward me, but I held up my hands, desperate to keep him away. “Don’t touch me,” I hissed, my voice breaking. “I can’t stand it. Don’t touch me.”

The words hit harder than I expected. I saw his jaw tighten, the muscles in his face clenching. But still, he didn’t leave. He didn’t pull away.

“Feya,” he said again, his voice low, almost pleading. “I’m not asking you to accept this right away. But you can’t run from it.”

I shook my head violently. “I don’t want this! I don’t want you!”

The words felt like knives in my throat, but they were the truth, and in this moment, the truth was all I could hold on to. I couldn’t accept this. Not with him.

“I don’t care,” I whispered through clenched teeth. “I hate it. I hate you being my mate.”

“Feya,” his voice was low, his grip firm but not painful. “If you’re not going to accept me, then reject me. It’s the only way. If you don’t want this—if you can’t handle it—then tell me. Reject me.”

His words cut through me like a blade. I froze, my entire body trembling as his words settled in. Reject him?

The thought of doing that... it twisted my insides, my heart skipping in my chest. I didn’t know if I could. I didn’t know if I even wanted to.

“I... I can’t,” I whispered, my voice shaking with emotion. “I can’t reject you.”

His eyes searched mine, full of pain and something else—something I couldn’t understand. “Then why are you fighting this so hard, Feya? Why won’t you just accept what we are?”

My hands trembled at my sides. “Because I hate it, Killian!” My voice broke, and I took a step back, my heart pounding in my ears. “I hate that it’s you. I hate that you’re my mate.” The words burned as I said them, but they were the truth, no matter how much they hurt.

I saw his face fall, the flicker of hurt flashing in his eyes, but there was something else there too—something that I couldn’t ignore. “I didn’t ask for this, Feya. I never wanted it to be like this, but we don’t get to choose. This bond... it’s real. It’s pulling me to you, just like it’s pulling you to me.”

“I don’t care!” I snapped, the anger I’d been holding inside now bursting free. “I don’t want it. I don’t want you as my mate!” The words spilled out before I could stop them, the rawness of my emotions flooding the room. “You’re my brother. I can’t be with you like this. This isn’t right.”

His grip on me tightened, but not in anger—he wasn’t forcing me. He was trying to hold me together, to stop me from falling apart. But I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t let myself feel this way.

“I’m not asking you to love me yet, Feya,” Killian said, his voice barely a whisper now, as if each word was weighing on him. “But I can’t let you go. Not like this. Not when we’re bound together like this.”

I shook my head fiercely, backing away from him. “I don’t care about the bond! I don’t care about any of it. I don’t want to feel this. I don’t want you.”

His face twisted with a mixture of frustration and desperation. “Then reject me,” he said again, his voice strained. “It’ll hurt, but at least you’ll be free of this. You won’t have to feel the pull anymore. You won’t have to feel me. You can walk away, you've always wanted us to be separated, it's just your opportunity to break the hound between us.”