Chapter 24 Accept the Mate Bond
ARYA
I waited until Ryker was gone before rounding on Luca. “That was unnecessary.”
“Was it?” He moved to the fireplace, pouring himself a drink from a crystal decanter. “He’s in love with you, Arya. Surely you see that.”
“He’s my friend.”
“He’s a male who wants you. There’s a difference.” Luca took a slow sip. “And having him here, feeling the mate bond between us, watching me claim what he wants. It’s going to destroy him.”
“You don’t know that.” I argued pointlessly.
“I’m eight hundred years old. I know exactly that.” His golden eyes found mine. “But if you need him here to feel safe, I’ll endure it. For you.”
The words should have sounded magnanimous. Instead, they sounded like a warning.
“Where’s Bardon?” I asked, changing the subject.
“In the library, already making himself at home. The old councilman knows this place well—he visited my mother frequently.” Luca set down his glass. “Let me show you your room.”
He led me up the grand staircase, down a hallway lined with portraits. I recognized some of them from history books. Famous Lycan rulers, warriors, historical figures.
“Your family?” I asked.
“Some of them. Others are allies, friends, people who mattered.” He stopped at a door at the end of the hall. “This was my mother’s suite. I thought you’d appreciate it more than the guest rooms.”
He opened the door, and I stepped into a space that stole my breath.
The room was enormous, with a four-poster bed draped in deep blue silk, a sitting area by the fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the gardens. Bookshelves lined one wall, a writing desk sat by the window, and a door led to what I assumed was a private bathroom.
But it was the details that made it special. Dried flowers preserved in frames. A collection of smooth river stones on the mantle. Watercolor paintings of the forest. Small, personal touches that spoke of someone who’d loved this room.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
“She would have liked you.” Luca stood in the doorway, not entering. “My mother. She always said I needed someone who’d challenge me. Who wouldn’t bow just because of the crown.”
“What happened to her?”
“Assassins. During a diplomatic trip to the western territories.” His voice was flat, emotionless, but I could see the pain beneath. “I was two hundred years old. Still young by Lycan standards. I watched her die.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It taught me an important lesson.” He finally looked at me. “Power attracts enemies. The people you love become targets. Which is why I’ll protect you with everything I have, whether you want me to or not.”
There was something almost vulnerable in that admission. This ancient king, admitting his fear of losing someone again.
“Luca—”
“Your things will be brought up shortly. Dinner is at seven. Casual dress.” He turned to leave, then paused. “And Arya? Thank you. For giving me these three months. I know it wasn’t easy.”
Then he was gone, leaving me alone in his dead mother’s room.
I sank onto the bed, my mind reeling.
This was my life now. At least for the next three months. Living in a manor house with a Lycan King who’d been waiting for his mate for almost a millennium, a best friend who was clearly in love with me, and an old councilman who kept hinting at earth-shattering revelations.
‘This is insane,’ I thought.
‘This is ALIVE,’ Lean corrected. ‘This is the first time we’ve truly lived in years.’
She was right. As terrifying and overwhelming as everything was, I felt more REAL than I had in my entire marriage to Jaime.
A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
“Come in.”
Ryker entered, his expression sheepish. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m sorry. For downstairs. I shouldn’t have—”
“You were protecting me. I appreciate it.” I patted the bed beside me. “But Ryker, we need to talk.”
He sat, keeping a careful distance. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“Do you?”
“You’re going to tell me I need to accept the mate bond. That you and the king are fated, and I need to step back.” His voice was rough. “I know. I just… I’m not good at it yet.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.” I turned to face him. “I was going to ask if you’re okay. This can’t be easy, living here, watching all this.”
“It’s not.” He laughed without humor. “It’s torture, actually. Feeling that bond between you two, knowing I never stood a chance.”
“Ryker—”
“But I meant what I said, Ar. I’m here for you. However you need me. Friend, protector, punching bag, whatever helps you survive this.” He finally met my eyes. “Even if it kills me to watch you fall for someone else.”
My throat tightened. “I’m not falling for him.”
“Maybe not yet. But you will.” He said it with sad certainty. I don’t know why I didn't argue. “Mate bonds are powerful things. And he’s… well, he’s everything, isn’t he? Powerful, ancient, looks like a god, clearly obsessed with you.”
“He’s also possessive, controlling, and has had eight hundred years to perfect his manipulation skills.”
“True.” Ryker smiled slightly. “But you like a challenge.”
He wasn’t wrong.
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I finally whispered. “You’re the only person who’s been there for me through everything. The only one I trust completely.”
“You won’t lose me. I promise.” He squeezed my hand. “But Arya, you need to let yourself feel this bond. Not for him. For you. Because fighting it is going to make you miserable, and I can’t watch you be miserable anymore.”
“When did you get so wise?” I smiled teasingly, wanting the mood to go back to being light, easy. Like it always is between us.
“About five minutes after I met you and realized I was completely screwed.” He stood, heading for the door. “Get some rest. I’ll see you at dinner.”
After he left, I explored the room more thoroughly. The bathroom was massive, with a clawfoot tub that could easily fit two people and a shower with multiple heads. The closet was already stocked with clothes in my size, in styles that ranged from casual to formal.
Luca had been thorough. Almost too thorough because how the hell did he know my underwear size? That’s just… crazy.
I was examining a particularly beautiful silk dress when another knock came.
“If this is going to be a parade of people, I’m locking the door,” I called out.