Chapter 80 The Useless Fated Mate

Chapter 80 The Useless Fated Mate

POV: Caelum

She finds me at the city edge.

Lyssara.

The fated mate.

Running. Desperate. Crying.

"Caelum, wait! Please!"

I stop. Not because I want to. Because she deserves at least that much.

She catches up. Breathless.

"Do not go. Please. I can help you. I can calm you. Just give me time. Give us time."

"There is no more time."

"There has to be. We are fated mates. Chosen by destiny. That has to mean something."

Her scent floods the space between us.

Sweet. Overwhelming. Chemically perfect.

It should work. Should calm me. Should stabilize the rage.

It does nothing.

Worse than nothing.

My stomach turns. Nausea twists through me.

I step back instinctively.

"Your scent," I gasp. "It makes me sick."

"That is not possible. I am your mate."

"Biologically, yes. Chemically, yes. But not in any way that matters."

"I do not understand."

"Neither do I. But the bond is wrong. Shallow. Like a performance without substance."

She steps closer. Tries again.

Presses the mate bond harder. Floods me with pheromones.

Desperation clear in every movement.

I recoil. Cannot help it.

The nausea intensifies. My wolf snarls rejection.

"Stop," I say. "Please stop."

"But I am trying to help!"

"You cannot help. You were never supposed to help. You were supposed to replace her. And you cannot."

"I can! Just give me more time. Let me try harder. Let me—"

"No."

The word is final. Absolute.

She stares at me. Tears streaming.

"Why? Why am I not enough? Fate chose me. Destiny paired us. I am everything I am supposed to be!"

"I know. And that is the problem."

"What does that mean?"

I try to explain. Try to make her understand.

"You are perfect. Chemically. Biologically. Everything fate said you would be. But you are not her."

"Who?"

"Nyra. The girl I destroyed. The only person who ever truly stabilized me. The one I chose the throne over."

"She was defective."

"No. She was powerful. And I was too blind to see it until too late."

Lyssara's expression shifts. Understanding starting.

"You love her."

"I needed her. That is not the same as love. But yes, in whatever broken way I am capable of, I think I did. I do."

"But I am your fated mate!"

"And she was my only salvation. Fate chose wrong."

The words hang between us.

Final. Devastating. True.

Lyssara crumbles.

Sinks to the ground. Sobbing.

"That is not fair. I did everything right. I was everything I was supposed to be. And it still was not enough."

"I know. And I am sorry. This is not your fault."

"Then whose fault is it?"

"Mine. The throne's. Fate's. Everyone's except yours."

I kneel beside her. Careful to keep distance.

"You deserve better than me. Better than this broken bond. Better than a mate who can never truly be yours."

"But fate—"

"Fate is not absolute. Not infallible. Not worth destroying ourselves over."

"What will you do?"

"Go north. Find her. Apologize. Probably die."

"And me?"

"You live. Find someone who can truly love you. Not just need you. Someone who chooses you instead of being chosen for you."

"I do not know how."

"Neither do I. But we both have to learn."

I stand.

She stays on the ground. Too broken to rise.

"I am sorry," I say. "For all of this. For using you. For trying to make you into something you could never be. For breaking you along with everything else."

"Will you come back?"

"No."

"Ever?"

"No."

"What about the throne?"

"Let it fall. It deserves to."

She looks up at me. Tears and desperation and heartbreak.

"I was supposed to save you. That was my purpose. My destiny. And I failed."

"No. Fate failed. The system failed. I failed. You just got caught in the middle."

"That does not make it hurt less."

"I know."

I turn to leave.

She speaks one more time.

"Do you think she will forgive you?"

"No."

"Then why go?"

"Because trying is better than not trying. Because she deserves to hear the truth. Because I need to say it even if it changes nothing."

"That is foolish."

"Yes. But it is the only honorable thing I have done in years."

I walk away.

Leave her there.

Sobbing among silk and guards and the ruins of a bond that never should have been.

Behind me, the city wakes. News spreading.

The heir has abandoned his mate. Abandoned the throne. Abandoned everything.

Let them talk. Let them judge. Let them rage.

None of it matters anymore.

All that matters is north.

The Icefield. The void. Her.

I follow the only trail that ever mattered.

Nyra's trail.

North to redemption or death.

Probably both.

And for the first time in years, the choice feels right.

Even if the outcome destroys me.