Past Mate

Past Mate


REYNA'S POV

“Because you’re not just someone I desire,” he said, his voice low and rough. “You’re someone I was meant to find. Again.”

His words hit something deep inside me. My heart was pounding, my chest tight.

“Again?” I asked quietly.

He looked at me, really looked, and then slowly shook his head. “No… not like that. Not in past lives or anything magical like that.”

He took a small step forward. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his body, like a fire I wasn’t sure I should touch — but couldn’t help reaching for anyway.

“I’ve been watching you, Reyna,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “For a long time. Since you were small.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“From a distance,” he added quickly. “Never close enough to be seen. Never close enough to be tempted.”

Tempted?

“I was there… in the shadows, in the silence. Just far enough to feel you… close enough to protect you.”

My throat tightened. “Protect me… from what?”

His jaw clenched. A muscle ticked in his cheek. His eyes grew darker, colder, like a storm cloud had passed behind them.

“There was a man once,” he said slowly, each word heavier than the last. “In one of your foster homes. He used to come into your room at night.”

My stomach turned.

Draven’s fists were clenched so tight I thought he might break something. “You were so small. I knew what he was doing. I wanted to rip him apart right there. But I couldn’t… not then. So I waited. The next morning, he was dead. Everyone thought it was natural causes.”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even blink. My legs felt unsteady beneath me.

“You… killed him?” I whispered.

He nodded, unapologetic. “I did.”

I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, trying to breathe past the tightness in my chest.

“I thought I was losing it,” I said shakily. “That no one knew. No one cared.”

“I knew,” he said softly. “I cared.”

I lifted my eyes to him again, my voice smaller now. “The painting… . The woman with the green eyes. Was she someone you protected too?”

He went quiet.

He stared into the distance like he was pulling memories from somewhere far away. Then he nodded.

“She was my mate.”

I blinked. “Wait—your mate?”

“She was meant for me,” he said. “Just like you. But I never told her. We only spoke once. That was all.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?”

His eyes softened, something fragile hidden behind the hard edges. “She had a light in her. Pure, innocent. I didn’t want to taint it.”

I swallowed hard, my voice low. “What happened to her?”

“She was killed,” he said. “By her husband.”

A chill moved over my skin.

“And you…?”

“I killed him,” he said simply.

I looked up at him, my voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me about the painting.”
His eyes darkened with something between memory and regret. “I was always meant to have a human mate,” he began. “But the first… she betrayed me. Almost killed me for power. After that, I swore off mates, swore off humans. The bond between us snapped the moment she made her choice — we were no longer connected. But when a mate is lost, the Moon Goddess either blesses you with another… or curses you.” His jaw clenched. “Over the years, I’ve had others. Mates I never touched. I stayed away, even watched some fall in love with humans and build lives without ever knowing I existed.” He paused, eyes softening. “The woman in the painting… she was one of them. I saw her, and for once, I couldn’t walk away. We spoke only once. She had no idea who I was, what she meant to me. I didn’t tell her. She had these beautiful, innocent eyes… and I knew if I got any closer, I’d ruin her. So I didn’t. I just had her painted. It was the only way I could hold on.”

I didn’t know what to say. I looked down at my hands.

“So that’s why you had the painting done,” I murmured. “Because you still loved her.”

He shook his head slowly. “I cared. I still do, in a way. But you—”

He moved closer, kneeling slightly so we were eye-level.

“You are different. The bond I feel with you… it’s stronger than anything I’ve ever known. Stronger than I’ve ever felt, even with her. Even without touching you, without claiming you, you’ve changed me, Reyna. Just by existing.”

My breath caught.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.

“You’re special,” he said. “Not just to me.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he took my hand in his — gently, slowly. His fingers brushed along my skin, and I felt a strange warmth rise under his touch. The markings on my skin, the ones I had never understood… they began to glow.

A soft, golden light danced along my hand like fireflies moving through my veins.

I gasped. “Draven—”

“See, Reyna,” he said softly, “that doesn’t happen normally. I don't love you just because you like some woman I met years ago Reyna"

I looked up at him, eyes wide. “So what does it mean?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he moved closer, his body pressing into mine gently, his hand sliding around my waist, pulling me toward him until there was no space left between us.

His other hand settled at the small of my back. His touch was warm, grounding.

“It means,” he whispered, voice deep and full of emotion, “I’m done running. I can’t turn away from you, Reyna. Not anymore.”

His eyes locked with mine. “And if loving you means I’ll die… then so be it.”

Before I could respond, his lips crashed into mine.

The world fell away.

All I could feel was him — the heat of his body, the hunger in his kiss, the desperate way he held me like he had been waiting a lifetime. His kiss wasn’t soft. It was wild, raw, full of all the things he couldn’t say. All the years he spent hiding. All the pain. All the love.

I clung to him like he was air.

Because in that moment, he was.