|chapter 8|

|chapter 8|
|Talitha|

For a moment, confusion fills me at this enigmatic stranger's question. The same stranger claiming to be my mate. But no, it isn't possible. My mate was Cain.

The mere memory of that man sends a chill racing down my spine. Albeit it has been four years since I last beheld his face—four blessed years since I'd fled the wretched wreckage of what passed for our bond—I know in my marrow that the man before me surely is not Cain. He bears no resemblance to him, neither in countenance nor in bearing.

Cain had been handsome as well, but his presence never felt like this; never felt so vast, so consuming and fierce that tearing myself from this man’s hold had felt as though I were shearing off my own skin from my bones.

And now, standing apart from him, trying to keep a respectable distance when my every instinct begs me to close the gap and fold myself into the safety of his embrace once again, causes my chest to ache like I’ve been cleaved open.

This man is certainly not Cain.

Yet some dreaded part of me knows that he speaks true, and that terrifies me further as the memories of all that Cain did to me floods my mind because deep down, I know, this man can and will ruin me more than Cain ever did, and there's no way I can ever let that happen—not just for my sake but for my daughter's as well.

“What manner of jest is this?” I whisper under my breath, voice shaking. “The goddess would not be so cruel…”

But yes, she would. In fact she has been. After all, for all my life, she'd done naught but heap misery on my shoulders and rather than giving me a mate who would bring me solace and restore all that life had stolen from me, she'd given me Cain—a man who broke me, both in body and soul; a man who took what was left of me and ripped it to shreds.

And now, when at last, I have clawed my way back to a serene life, she would dare to set another mate upon my path. And not just any normal man, but one whose presence consumes the air itself; whose touch sparks a longing so sharp it borders on pain.

I cannot bear it.

I will not.

“No,” I mumble, my throat burning from unshed tears as I draw in a ragged breath. “I will not again be made a pawn in the goddess’s malicious games. I will not surrender what semblance of tranquility I have strived to build here. There is nothing more to explain.”

The stranger's golden amber gaze ignites with rage as he takes a measured step closer, the earth herself seeming to shudder underneath the weight of his wrath. “What is it you mean to say?” he demands, his voice a foreboding rumble that thrums against my bones. “That you would stand here before me, and defy the will of the Goddess? That you would dare to reject me?”

He moves closer, and though my pulse riots in my throat, I hold my ground, chin lifted stubbornly.

“Tell me, little mate,” he goes on, his voice gaining a mocking but pitying lilt which paints my cheeks crimson, “are you truly choosing him, this human townsman—” his flaming amber gaze flicks briefly to Ty, who goes rigid at my side. “—over me, your fated mate? Over the one ordained to treasure and protect you beyond all reckoning?”

My lips part yet no sound emerges because for the second time since our encounter began, confusion knots my brow at his words. What does Tyler have to do with any of this? Why is he—?

Then suddenly, the realization dawns on me, and I see it in the way the stranger glares harshly at Ty, who's cradling little Simon; the way his gaze flicks to Julie and my Erna, both clinging to my waist in fear, and the way his jaw tightens when Tyler steps just slightly closer to me, protective yet unaware.

Goddess, he thinks that Ty is my husband and the children all ours. He thinks I already built a life— a family, without him. That I chose someone else.

My breath catches as I part my lips to answer, only to falter once more. I ought to set this man aright, and clarify that Tyler is but a friend to me, naught more. That he is, in truth, the lawful husband of a woman I consider my dear friend, just as Julie and little Simon are her offspring, not mine unlike my Erna.

I should spill the truth and put the stranger out of his misery but as I stand here, heart pounding as I glimpse the obvious possessiveness in his eyes with his steely resolve to claim me as his, the words that should absolve me quickly dissolve on my tongue. Because if I confess—if I admit that I am indeed unclaimed, then whatever this thing is between us becomes real. It becomes binding, inescapable, and irrevocable. And I cannot allow that.

So I do the one thing I’ve never been good at; I lie.

“And if I told you yes, that I have chosen him over you and would do so time and again, what would you do?” I ask, lifting my chin and forcing a steel I scarcely feel into my spine. “I already have a family as you plainly see, so my husband and children are more than enough for me. The last thing I need is a mate emerging out of nowhere to stake his claim on me as though I were some trinket he carelessly misplaced.”

The stranger goes eerily still at my words—almost as if the earth itself has ceased moving. Yet despite my false bravery, my hackles raise in alarm, making my chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. I shift my gaze to Ty, hoping he'd understand and follow my lead, however, to my dismay, I find him staring at the stranger like he's seeing death and salvation all in the same breath. Tyler's arms tighten around Simon subconsciously, eyes wide and unblinking, his mouth agape in awe… and fear.

My stomach twists in anxiety. Come on, Ty.

But he doesn't even seem to hear my lie unlike the stranger whose answering snarl slices through the air like thunder, making Erna and Julie bury their faces in my skirt while whimpering in fright. I hug them closer to me, shielding them from this man who appears to grow larger than life as his muscles tighten in plain rage.

“You’re lying to me,” he grits, taking a threatening step forward and though it makes my knees quake beneath my skirts, I keep my shoulders squared in feigned bravery. After all, I stoked the fire, and so I should be the one to put out the flames.

“I’m not ly—”

“You dare lie right to my face!”

“Believe whatever you will, but it does not change the truth.” I retort, swallowing harshly as he walks even closer to me and I feel it—like the wind itself warping to bend around him.

“You. Are. My. Mate.” He says, pronouncing each word with unmistakable vehemence.

“Yet I already belong to someone else,” I insist, my grip on Julie and Erna tightening as the stranger's gaze flash, molten gold and full of wrath, while his tone pitches dangerously low with his next words.

“Do you think I will not tear him asunder for this insult? Do you think me incapable of punishing you for choosing to give yourself to another rather than wait for me, your fated mate?”

The murderous intent in his voice, his eyes, and in every one of his coiled muscles forces me to take a cautious step back with the girls as I crouch down to comfort them before sending them off inside to meet Mother Elvyra. I turn around to do the same with Ty and Simon before this sovereign predator of a man makes do on his threat. However, before I can move, his gaze slices to Tyler, pinning him in place with a lethal glare.

“Is it true?”

Ty blinks, startled and confused. “Wh—what?”

“Are you her husband?” The stranger spits harshly, his voice rolling like thunder. “Did you touch her? Claim her? Did you dare to—” he pauses, his tone dipping lower in outrage, “—to breed my mate?”

Ty stumbles back, the color draining from his face and leaving him blanched. “I–what in God's good name do you speak of?”

Panic propels me forward to grab onto Tyler's free hand and I pull him back with me, shooting him a smile while my eyes plead with him to play along.

“Ty, why don't you and Simon head indoors while I deal with this. I shall join you shortly.”

But Tyler doesn't move an inch, looking caught in a tempest neither of us can control as his eyes shift anxiously from me to this brewing storm of a man looming before us. “Talitha, w-what are you—?”

“Come now, darling,” I urge, becoming frantic as I try to make him leave before the stranger decides to truly harm them because of my lies. Eunice will never forgive me if I let that happen. “Do not fret for me, I'll be alright. But Simon grows restless, so you must take—”

“Enough!” The man growls again, interrupting us before Tyler can shape a reply. “I have had enough of this nonsense. I will not be made a fool of. You, you touched her. You dared to claim what is mine! I will make an example out of you.”

Then in the blink of an eye, the man, once several paces off, now stands right before us, teeth bared in a savage snarl. A cry of terror escapes Tyler as he quickly falls to his knees, body trembling while he draws his son tightly against him for dear life. And right before my very eyes, Ty begins kowtowing to the stranger, his forehead brushing the dirt as little Simon starts to cry.

“M-M-My King,” he breathes over Simon's wails. “I s-swear to you that it isn't true. None of which she speaks is true, Sire. I would–I would never—”

“Tyler!” I hiss, grabbing onto his arm in panic and betrayal. I try to cup his face, to get him to see the plea and desperation in my eyes but the man, who I had come to consider my friend just like his wife, swiftly jerks away from me, his fear and anger now directed at me.

“You don't understand, Talitha! That is the Alpha King. You dare not lie to the Alpha King, and you most certainly do not touch what's his. You don't belong to me, you never did. So please stop lying!”

Ty's words knock the breath right from my lungs, making me stagger back as one thing he'd just said echoes in my head.

Alpha King.

Alpha…

King.

My gaze tentatively shifts to the stranger—no, the Alpha King—who looms over me like judgement itself, his narrowed orbs trained on me with anger, disbelief and something else swirling in their pools.

I clutch my hands to my chest, suddenly chilled to the bones. I'd thought the lie would protect me. But it appears that I may have just signed my own ruin instead.