Chapter 40 The Mate Revelation
Kira’s POV
The fork didn’t just clatter.
It hit the marble floor so hard the silver bent.
Adrian didn’t move at first.
He stood perfectly still, head slightly tilted, like a wolf who just heard a rabbit squeak inside his pack.
Then the temperature in the hall dropped ten degrees. I swear the lights flickered.
Speaking of lights, I should ask Adrian to get me a phone. I need to know how relaxed those weasels are in LA. I need to start monitoring them.
Every person in the room felt the chill.
The guards by the doors shifted, taking a stance as though preparing to attack.
Margaret actually scooted her chair back an inch.
Even the servants froze mid-step.
Adrian’s eyes…freaking gold, glowing, inhuman…locked on Levi with the kind of stare that promised graves.
How is he even doing that?! I would like to be that cool too.
The silence stretched so long I could hear my own heartbeat.
Then he spoke.
Voice so low it vibrated in my bones.
“Say that again, Levi.”
Levi, idiot that he is…lifted his chin like he was preparing for war.
“I said Arabella is my mate. Mine. The Moon Goddess bound us the moment she crossed the threshold of this kingdom to marry you. I only stepped aside because the council demanded the alliance, not because I wanted to.” His voice cracked into a low, dangerous growl. “But I can’t keep lying. I can’t mark another woman when the one created for me is breathing the same air. That’s why I begged for permission to keep her near, even after the union with the vampire princess. I’m done pretending. I’m taking back what fate wrote for me, brother.”
‘Ooooh, here we go,’ I screamed in my head. They’re totally about to fight. Like a full cinematic soundtrack playing, shirts ripping, someone yelling “SHE’S MINE!”
Will I have to choose between them? Please let it be dramatic. Please let it be messy. Please let there be a climax.
Idiots. Absolutely comedians.
Arabella is dead. After they all bullied and killed her, they’re here flexing testosterone like peacocks with brain damage. Let them ruin themselves…I don’t even care.
Adrian moved slowly.
Not fast.
Slow.
Like the calm before a hurricane decides to erase a coastline.
His chair scraped back with a sound that made my teeth hurt.
His claws were out, black and curved, digging grooves into the ancient oak table as he leaned forward.
“Yours,” he repeated, tasting the word like it was poison.
Levi swallowed but held his ground. “Yes. Mine.”
Adrian smiled.
It was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen.
There was no humour in it. Just teeth. Too many teeth.
“You felt it,” Adrian said, voice velvet-soft and razor-sharp, “the moment she walked in.”
He took another step around the table. One more single step.
The floor cracked under his boot.
Levi’s bravado flickered.
Adrian kept coming, slowly, shoulders rolling like a predator who already knows the prey can’t outrun him.
“You felt that she was yours,” he continued, “But because you’re a generous person, you let me have her because of the council?”
Another step.
Another crack in the marble.
Levi tried to step back and almost tripped on his own robe. His mother sighed, her hands on her forehead as though shielding herself from the embarrassment.
Adrian stopped an arm’s length away.
The air around him shimmered with heat and killing intent.
“Let me explain something to you, cousin,” he said, voice so quiet we all had to strain to hear it. “The only thing you felt was your death coming.”
His hand shot out, wrapped around Levi’s throat, and lifted him clean off the ground like he weighed nothing.
Levi’s feet kicked uselessly.
His face went red, then purple.
Adrian brought him close until they were nose to nose.
“If you ever say those words again,” he whispered, “I will peel your skin off in strips and feed it to you while you watch. Then I’ll let the omegas finish whatever’s left.”
Adrian opened his hand and Levi dropped, gasping, clawing at his neck.
Argh! That’s it? No bloodshed? No drama?
Adrian turned back to the table, eyes still glowing, claws still out, blood dripping from probably clenching his hands.
He looked at every single person on the table, one by one.
“Anyone else want to claim what’s mine?”
Dead. Silence.
He stormed back to me, his hand shooting up to grip my jaw with that possessive edge that made my pulse race.
Then his mouth crashed against mine, hard, hungry, a brutal claim staked with teeth and tongue, like he needed to brand me right there in front of everyone. Fuck the consequences. I kissed him back just as viciously, arching into him, because god, I wanted to see Levi’s face twist with jealousy, wanted to watch the moment that thin thread of restraint in him finally snapped and they tore into each other over me.
I’d genuinely never had two guys so much as argue over the last slice of pizza because of me, let alone throw punches.
Back in my old body I was the human equivalent of background wallpaper, cute if you squinted, forgettable the second you blinked. So sue me, the idea of being the accidental spark that turns two grown men into brawling cartoon characters is kind of hilarious. I just want to sit here, wide-eyed, fork in hand, watching them trip over their own egos.
When he finally ripped his mouth away, both of us breathing ragged, his thumb dragged slowly across my swollen bottom lip, teasing softly, like he was already imagining it wrapped around something else entirely. His eyes burned into mine, dark and victorious, daring me to pretend I didn’t just melt for him.
“Eat, mate,” he said very softly, and then turned to look at Levi. “If anyone so much as breathes wrong in her direction again, I’ll start ripping throats out until the survivors learn manners.”
Then he sat down, picked up a new fork like nothing happened, and started cutting my pheasant into perfect bites.
And for the first time since I opened my eyes in this body, I wasn’t sure if the shiver that ran through me afterwards was fear… or something else entirely.
Because that rage?
That was all for me.
And gods help me, it felt good.
I stared at Adrian’s hand still locked around my thigh after he was done cutting the meat. His hand was like a steel band, but I ignored it and forced myself to breathe.
Don’t fall for it.
Don’t you dare fall for it, Kira.
All this growling, all this “mine” bullshit…it’s not about me.
It’s all about what he thinks I can give him. Rather…what this body can give him.
Arabella warned me before disappearing about what he’s truly about.
So it turns out that Adrian doesn’t understand what love is. He wants the power that comes with the true Luna mark. Which Arabella explained to be equivalent to biting.
He believes that if he knots me enough times during what Arabella called “heat”…like I’m suddenly an animal in season, burning and desperate, the bite mark he will leave on my skin will finally turn silver. Then the throne’s ancient curse will stop howling in his veins, and the wolf that’s been clawing at his mind for a bloodbath will finally be tamed.
That’s it.
That’s all this body is to him…Just the only key that can quiet the beast screaming in his blood.
So no, this jealous caveman act isn’t protection.
It’s ownership.
I will never give him what he wants.
My eyes slid to Levi, still on his knees coughing, red marks blooming around his throat.
And what the hell did this slimy toad mean “‘Arabella is my mate’ anyway?”
Back when I first woke up in this world, Liana had explained it like I was five…
A mate is someone’s fated partner…you know…like penguins have one true love for the rest of their lives…
So if Levi is telling the truth…then Adrian isn’t my real mate?
My stomach flipped.
Does that mean Levi expects me to bite him too?
Ew no.
Levi staggered to his feet, voice hoarse but still dripping arrogance.
“Your Majesty,” he rasped, not planning on giving up. “King Ariston can bear witness. Arabella is my mate. I felt the pull the second she walked into this kingdom. I don’t care about your threats… I’m royalty too. I want what’s mine.”
Lady Margaret grabbed his sleeve, laughing too loud and too nervous. “He’s got his head stuck up in some clouds, Adrian, please ignore him.” Then she whispered to Levi. “Levi, darling, sit down. You’re confused. You don’t know what you’re saying. Your Majesty, please disregard whatever nonsense is coming out of his mouth right now—”
Levi flicked her hand off like it burned him and stepped away from the table so he was standing in the middle, facing everyone.
“I demand you honour your word, Adrian,” he said, voice ringing clear. “You gave me your word in the throne room. You said I could keep my mate by my side if I announced her today. Why are you going back on it now? Do you fancy my woman, cousin?”
The taunt landed like a lit match in dry grass.
Adrian’s eyes snapped open.
I heard him curse under his breath, low and filthy.
Before he could move, King Ariston stood up, hands raised like he was calming a wild animal.
“He’s right, Your Majesty,” Ariston said, smooth as oil. “The boy felt the bond. We all saw it. Arabella is indeed Levi’s mate.”
The words barely left his mouth and Adrian was moving.
Not walking, moving. A blur of shirt and rage.
He vaulted the table in one leap, plates crashing, wine splashing like blood.
Levi didn’t flinch.
He smiled.
A cold, calculating, knowing smile that made my skin crawl.
Adrian’s claws were out, eyes pure gold like he’s ready to tear Levi into pieces.
But Levi just stood there, arms loose at his sides, that creepy little smirk still in place.
Like he wanted Adrian to hit him.
Like he was begging for it.
Like the second Adrian’s fist connected, something terrible and irreversible would happen.
And suddenly I understood.
This wasn’t about the mate thingy.
This was a trap.
And Adrian was about to walk straight into it.