Mated to you

Chapter 1 - Deep thoughts

Thea stood by the window in the room she had woken in. The outside of this place was beautiful. She had no idea where he had brought her. The garden was hardly a garden, more like an extravagant estate sculpted by someone who had never known restraint. Marble paths curved through hedges trimmed with obsessive precision, and fountains whispered secrets she couldn’t hear from this height.

She wouldn’t have imagined this view from her bed. The room was more modern than the outside revealed. She sighed, what was she going to do? The glass was cool beneath her fingertips. She pressed her palm to it, grounding herself. Somewhere below, he was probably watching. Or waiting. Or maybe he was just at her door, listening. Thea didn’t know which was worse. She had been claimed by him, that’s how it felt. Claimed and a fool. He was too good to be true. The way he looked at her, spoke to her, touched her, every gesture had felt like devotion. But devotion could be a trap too, couldn’t it? She had been willing to marry him. Willing to give up everything she knew for the promise of forever, with him. But that was before she found out what he was. Little goosebumps appeared on her skin at the thought.

Previously, any thoughts of him would send her wild, with love, with romance, with the kind of hunger she’d never known before. But now, now the thoughts were only of that night. The way he changed into a beast, the look in its eyes as it stared at her like its next meal, it hadn’t been awe she felt. It had been fear. Primal. Cold. The kind that settles in your bones and makes you question everything. Not only had he hidden the truth from her when they met, he cloaked it in charm and tenderness, but the depth of his feelings were only instincts. Biology. A fate written without consent. She sighed, a tear slipping down her cheek as she walked back to the bed and sat. The mattress dipped beneath her, soft and silent, like it didn’t dare interrupt her thoughts.

Things were much worse now that she had a moment to process. Now that the adrenaline had faded, and the silence had returned. Now that she realised, he wasn’t only some type of animal beast, but also one forced to love her. To possess her. Thea wrapped her arms around herself, not for warmth, but to hold herself together. She sat there for a long time, unmoving, watching the shadows stretch across the floor as the sun dipped lower. The light turned golden, then bruised, casting the room in a melancholy glow. Her fingers traced the edge of the mattress absently, grounding herself in the texture, the weight, the reality of this place. She traced the seam again, slower this time, as if the mattress might answer her if she touched it just right. But it didn’t. Nothing did. She looked toward the window. She needed to get out. She’d said she wouldn’t run again, but her thoughts were consuming her, breath tightening, chest constricting. Panic clawed at her ribs. She moved quickly, silently. Peeking through the window, she noticed vines which ran down the stone walls, high, very high. She’d have to climb slowly or risk plummeting to her death. The window creaked as she pushed it open, the sound slicing through the silence like a warning. Cool air rushed in, sharp and earthy, tinged with pine and something darker. Something that smelled like him. She ignored it. The vines were thick, braided like muscle, slick with dew. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the first one, testing its strength. It held, barely, she climbed anyway. Each movement hurt, the cold air stung her throat and froze her bones. Her breath came in shallow bursts. The stone scraped her knees, the vines tugged at her arms, and the wind whispered fear in her ears. But she didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Halfway down, her foot slipped. A gasp threatened to tear from her throat as she dangled, one hand clutching the vine, the other sealing her mouth from sound. Her heart thundered, wild and erratic, but she didn’t scream. She wouldn’t give him that. She found her footing again, legs shaking, and continued downward. The ground was still far, but closer now. The vines thinned near the bottom, fraying into brittle strands that snapped beneath her weight. She gritted her teeth as they chattered together from the cold and possibly an oncoming fever. Her eyes locked onto the ground. Ten feet, maybe less. Her arms burned, her legs trembled, but she didn’t stop. Couldn’t. A final drop. She let go. Her body hit the earth hard, knees buckling, palms scraping against gravel. Pain bloomed across her limbs, but it was distant, dulled by adrenaline. She rolled onto her back, panting, staring up at the window she’d escaped from. It looked smaller now. Farther. Like a wound in the stone. She pushed herself up, staggered to her feet. The estate loomed behind her, silent and pristine, as if it hadn’t just tried to swallow her whole. The garden was colder than she expected. The marble paths gleamed under rising moonlight, too perfect, too quiet. She didn’t know where to go. Only that she had to move. Fast. She limped toward the edge of the grounds, where the hedges grew wild, and the order gave way to chaos. Her breath came in shallow bursts, each one a countdown. She didn’t know if he’d sensed her absence yet. But she knew he would soon.

She climbed over what must have been the boundary fence. Why was this escape so easy? That question gnawed at her as she dropped to the other side of the fence, breath catching in her throat. The ground here felt different, untamed, as if she’d crossed into something forbidden. The estate behind her was still, eerily so. No alarms. No growl in the distance. Just the perfect getaway.

Why was it so easy?

Was he letting her go?

Or worse, was he watching?

The thought made her skin crawl. She turned, scanning the tree line, the shadows, the silence. Nothing moved. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. He could be anywhere. Everywhere. She’d seen what he could become. She pressed forward, heart thudding, each step heavier than the last. Maybe this wasn’t escape. Maybe it was a test. Or a game. Or maybe he believed she’d come back on her own.

She wouldn’t.