Mated to you

Chapter 2 - Restraint

By the time Reign returned, Thea had built a life out of the pieces he had left behind. It wasn’t whole but it was enough. She was learning how to survive his world, its rules, its people, and its dangers.

The silence between them changed her in ways she hated admitting. She became better at smiling when nothing felt fine, better at answering questions with just enough truth to satisfy people, better at pretending that waiting did not feel like begging.

Every day he stayed away, she taught herself to need him a little less.

And she hated him for making her learn how.

It had been just over three months since Reign returned.

Three months of him being close enough to feel, but too far away to reach.

He hadn’t spoken a word to Thea.

Not really.

There were moments when their eyes met across a room and she thought, foolishly, that this would be it. That he would finally cross the space between them. That he would say her name, ask if she was okay, tell her why he had left, why he had come back only to become another kind of absence.

But he never did.

He always looked away first.

And somehow, that hurt worse than him not looking at all.

He kept his distance, even when she was near, and she was near a lot lately. There were customs and traditions she had to learn as his mate, expectations she had to carry as his future Luna, and most of them required her to stand beside him like nothing between them was broken.

So, she stood there.

Beside him.

Close enough to feel the warmth of him, to catch the familiar scent of him, and close enough for her body to remember what her heart was trying to forget.

And still, he gave her nothing.

No words.

No comfort.

No explanation.

Only silence.

His silence hurt. It followed her into rooms. Sat between them at every event. Pressed against her chest when his hand hovered near her back but never touched. Sometimes she felt as if he no longer cared but then he would correct others for standing too close to her but refused to stand close himself. She noticed the way he made sure she was protected, fed, escorted, watched over, and yet he remained far. She knew he cared, that was the cruellest part.

She could feel it in every controlled glance, every restrained movement, every time his jaw tightened when another male spoke to her. He cared enough to make sure she stayed safe, but not enough to let her know where she stood with him.

And that left her trapped in the worst kind of hope.

The kind that kept breathing even after she tried to kill it.

The amount of energy she used to act unaffected around him drained her. She smiled when she wanted to ask why. She lowered her gaze when she wanted to scream. She followed his lead in front of others because that was what was expected of her, because she was meant to become Luna, because everyone watched them as if they were something whole.

But they weren’t whole.

They were two halves standing beside each other, pretending the fracture didn’t show.

She came to the garden often now, not just for the air, but to ease her mind. It was getting harder to be around him, harder to pretend his silence didn’t unravel her a little more each day.

He wouldn’t speak to her.

Wouldn’t acknowledge her at all.

But here, at least, the garden didn’t ignore her.

The life in here appreciated her presence, and the air wrapped around her like she belonged.

The moment River showed her the secret garden, Thea fell in love with it.

It was filled with plants from around the world. Some carnivorous, some lethal, and some so strange she wasn’t sure whether to admire them or keep her distance. But the magical plants were her favourite.

Here, she could let her true defeated self, relax. There was no judgment in the garden. No expectations. No pretending.

She wasn’t sure what Reign wanted from her anymore. Was he going to ignore her for a few more weeks? Months? Years?

She knew he had an abundance of years.

But she didn’t.

Did he know that?

Was he just waiting for her to wither away until he could finally move on?

She sighed, watching the moon spill across the moss-lined path, brushing silver light over the thorny vines blooming with large gold flowers.

The wroves were blooming again.

A half-moon hung overhead, and their petals spun in slow spirals, light and pollen drifting through the air. River had taught her about them during one of their lessons, back when everything still felt new. Ever since, Thea returned here every half-moon just to admire them.

She watched in awe as the pollen glittered in the night sky, like stars bursting between each bright yellow wroves.

It was breathtaking.

For a moment, it made everything else feel less heavy.

Then the dance shifted.

The wroves began to change colour, soft yellows bleeding into pale blues, then deepening into violet.

Thea’s brows drew together.

She knew what it meant.

A changing wrove meant she was no longer alone. They loved an audience. When more than one person watched, they bloomed differently, brighter, bolder, as if performing.

She turned.

And there he was.

Reign leaned against the stone fountain at the garden’s heart, half-shadowed by climbing ivy and moonlight. His gaze was fixed on her. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and even in the dark, she could see his amber eyes.

“Have you been there the whole time?” she asked.

The words slipped out before she could stop them. She hated herself for it. After months of silence, after everything, that was the first thing she said?

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t look away.

The wroves pulsed between them, violet shifting to silver, as if they could feel the tension building. As if they, too, were waiting.

Thea swallowed, fingers curling into her sleeve.

Did he want her to leave?

“Sorry,” she said quietly when he still didn’t respond.

His gaze stayed on her.

“I’ll leave,” she added, already turning.

“Thea.”

Her name broke in his voice.

She froze.

Slowly, she turned back. The wroves shimmered between them, silver fading into a soft, uncertain blue. Even they didn’t seem to know what came next.

“Yes…” she said, voice unsure.

“How are you?” he asked.

She blinked.

How was she?

He hadn’t spoken to her in months.

Was this small talk? Was he asking because he felt obligated? Because she had intruded on his secret garden?

“I’m…” She hesitated, then let the truth out before she could swallow it down. “I’m confused.”

His brows furrowed, slow and subtle, as if he couldn’t understand why she would be.

That stung more than she expected.

She looked toward the wroves. They no longer danced. They hovered, glowing soft blue.

Waiting.

“Why have you avoided me for this long?” she asked.

He didn’t answer at first.

The silence stretched between them, thick and fragile. The wroves pulsed once, then dimmed, blue fading into pale, uncertain white.

She was thankful for the night then. Thankful it hid what her face could not.

“I didn’t expect you to adapt so well,” he said at last, voice low. “You’ve come so far from where I left you. I didn’t want to say or do anything that might undo it all.”

He paused, his jaw tightening.

“Before I left, you feared me. Hated me.”

The silence cracked.

“For f**k’s sake, Thea…” His voice broke. “You tried to kill yourself to escape me.”

The words hung there.

Heavy.

Unforgiving.

Thea couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

Even the garden seemed to recoil from the memory. The vines curled tighter. The wroves dimmed to a mournful grey.

“I’m sorry, Reign,” she said, voice low and thick with regret. “For everything.”

He didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Only stood there, amber eyes darkening slowly.

“I don’t think you can handle any more of me,” he admitted. “Or what I’ve done. If you’ve chosen to stay, to be our Luna… that’s all I could ask for. It means more than you know.”

His voice was rough.

Almost broken.

“So that’s it?” she asked, her voice rising before she could stop it. “You just want me to be Luna and nothing more?”

“I want you to stay,” he said quietly.

“And I am.” A tear slipped free. “But I thought I would also be getting you, if I did.”

She stepped forward on instinct.

He lifted a hand.

Firm.

Trembling at the edges.

“Don’t come any closer,” he said.

Quiet.

Final.

Thea stopped.

“What?” Her voice cracked. “Then tell me. Are we done? Am I just here to be Luna while nothing else exists between us?”

She pushed because she needed him to say it.

Needed to stop lying awake every night wondering if anything between them would ever be real again.

His eyes, darker than night, held hers for one last breath.

Then he turned and left.

The vines didn’t move.

The wroves didn’t pulse.

But she felt it, the shift, the absence, like her heart was dragging behind him, threading through every root and stone he passed.

“Reign…” she called, her voice breaking as he disappeared into the night.