Lycan Prince's Fated Mate

13

I kissed Miranda with more than a little anger and she moaned into my kiss, her claws ripping my shirt open.

I would erase Ivie from my mind regardless of what it was going to take.

Miranda’s lips parted eagerly beneath mine, her tongue sliding into my mouth.

An image of Ivie’s cherry red lips curved up in a mocking smile popped up in my head unsolicited.

“...did you expect me to stay behind… and grovel for the dregs of your affection?”

My hold on Miranda's hair tightened reflexively and she gasped into our kiss, misinterpreting my gesture, her hand reaching eagerly for my pants.

I lifted Miranda easily, reaching our bed in a few strides before dropping her on it.

Miranda stared up at me, her blue eyes full of desire, the opposite of the disinterest in Ivie’s enigmatic emerald gaze in that damn dance.

I kissed Miranda again with more force, trying to push Ivie out of my mind but I failed once more.

The scent of vanilla and fruity luscious jasmine hung heavy in the air and for a moment it was Ivie I was kissing.

Her wavy dark brown hair strewn across my sheets, her body trembling beneath my touch with those little quivers she always had each time I’d touched her.

It was her hands entwining with mine guiding me between her parted legs and her low throaty moans in my ear.

“Dante, yes.” Miranda moaned as I fingered her and the fragile illusion shattered, bringing me back to my stark reality where Ivie was just my past.

I pulled away from Miranda. I knew my hands were shivering.

Miranda sat upright, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion as she stared at me.

“Dante, what's wrong?”

My arousal was completely gone as I stood up from the bed equally confused by the… guilt I felt deep in my chest.

“This was a mistake.” I wasn't aware of when the words left my lips.

“A mistake?” Miranda gaped at me. “What do you mean?”

I turned away from her, retrieving another shirt from my wardrobe. I didn't look at Miranda as I pulled it on.

“I need to go,” I said and that seemed to snap Miranda out of her haze, anger taking the place of disbelief.

She pulled my suit jacket out of my hand before tossing it away, a growl on her lips.

“You can't just leave like this!”

I looked from the jacket on the ground to my mate.

“Get a hold of yourself, Miranda.”

“Get a hold of myself?” Miranda scoffed, her voice climbing higher with each word. “If you don't touch me, how are we supposed to get an heir to claim the throne?!”

The throne.

Of course, that was what Miranda was most concerned about.

“At this point, our problems are bigger than creating an heir to the f*****g throne,” I deadpanned before walking out of the room.

I was barely a few feet away when I heard Miranda’s frustrated screams and the shattering of glass in the room.

These days, I found that I preferred the solitude of my loft in the city. I didn't know if it was the quiet I enjoyed, or I was simply avoiding Miranda and her rapidly escalating tantrums.

If I was being honest, this shift in Miranda's behavior had begun even before she had lost the baby, but I had chalked it up to her sensitivity due to the pregnancy along with the instability in the palace following my rejection of Ivie.

I was certain now in her rage, Miranda would find a maid or guard to take out her anger on. And all I could do was compensate them and pick up after her.

It didn't feel nearly enough.

I was barely settled in my loft when I called Aiden up.

“Do you have anything on her yet?” I asked, feeling more desperate than I should have.

Ivie. Ivie. Ivie.

The omega I had no business thinking about.

“I just sent the report to you,” Aiden said.

I stared at the report far longer than I should have.

Maybe it was because they held even more pictures of Ivie. She was beautiful and wearing black in every single picture but one.

In that photo, she wore a green dress that was eerily similar to the one she had on the night we had met.

Funny that almost seven years had passed since then, yet I could recall every single detail of that night.

I’d left the supernatural ball early, sick of people who barely knew me kissing up to me. But even in the privacy of my room, my restlessness had only grown with each passing hour. It was weird.

So, I left my room intending to take a walk only for Ivie to bump into me.

An inhale of her scent left me reeling with disbelief.

I’d found my mate.

Outrage warred with disbelief within me. I’d never expected to find my mate. It was such a rare phenomenon with Lycans that my parents’ mating had been termed a “blessing from the goddess”.

But for me, it was my worst nightmare made reality. I didn't want a fated mate. I couldn't choose a fated mate over Miranda.

Just a touch from her had me longing for more, even though I knew I couldn't break Miranda’s heart for a mate I barely knew.

I resolved to leave, but I couldn't stop myself from feeling her skin one last time. Then Ivie kissed me, and my world sundered.

I think that was when I started to hate her.

When I woke up the next day, it was with the bitter taste of regret in my mouth. If there was one thing I had prided myself on it was the fact that I always kept my word.

A leader who never kept his word was not one his people could rely on.

Yet, I had broken my word to remain at Miranda’s side with just one kiss from a stranger whose name I didn't even know.

Ivie was still fast asleep then, her head tucked into my chest. My fingers ached to trace down her soft skin. I wanted to hear her moan. Hear her scream my name. I wanted to feel her come apart in my arms.

And her scent, goddess, it was like a f*****g aphrodisiac, sent to torment me and— that was when it hit me. Her scent. My mate was an omega.

She hadn't smelled like one the night before. I was certain. It took me a moment to locate the bottle of Allure among her things and it was then I knew I’d been had.