Lycan Prince's Fated Mate

17

“I can’t,” I shook my head, failing to fight back tears.

“I don't know anything about it.”

He was dying. He had been dying even before I met him, I could smell it on him.

The human who had discovered the fact that I was a werewolf while catching me mid-shift on his expansive hunting grounds shortly after Mason’s birth.

I couldn't stay with Mia at the Shadow Pack, so I had moved around a lot working and trying to fend for myself and save for Mason.

Eric Westfield contracted me to look after him, keep him company in his last days. In exchange, he would keep my secret.

Focused on the family business, he never married or had children and now all the money in the world couldn't treat him.

“You've helped me out numerous times, you'll be fine.”

Eric tried to smile at me, but the motion was too pain-riddled to do anything but make me cry harder.

I couldn't envision myself heading a family business, the Westfield business at that.

“Helping out is different from running a business,” I protested. “You've got numerous nephews and⁠—”

“Don’t deny me this,” Eric’s cough was wet. Too wet. “I’ve already drafted the will. I want to die knowing the business is in the right hands. That it'll continue on after me.”

I looked at the human who had taken Mason and I in at the time when we had needed it the most, and I couldn't find it in myself to deny him the only thing he had ever asked of me.

“I'll do it.”

Eric didn't die until over six months later and I was at his side until he breathed his last.

The relationship between us had been that of an older brother and his sister, although I had been mistaken for his mistress in the times we had gone out together. As a prerequisite to head the company, I had to take the Westfield surname as only a Westfield could run the business. So, I had.

As someone who had grown up surrounded by people yet without a family, a true family, he was my first family and when I lost him only Mason’s presence had been able to center me.

I had to be strong for my son.

I wore black for Eric. For two people who were nothing alike but for a short time had been family.

“Will you continue hiding Mason from him?” Mia had asked before leaving.

If Dante found out about Mason, he would do anything to keep him to secure his bid for the throne.

I would never let that happen.

“My son is a child. The Lycan court is a merciless viper pit. They'll rip him to shreds. I don't want him to experience what I had to go through.”

Mia’s expression was unreadable.

“He is a Lycan royal, Ivie. He was born to rule.”

Fear gripped me hard and fast because Mia was right. He was a royal and as he grew older, that fact would become so much harder to hide.

There was only one thing I could do, wrap up my work here as quickly as I could before we were drawn into this Lycan inheritance squabble.

But I had a sort of premonition that it was already too late.

“Fifty-five, forty-five.” Everson was smooth, but I didn't flinch.

“Seventy, thirty,” I said.

We had been on this “negotiation” for the past twenty minutes in this cafe. For a billionaire, Thorne was a very, very stingy wolf.

He grinned at me showing too much teeth.

“Westfield, you drive a hard bargain.”

“This is a profitable bargain for you,” I didn't smile. “With a seventy-thirty cut, you will easily gross over three hundred percent profit.”

Everson flipped through the contract although we both knew it was just for show. He’d memorized the contents way before this meeting.

“If your business plan works,” he conceded finally. “How’s that partnership with Fort coming along?”

“Very well,” I lied smoothly. The fact was I hadn't seen Fort since the day of the gala.

I crossed my arms.

“Seventy–thirty is my final offer, Thorne, you know this is a great deal.”

Thorne’s smile broadened.

“I guess we will see.”

I finished my cappuccino, my mind working overtime. Thorne had conceded finally, but I still needed to meet with Fort and get that partnership deal or this would all have been in vain.

I stood up, about to leave the cafe when the last person I could have expected walked in.

It was Miranda. Blond hair expertly styled as though she had just come off the runway and those blue eyes blazing with so much hatred that I was momentarily stunned.

She walked right up to me as though she had come here specifically to meet me. Then she slapped me across the face. Hard.

I was so surprised that for a moment I just watched her.

“You b***h,” she snarled. “How dare you waltz back into our lives?”

Miranda took another step towards me, her dominance pressing down on me in an obvious attempt to intimidate me.

“Dante is mine, you can't have him or the throne.”

Unaffected by her display, I simply lifted an eyebrow.

“So, the rumors are true, you have lost your mind.”

She raised her hand again but this time I caught her wrist mid-swing. Then maintaining eye contact with her, I twisted it.

I saw the pain and surprise in her eyes bloom simultaneously. She hadn't thought I would fight back. Surprise, surprise.

“Once was enough, Miranda, don't push your luck.”

Miranda tried and failed to break my hold on her.

“No matter what you do, you are just a worthless omega Dante could never choose over me,” she spat out venomously. “Even when you were mated, he was with me. You were his duty; I am his wife.”

There was a part of me that her words cut deeply into. A very small part of me. The rest of me on the other hand couldn’t have cared less.

“I'll only say this once so listen carefully, Miranda,” I said impassively. “Unlike you, I have no interest in breaking up a mated couple or the throne. You can keep Dante. As far as I'm concerned, both of you deserve each other.”

I released her wrist.