True Mate
1641 Words
ZYLIA
The penthouse elevator climbed so high I was sure we'd pierce the clouds.
My ears popped somewhere around the fortieth floor, and my wolf, still raw from what happened earlier, pressed closer to the surface with each passing second.
His actions showed he knew what happened, how I was able to have control over them both.
Lorcan had stressed that it was because of what I went through today that caused all the reaction but something within me disputed that.
Dylan had left in anger the minute I told him I didn’t want him and Lorcan was all I wanted even though it was all a lie.
My wolf hated Dylan but I still had a soft spot for him.
She wanted out. She wanted to claim territory, mark boundaries, do all the things a Luna should do in her new home.
Except this wasn't really my home. This was a business arrangement with a two-year expiration date.
The elevator doors whispered open to reveal luxury that made my pack's old territory look like a homeless shelter.
Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the entire city, lights twinkling like fallen stars.
The furniture probably cost more than my pack's annual budget, and everything was sleek, modern, intimidating as hell.
"Welcome home," Lorcan said, but his voice carried no warmth.
"Temporary home," I corrected, stepping onto marble floors that reflected my battle-torn appearance.
Blood still stained my blue dress, and my hair hung in tangled waves around my shoulders.
"Nineteen months, to be precise." He shrugged out of his jacket, revealing a white shirt that clung to muscles I definitely shouldn't be noticing. "That's how long we have to produce an heir."
The words hit like ice water. "Nineteen months?"
"The Council's requirement. Royal bloodlines can't remain... inactive indefinitely." His golden eyes swept over me with clinical assessment. "Don't worry. The process doesn't have to be unpleasant."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "You're talking about this like breeding livestock."
"Aren't we?" He moved to a bar cart that probably cost more than a car, pouring amber liquid into crystal glasses. "This is a contract, Miss... Mrs. Callahan. Emotions only complicate business."
Mrs. Callahan. The name felt foreign to my ears, like wearing someone else's skin.
He handed me a glass. "Whiskey. You look like you need it."
I did. The alcohol burned down my throat, but it was nothing compared to the fire building in my chest every time he looked at me.
"Dinner's in an hour," he continued. "We should discuss ground rules."
"Rules?"
"Boundaries. Expectations. How we'll handle public appearances versus private arrangements." He settled into a leather chair that screamed wealth. "This marriage only works if we're both clear on what it is."
And what it isn't.
He didn't say the words, but they hung in the air between us like smoke.
The dining room could have seated twenty people comfortably. Instead, we sat at opposite ends of a table long enough to land a small plane, picking at food I couldn't taste.
"Rule one," Lorcan said, cutting into his steak with surgical precision. "Public displays of affection are required. Hand-holding, brief kisses, the appearance of a loving couple."
My fork paused halfway to my mouth. "And in private?"
"We maintain separate spaces. Separate lives. Minimal interaction unless necessary."
"Separate bedrooms?"
"Unfortunately, no." Something flickered in his expression. "The staff will talk if we don't share a room. Gossip reaches the Council faster than official reports."
My wolf perked up with interest. I told her to sit down and shut up.
"Rule two," he continued. "No emotional attachments. This is business."
"Right. Business." I took another sip of wine, hoping it would dull the way my pulse jumped whenever he said my name. "What about rule three?"
"Absolute fidelity." His voice turned deadly serious. "I wasn't kidding about the contract clause, Zylia. One indiscretion, and your pack dies."
The threat should have made me angry. Instead, it sent an unwelcome thrill down my spine. Possessive bastard.
"You've been watching me." The accusation slipped out before I could stop it.
He went still. "Excuse me?"
"At the gala. You knew exactly where to find me, exactly what to say. You knew about my pack's financial problems before Simone even told me." I leaned forward, studying his face. "How long, Lorcan?"
For a moment, he didn't answer. Then: "Six months."
"Six months?" My voice climbed. "You've been stalking me for six months?"
"Monitoring," he corrected coolly. "Dylan was making a mess of things. I wanted to know what kind of woman could hold his interest for so long."
"And?"
"You deserved better than my worthless brother." The words came out rough, unguarded. "Watching him treat you like... like you were disposable. It was beneath our bloodline."
Something warm unfurled in my chest. "You were protecting me?"
"I was protecting my family's reputation." He spoke defiantly but his eyes said something different.
For the rest of the dinner, neither of us said any more thing. I had a lot to say and a lot to question but I decided to let it slide at that moment.
The bedroom was ridiculous. King-sized bed covered in silk sheets, walk-in closet bigger than my old apartment, bathroom that belonged in a five-star spa. And one problem.
One bed.
"I can sleep on the couch," I offered, though the leather monstrosity in the sitting area looked about as comfortable as a park bench.
"Don't be ridiculous." Lorcan emerged from the closet wearing nothing but sleep pants that hung low on his hips.
I tried not to stare. Well, I failed spectacularly.
"We're adults, Zylia. We can share a bed without..." He gestured vaguely between us.
"Without what?"
"Without complicating things."
Right. Because the electric shock when we kissed wasn't complicated enough.
I changed in the bathroom, emerging in an oversized t-shirt that hit mid-thigh.
Lorcan's eyes tracked my movement across the room, and I felt his gaze like a physical touch.
"This is insane," I muttered, pulling back the covers on my side of the bed.
"Which part? The contract marriage or the sharing a bed with a stranger?"
"All of it." I slipped between silk sheets.
"Three days ago, I thought Dylan was going to propose. Now I'm married to his brother and sleeping in a penthouse."
"Life has a twisted sense of humor." The bed dipped as he settled on his side, careful to maintain distance between us.
But distance didn't matter. His scent, cedar and power and something uniquely him, surrounded me like a drug.
My wolf stretched contentedly, like she'd finally found where she belonged.
Traitor.
"Zylia." His voice was softer in the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"For what it's worth... Dylan's loss was my gain."
I turned toward him, and found him already facing me. In the dim light from the city outside, his golden eyes seemed to glow.
"Lorcan..."
"This doesn't change anything," he whispered, but he was moving closer. "Still just business."
"Right. Business." My hand found his chest and felt his heart hammering against his ribs.
"Just getting it out of our systems."
"Exactly."
His fingers tangled in my hair, and I forgot how to breathe. When his lips touched mine, the world exploded into sensation.
This wasn't the brief shock from our wedding kiss. This was fire and lightning and something that felt like coming home after a lifetime of being lost.
My wolf howled with recognition, with rightness, pressing against my consciousness with desperate need.
Lorcan's phone rang.
We broke apart like we'd been burned, both breathing hard. He grabbed the phone from the nightstand, his voice rough when he answered.
"This better be important, Ridley."
I couldn't hear the response, but I watched Lorcan's face change. Concern. Then something darker.
"When?" A pause. "All of them? s**t. Set up the meeting for tomorrow at dawn. And Ridley? Make sure security is tripled."
He hung up, ran a hand through his dark hair.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"The Council's called an emergency session. There's been a challenge to my authority." His golden eyes met mine.
"Another Alpha King is making a play for North American territory."
My blood chilled. "What does that mean for us?"
"It means our marriage just became more than a business arrangement." He stood, pacing to the window. "It means I need you to be more than just a contract wife."
I followed him, drawn by something I couldn't name. "Lorcan, what aren't you telling me?"
He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn't answer. Then I heard him speak quietly into his phone: "The Moon bloodline is more powerful than we thought. Yes, more powerful than we ever imagined."
Moon bloodline. My mother's family.
"Lorcan." I touched his arm, and electricity shot between us again. "What do you know about my mother?"
He turned, and before I could blink, his mouth was on mine again. Desperate this time, hungry, like he was drowning and I was air.
My wolf surged forward, stronger than she'd ever been. And in the deepest part of my mind, I heard her whisper words that made my blood turn to ice:
He's our true mate. Dylan was never meant to be ours.
I gasped, pulling back. "That's impossible. You can't have two fated mates..."
Lorcan went dead still. His eyes widened as he stared at my face.
"Zylia." His voice was barely a whisper.
"Your eyes. They just turned gold."
"What?" I spun toward the mirror across the room, and my reflection stopped my heart.
Golden eyes stared back at me. Not human gold. Wolf gold. Alpha gold.
"That's impossible," Lorcan breathed.
"Unless you're...."
He didn't finish the sentence.
“I’m what? Is there something you are not telling me?” I probed but he looked away almost immediately.
“Somethings are rather left unsaid.”
- Writer
