The Mate Switch

CHAPTER 6.

She wasn’t protecting the three delinquents that beat her to a pulp. No, that was not the reason she refused to tell Enrique who had attacked her. It was that she wanted to get revenge herself. Giselle wanted the satisfaction of looking them in the eyes when she ripped their world apart.

She could almost picture it, almost taste their despair as they descended into utter chaos.

“What on earth are you smiling about?”

She flinched at the sound of Enrique’s voice, unaware that she’d been unconsciously reveling about her evil intentions out in the open.

“Not-Nothing,” she stuttered, tugging at the hem of the big t-shirt hanging over her body. “Can’t a girl think about puppies and roses after a terrible ordeal?”

He wrinkled his face. “If you’re the girl in question, then no.”

She frowned, looking away. It was already bad enough that she’d let him save her, let him carry her all the way to his room, wash up in his bathroom and given her a change of clothes. It was bad enough that he was her mate.

Now, she was actually considering leaving him out of her plans.

He’s been nothing but nice to me, she scolded herself mentally. There was no need for her to feel bad about not wanting to hurt him when he’d carried her out of a pool of her own blood.

But what about other days?

What about before he found out she was his mate? When Gloria was here suffering, did he help? Did he ever lend her a hand?

Anger swelled up in her chest once more. They’re all the same. Every member of Darkhowl pack was going to pay, no matter who they were. Her mate or not, he was just as guilty as the rest of them.

Getting to her feet immediately, she barely turned his way before speaking, “Thanks for the help, I appreciate it, but…” she sucked in air, urging herself to finish the sentence as her wolf thrashed around inwardly. “I can take it from here.”

Enrique stood, looking crushed. “You’re not entirely healed. You should rest.”

His suggestion only fueled her rage. “Don’t tell me what to do?”

“What?”

“You think I have the luxury of resting?” she scoffed angrily. “I told you I’m a servant. Servants usually have tons of work to do.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said softly, “I’ll talk to my—to the Alpha.”

“Please, don’t,” she basically yelled. “Just because you’re an important member of the pack doesn’t mean you can do whatever you like. You’ll just make everything worse.”

“What is your problem?” Enrique demanded, his voice slightly raised. “All I’ve done is try to help. Why are you like this?”

“You really wanna know?”

“I’m dying to know!”

“Fine.” She huffed, gritting her teeth. “I am irrelevant in this pack. It doesn’t matter what you do or say, I will never be anything more than the maid. Nobody will care that I was beaten unconscious. Nobody will care if I’m too weak to clean. Nobody f*****g cares, and you know this. So I don’t understand why you are trying to make my life a lot more difficult.”

“Gloria, I’m just trying to help.”

“Don’t,” she yelled, mostly triggered from hearing her sister’s name. “Don’t help, Enrique. I will help myself.” She stalked towards the door.

“She’s lost it.” She heard him whisper behind her.

Refusing to turn around for one final acknowledgement, she stormed out of the room, a part of her collapsing in anguish as she put distance between herself and her mate. She was sure the part that hated it the most was her inner wolf.

It was barely ten minutes after she’d gotten away from Enrique that she came face to face with the last person she wanted to see at that very moment.

Elias stood before her, running her through with his eyes, which lingered on her chest longer than it should have. She shifted uncomfortably.

“Who’s shirt are you wearing?”

It was the last question she expected him to ask. Dropping her head to also take in her appearance, she couldn’t find the right words to explain. Or if she even cared enough to.

She ended up grunting in response. He didn’t like that, and he showed it by taking a fistful of her hair, twisting it until she could hardly feel the scalp.

“Elias, stop!”

Her wailing did little to appease him. Elias didn’t loosen his grip. If anything, Giselle’s whimper seemed to amuse him. He pulled tighter, harder.

“Elias, stop,” she gasped again, her nails digging into his wrist as pain flared across her scalp. Her wolf awoken instantly, snarling, demanding blood, demanding she tear his throat out, but Giselle forced her down.

Not now. Not here. Not yet.

“Where have you been?” Elias demanded, his breath hot against her ear. “Do you have any idea how much work there is today?”

“I—I was—”

His fingers twisted harder, yanking her head back until her neck burned. “Don’t lie,” he snapped. “My mother’s been looking for you.”

Giselle’s stomach dropped. Of course, Luna Iris had called for her. She just couldn’t catch a break in this place.

“I’ll take you to her,” Elias continued, his voice suddenly casual. Then he paused. His grip didn’t ease, but something sharp and possessive crept into his tone. “Actually… no.”

Fear crawled up Giselle’s spine as he dragged her down the corridor, her feet barely keeping up. “Elias,” she cried, panic slipping into her voice. “That’s the wrong way—why are we—”

“My room,” he said simply.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “No!” She struggled harder, pain tearing through her half-healed body. “Let go of me! You can’t—!”

He laughed, low and cruel. “Oh sweetheart, I can do whatever I want.”

Giselle let out a loud, desperate scream, hoping—stupidly—that someone would hear. No one came. Her wolf thrashed violently now, rage and terror knotting together. Kill him, she snarled. Rip him apart.

Soon, Giselle promised silently. Soon.

Elias shoved the door open and threw her inside like she weighed nothing. She hit the floor hard. The air left her lungs in a sharp wheeze as pain exploded through her side. Instinctively, she curled in on herself, her fingers clawing at the carpet.

“Well?” a woman’s voice snapped. “What is it now?”

Giselle lifted her head slowly, her vision swimming, just in time to see Celeste perched on the edge of Elias’s bed, her arms crossed, irritation etched into her beautiful, venomous face.

“She’s wearing Enrique’s shirt,” Elias said flatly.

Silence followed. Then laughter. Not remotely kind, or amused. Just annoyed.

Celeste looked Giselle over like she was dirt dragged in on a shoe. “And?”

Elias stiffened. “And?” he echoed. “Did you not hear me?”

“I did,” Celeste replied coolly. “I just don’t see why you’re worked up over it.”

His jaw flexed. “She’s a servant.”

“Yes,” Celeste agreed. “Which makes it pathetic, not threatening.”

Giselle’s fingers curled into the carpet.

“Unless,” Celeste continued slowly, her eyes narrowing—not at Giselle, but at Elias. “You’re jealous.”

He barked out a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Are you?”

“Of course not,” he snapped. “I don’t care about a lowly omega.”

Giselle lowered her head, her shoulders trembling deliberately. Inside, she was smiling.

Elias turned away from her and grabbed Celeste by the arm, pulling her closer. “Listen to me, baby,” he muttered. “Enrique’s back for a reason.”

Celeste’s amusement vanished instantly. “I know, but what does this have to do with her?”

“If he’s already asking questions,” Elias said. “Befriending the help—” He gestured vaguely toward Giselle. “She’s been here forever. If anyone knows things about this pack, it’s her.”

Giselle’s wolf went very, very still. They’re scared, her wolf whispered.

Celeste stood abruptly. “That’s unacceptable.”

She crouched in front of Giselle, her heels clicking softly against the floor. Her fingers closed around Giselle’s chin, forcing her head up.

“Look at me,” she ordered.

Giselle obeyed, letting her eyes go vulnerable and timid.

“You should stay away from Enrique,” the evil witch said calmly. “He’s not your friend.”

Giselle swallowed.

“He’s important,” Celeste continued. “You’re nothing.”

Each word was meant to hurt, carefully sharpened, her eyes filled with hate and resentment. She wanted to show Giselle who was superior. Definitely not you, Giselle whispered in her mind.

“This?” Celeste flicked the fabric of the oversized shirt. “This is a mistake. One that could get you killed.”

Giselle nodded weakly. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“Of course, you did,” Elias scoffed. “Girls like you always do.”

Celeste shot him a warning look before returning her attention to Giselle. “He’s using you,” she said softly. “Men like him don’t see servants. They see tools. Trust me, I know men.”

Something hot and vicious coiled in Giselle’s chest. Liar, her wolf hissed.

“I understand,” Giselle whispered.

Celeste studied her for a long moment, searching for defiance. She found none. “Good,” she said at last. “Because if I see you near him again—”

She leaned in close, her lips brushing Giselle’s ear.

“I’ll make sure I finish the job next time.” She straightened and turned to Elias. “Take her back downstairs. She’s a very busy girl.”

Elias hauled Giselle to her feet again, dragging her toward the door. As he shoved her into the hallway, he leaned down and murmured, “Stay in your place.”

Giselle stumbled away without looking back, cowering as she made her way to the kitchen. But inside, everything had changed.

They weren’t angry because of a shirt. They were afraid of Enrique, and that meant he was far more dangerous than she’d ever imagined.

We need him, her wolf said quietly.

Giselle clenched her fists. “No,” she whispered back. “I need answers.”

And she was going to bleed Darkhowl dry to get them.