I dont do mate
1283 Words
Chapter 2
Tessa’s POV
His presence was overwhelming, powerful in a way that made my knees weaken instantly. It wasn’t just his looks, though those alone could have left me breathless. The sharp lines of his jaw, the way his dark hair curled slightly at the ends, those piercing blue eyes that seemed to strip away every layer of my being. He radiated authority, the kind that made people step aside without him even asking.
I wanted to move, wanted to regain control of my body, but my legs wobbled. The room spun, my vision blurred, and before I could catch myself.
Strong hands gripped my waist.
My breath hitched.
Tyler had caught me.
The scent of him hit me instantly, woodsy, with a hint of something dangerously intoxicating. His hold was firm yet effortless, like he wasn’t even trying. For a split second, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes, something unreadable. Then, as if he had already decided I wasn’t worth his time, he smirked.
And winked.
He just Winked at me!
Before I could process what had just happened, he released me and turned away, walking off like nothing had happened.
I stood there, stunned, unable to move or even breathe. The world around me faded, reduced to nothing but the lingering ghost of his touch.
“Tessa,” Emily’s sharp voice shattered the moment.
I turned just in time for her to shove past me, her shoulder slamming into mine. The glares from her groupies told me everything I needed to know.
I had just ruined something for Emily. And she was going to make me pay for it.
After class, the moment the final bell rang, I knew I was in trouble.
Emily was waiting for me.
She wasted no time. The second I stepped out of the classroom, she grabbed my wrist and yanked me into the nearest empty hallway.
“You just love ruining things for me, don’t you?” she sneered.
I didn’t bother fighting. It wouldn’t make a difference. “I didn’t do anything.”
Her grip tightened. “Oh, really? Because I was talking to Tyler, and guess who decided to show up and faint like some pathetic damsel?”
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way my wrist ached under her grip. “I didn’t know—”
A slap landed across my cheek, sharp and quick.
“Liar,” she spat. “You think you’re special just because some teachers like your stupid drawings? Let me make something clear, Tessa. Tyler is mine. You? You’re nothing.”
I refused to look at her. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing the sting in my eyes.
“Tomorrow,” she said, her voice laced with venom, “I’m going to make sure you regret ever thinking you could stand in my way.”
With that, she let go and walked away, leaving me standing there, face burning from both the slap and humiliation.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to keep walking.
Tomorrow couldn’t be worse than today, right?
—
The next day, I was wrong.
The entire school had gathered in the art room, the hall buzzing. Students lined up, whispering in excitement as they waited for the competition to start.
Emily and I stood side by side, facing the identical blank canvases.
I could feel the weight of their expectations, except none of them were on me. Everyone wanted Emily to win. They were only here for her.
I wasn’t even supposed to exist.
I inhaled deeply, pushing the nerves aside. This was my thing. My escape. Emily could take everything else from me, but not this.
The competition began.
Pencils scratched against paper, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. My fingers moved instinctively, sketching delicate strokes, bringing my vision to life.
Halfway through, something made me look up.
Tyler.
He was standing near the back, arms crossed, watching me.
And he was smiling.
My heart stuttered.
A mistake. My hand slipped, smudging a line I had meant to keep crisp.
Focus, Tessa.
I forced myself to keep going, blocking out everything else.
When time was up, I leaned back, chest rising and falling rapidly. I glanced at Emily’s work. It was stunning, as always, but something about it felt forced, too polished, too perfect.
Ms. Porter examined both pieces carefully before turning to face the class.
“The winner is,” she swallowed hard for a moment. “The winner is…..Tessa.” She announced.
Silence fall into the room followed by disbelief whisper.
The students weren’t happy. They had expected Emily to win.
Only one person clapped.
Tyler.
The sound echoed in the room, slow and deliberate.
My breath caught as I met his gaze, and suddenly, I knew.
He was my mate.
My wolf screamed at me, bubbling with happiness but I wasn’t.
Because Tyler wasn’t clapping like a mate would.
He was clapping like someone entertained.
Like someone who had found something interesting, but not important.
Reality crashed down on me.
Maybe he didn’t feel it. He didn’t recognize me as his mate?
I swallowed down the lump in my throat.
I should have been happy that I won.
But for some reason, it felt like I had lost.
—
Getting Home. I should have known better than to expect peace.
The moment I opened the door to my house, I was met with disaster.
Furniture overturned. Papers scattered. The lingering smell of sweat and alcohol.
It had happened again. My father’s gambling agents had come. A sharp headache formed at my temples as I stepped over broken glass, heart sinking.
A familiar figure stumbled inside from the back door.
My father.
His face was gaunt, eyes red-rimmed, and his shirt was stained with something I didn’t want to identify.
“Tessa,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “I need money.”
My stomach twisted. “I don’t have any.”
“Please,” he begged, stepping closer. His hands shook, whether from withdrawal or desperation, I didn’t know. “They’re going to kill me.”
He said this every time. And every time, I gave him whatever little I had, thinking maybe, just maybe, he would change, he’d end up crumbling back to me for more.
But tonight is different. I don’t have anything to give.
I turned on my heel and walked out, slamming the door behind me.
I strolled on the street for a while before I decided to branch at the bar.
I had never been inside a bar before.
The music was too loud, the moment I stepped in, the scent of alcohol and sweat swept my nostril.
I sat at a corner, barely hesitating before ordering a drink. The first sip burned down my throat, making my eyes water, but I welcomed the sting.
One drink turned into two. Then three.
Everything blurred.
A presence settled beside me, but I didn’t look up until a familiar voice spoke.
“Didn’t take you for the type to drink.”
Tyler. I recommend his voice almost immediately.
I blinked at him, my vision slightly hazy. He looked even more unreal under the dim bar lights, his smirk both amused and knowing.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
And then, before I could stop myself, I whispered, “You’re my mate.”
Tyler didn’t flinch. Didn’t react like someone who just heard something.
Instead, his smirk widened.
He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against my ear.
“That’s cute,” he murmured.
Then he pulled back, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
“But I don’t do mates.”
- Writer
