Chapter 10: My Mate
Vivian Grey’s POV
The smugness dripping from his tone made me scowl. He knew I was trapped here. He knew I had no real choice, and he clearly enjoyed rubbing that in.
"Fine," I mumbled, trailing after him as he led the way out the door. I made a conscious effort not to stare at the way those black jeans hugged his hips, and oh goddess, focus.
As we walked down the hall, I bit my lip, debating whether to say something or just stay quiet. Curiosity and maybe stubbornness won.
"Hey," I called out, "what exactly do you plan to do with me now that I’m here? I’ve got college plans, y’know. I don’t intend on being stuck here forever."
He stopped and turned slowly, looking back at me like I was a fly buzzing around his head.
"I know, I know," I said quickly, throwing up air quotes. "You’re not leaving, blah blah blah. Doesn’t mean I agree." I added a mock eye-roll just to annoy him.
He didn’t take the bait.
"How old are you?" he asked instead.
"Eighteen," I said sharply, arms crossing again. "Why?"
His expression faltered for a fraction of a second, just enough for me to see it. Disappointment. Disapproval? I didn’t like it either way.
"You’re young. You’re not going to college," he said bluntly, as if the matter was settled.
What?
"Wait. Wait! Hold up!" I darted in front of him. "What do you mean I’m not going to college? Last time I checked, I didn’t need your permission to live my life. Eighteen means I’m legally an adult."
My voice was rising with every word. Who the hell did he think he was?
The male who will shape our future, my wolf whispered, purring at the back of my mind.
Traitor.
Shut up, I snapped inwardly.
"We have colleges here," Zaliver said coolly. "But since there are men, you aren’t going. And you won’t need to work for anything anyway."
He tried to move past me again, but I stood my ground, jaw clenched.
"Why does it matter if there are guys? I’m not going to stay in this place forever, and I do need to work. You think I’m just gonna sit around all day doing nothing? Is that really what you expect of me?"
And honestly, yeah, that did sound kind of nice, having everything taken care of, not having to stress about money or bills. But at what cost? My freedom? My pride?
There’s nothing wrong with being someone’s partner or even staying home, but that had to be my choice, not his.
"Look," I said, voice softening just a little, "I don’t know what kind of twisted version of this mate bond you’re aiming for, but let me tell you what I do know. You said you weren’t going to mark me. That’s a rejection, plain and simple. And I’m not going to live with someone who doesn’t even want me."
My throat tightened with the words. I curled my hands into fists, trying not to let the hurt show on my face. It was one thing to be kidnapped, but to be unwanted too? That kind of pain festered.
He lifted his head, eyes going skyward, and let out a deep, exasperated sigh. I found myself staring at the strong column of his throat, smooth and begging to be nipped. My gums tingled, the primal urge to claim humming just under my skin.
I licked my teeth, trying to calm myself down. This wasn’t the time.
Then our eyes locked, his stormy blue, mine a stubborn brown, and something shifted in the air between us. Heat crawled over my skin like a phantom caress. My face, my arms, my back, all of it felt like it was being brushed by warm hands. It wasn’t invasive. It was intimate.
I shivered. My breath hitched.
He hadn’t touched me again, not physically. But somehow, I knew it was him. That teasing look in his eyes, the way he tilted his head slightly, he was doing this on purpose.
My eyes widened, lips parting slightly. He leaned in, so close I could feel his breath brushing against my skin. Whatever magic was between us tilted my chin up toward his.
"Let me make one thing very clear to you, Vivian," he whispered, voice low and raw. "You. Are. Mine. With or without the mark."
And then he smirked, the kind of smirk that made my heart leap and my pride want to slap it right off his perfect face.
The worst part?
Somewhere deep inside, despite everything, I didn’t hate it.
"They thought they could use you against me. Fools," Zaliver said, a dark smirk tugging at his lips. "They handed me something far more valuable than they could ever comprehend. And the fact that you’re still untouched by this corrupted world? That’s just icing on the cake. You were made for a god, Vivian."
His eyes flashed with something primal, something possessive.
"And this god will burn the world down before letting anyone take you away. Even you."
His words echoed in my head like a storm. Then, as quickly as the tension had risen, he leaned back. The heat, the tingling that had sparked along my skin under his gaze, vanished. I felt disoriented, like he’d stolen all the air from my lungs and left me floating. With or without a mark, I was his?
Before I could make sense of it, he tugged me gently by the hand and led me down a corridor. We stopped at a room that looked more like a giant den or game lounge than a living space.
The second we stepped in, the chatter stopped. Silence blanketed the air. Heads turned. Eyes landed on us. There were at least a dozen people, tall, fit men and sharp-eyed women dressed in all black. Different skin tones, different builds, but they all had the same poised, alert aura. As one, they stood and bowed their heads.
"Alpha Lupus," they greeted in unison.
I instinctively wanted to shrink behind Zaliver, but I forced myself to stay where I was. My palm started to sweat in his grip, and I tried pulling away, embarrassed. He didn’t let go, just squeezed it tighter. Of course they all noticed. A murmur swept through them, or maybe just a collective widening of eyes and raised brows.
Zaliver’s voice rang out, steady and commanding. "This is Vivian. My mate."
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