Chapter 16: Don’t Say My Name

Maeve

“He just left? Just got up and left?” Gemma picked at her fingernails, looking over at me from perch on the couch. We were in the atrium, a towering four-story high addition to the backside of the castle where the windows stretched to the ceiling and almost microscopic hoses ran along the beams, showering hundreds of plants in a steady flow of mist. It was what I imagined a jungle would look and feel like.

I fingered one of the leaves of a massive Monstera vine, marveling at the size of a leaf before turning to Gemma and taking a seat at on a wicker lounge chair across from her, folding my hands in my lap. “I don’t think he even, uh, finished?”

Seriously?” She sat up a little straighter, her eyes wide.

“I mean, I don’t know…”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No! Nothing. He just left. I haven’t even seen him since last night. Maybe it wasn’t… good? Good enough for him?”

Gemma rolled her eyes, “Maeve, come on. Ask any man what constitutes good sex and they will say sex in general!”

I blushed, pressing my hands between my thighs. “I must have done something wrong.”

I definitely felt like I had done something wrong. I knew I had been difficult; he had made that very clear. We had ended up in a tangle of sheets on the floor, and not in a sexy way. Oh, yeah, it was my fault. He was expecting me to be submissive, unyielding. I had failed.

“It’s not your fault,” Gemma said gently, her eyes piercing mine as she willed me to believe her. “Something’s up with that guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is not what I thought he’d be. Nothing like the Aaron I met when his family visited Winter Forest.”

“Come on, Gem! I told you it’s been ten years since-”

“He looks nothing like he should, Maeve! He was a blond! Kind of a weakling!”

“Who says hair color can’t change? Rowan’s hair was nearly as light as mine until he reached his twenties. Now it’s as dark as Dad’s!”

“His eyes, Maeve? Don’t you think we both would’ve remembered those eyes? How often do you meet someone with eyes of two different colors, hmm?”

“Well, do you remember what his eyes looked like, Gemma? I don’t! He told me they got more pronounced as he got older-”

“Oh please, how is that even possible?”

paused, biting my lip.

“It’s not possible!”

“What are you saying, Gemma? Do you think he’s not that he’s not Aaron? Who else could he be?”

“I don’t know! I’m only saying he rubs me the wrong way, okay? Like he’s hiding something.”

“I think you’re the one hiding something!” I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes at her.

She arched her brow, leaning forward in her chair. I was being defensive, trying to cover my own shame and suspicion by bringing up the one thing I currently had against her. It was a dance we’d done since my childhood, really. Gemma would try to talk some sense into me, and I would clam up, my only option being to accept defeat or throw it back at her. I never accepted defeat.

“Why are you defending Aaron when he—”

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Chapter 16: Don’t Say My Name

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“Why was your sweater in Ernest’s office?”

She blanched, the color draining from her cheeks as she abruptly looked away from me, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What did he say about it?”

“He looked guilty and embarrassed,” I said, trying to remain heated, but my mouth was twitching into a smile, a laugh choking me.

could see the same look of embarrassment lingering behind her eyes, mingled with

I shouldn’t have brought

guess Aaron is your

“I’m sorry, too.”

for a moment, silence passing between

in his office if you tell me what’s really going on between you and Aaron,” she said, her tone serious and her expression

challenge of putting my feelings into words. Gemma was the

want me to

stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of me, looking down at the ground. She came to a stop, rounding on me, her eyes

“Gemma?”

“He’s my mate, Maeve.”

“Who? Ernest?!”

nodded, her face pinking again, a slight smile

are

“No. No, we’re not.”

You’ve been waiting to feel

doesn’t feel

I laid eyes on him, the very second I walked through the doors of the castle. But thinks— I’ve been flirting with him, trying to get a reaction out of

what did

liked it. He

the queen of dragging things along to keep her

He didn’t say anything. He just sat there looking like he was about to cry. And then he

not having anything to say? Ernest,

doesn’t sound like him

not safe to be around him. I couldn’t believe it, you know, this is Ernest we’re talking about.

kind of

him off my mind, but the pull-oh, Goddess, the mate bond is so strong. I couldn’t even dance with that guy I met

“So, you’re sure?”

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16: Don’t Say

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in the eyes, deadly serious. She was sure. I could tell by the look behind her eyes

find out what his deal is,” I said

you can’t. It

think it matters

were misting with tears. “And if we are mates, Maeve? What then? What would be the reasoning for you even being here, needing a breeder to

said, my hands shaking slightly. “A mate bond overrides my

that’s not

my ears. Oh, my Goddess. Gemma and Ernest. If Gemma was Ernest’s mate, then they could have the heir. There’d be no need for me to be here. I would have no need of a breeder. I could walk out

skin as I tried to pull away. “Don’t, Maeve. I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t going

“What problems with Aaron?”

inside of my lower lip to stop it from trembling and giving my true feelings away. She opened her mouth to speak, but we were suddenly interrupted by the glass door of the atrium sliding open, humid air rushing out into the corridor in a burst

said, crossing my arms over my chest as

“Did we… summon them?”

which instantly evaporated and was replaced with his teasing arched brow

doing in here?” Ernest asked, gripping the back of one of the wicker chairs. He glanced over at Gemma, a soft smile on his lips, and she blushed,

intention of dragging him out of the atrium and into his office to demand an explanation from him as to why he didn’t feel a mate bond with

front of me, grabbing me by the forearm as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I need to

do that before you ran out of my room last night like I had the plague,

from him, the two of them leaning into the empty space between them as they spoke in

me, a sly smile on his face. “I don’t think

the weight of it. Aaron was right behind me, of course, and he put his hands on the glass to help me

to walk toward the stairwell, taking long strides despite the fact that Aaron could keep up with me with his normal

by the collar of my T-shirt and damn near tossing me into a darkened, rarely used sitting room off the backside of

we doing in here, Aaron?” I asked, coughing asl inhaled and my nose filled with the sharp scent of floor polish. The door had been left ajar, likely to air it out after a

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