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.

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

shouldn’t have brought it up.

guess Aaron is your

“I’m sorry, too.”

for a moment,

me what’s really going on between

nodded, my chest tightening at the challenge of putting my feelings into words. Gemma was the only person I could

me to

I’ll go.” She 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 glossy with

“Gemma?”

“He’s my mate, Maeve.”

“Who? Ernest?!”

again, a slight smile

you guys are

“No. No, we’re not.”

been waiting to

doesn’t feel

eyes on him, the very second I walked through the doors of the castle. But thinks—

what did

it. He wanted

the queen of

I was sure we were mates. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there looking like he was about to cry. And then he got..

not having anything to say? Ernest,

doesn’t sound like him

told me it’s not safe to be around

kind of

what to do. It happened a few days before we went to the social and … I tried as hard as I could to keep him off my mind, but the pull-oh, Goddess, the mate bond is so strong. I couldn’t

“So, you’re sure?”

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Don’t

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She was sure. I could tell by the look behind her

out what his deal

you can’t. It

think it matters

here, needing a breeder to give Ernest an heir? Don’t see you? I can’t act on this even if he felt the

I said, my hands shaking slightly. “A mate

know that’s not

said, standing and stepping toward her. My heart was pounding against my chest, my blood thrumming in 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 of this castle, tonight, nursing my broken heart on the journey home

grabbed my arm as I tried to push past her, her fingernails digging into my skin as I tried to pull away. “Don’t,

“What problems with Aaron?”

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

crossing my arms over

“Did we… summon them?”

was replaced with his teasing

here?” Ernest asked, gripping the back of one of the wicker chairs. He glanced over

Ernest with every 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

forearm as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I need to

my room last night like I had the plague, or something. Let go! I need

was seated, Gemma sitting on the couch across from him, the two of them leaning into the empty space between

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

glass door, fumbling against the weight of it. Aaron was right behind me, of course, and he put his hands on the glass to help me ease the sticky door open, his breath tickling the back of my

whisper as the door slid open. I stepped into the corridor and began to walk toward the stairwell, taking long strides despite the fact that Aaron could keep up with me with his

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

are we doing in here, Aaron?” I asked, coughing asl inhaled and my nose filled with the sharp scent of floor polish. The door had

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16: Don’t Say My

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