Word Count: 2253

~Aesira

Suddenly, this seems like a very, very bad idea.

There is not a touch of doubt visible on Everin's face. He's looking at me like he truly believes he's just found his mate, and not like he's being tricked.

I take a slow step backward. I shouldn't have done this, but now, I can't take it back.

He takes a step toward me cautiously. I can practically see his mind working before a soft smile slowly spreads across his face.

"I knew it," he breathes.

My eyes widen as he advances on me. I step back until I'm pressed against the wall, his body crowding me.

He kisses me, hands gently cradling the side of my face. His lips are soft and the kiss is unbelievably tender, unlike how he's kissed me before.

He's kissing me like he loves me...

All thoughts melt out of my mind as I return his kiss. I know I shouldn't, that I should push him away, insist that this has been a mistake. Instead, I wrap my arms over his shoulders, digging my fingers into his hair.

"Ev..." I murmur against his mouth.

He deepens the kiss, pouring so much emotion into it that I feel a little ill. This feels terrible and amazing at the same time.

He pulls away, resting his forehead against mine. He's breathing heavily, and so am I.

I never thought about it before, but I think that were this not all a ruse, this would be the happiest moment of my life. I'm not sure what that means when it comes to Everin, but I'm beginning to understand why he feels the way he does about the mate bond.

These thoughts...they're confusing me. It's the sparks that Mason never told me I was going to feel. It was supposed to feel them...

"My mate. My precious, perfect mate," he breathes against my skin, peppering kisses against my cheeks, my jaw and my mouth.

I want to lean into this so desperately, but his proximity is making it difficult to think.

"This is too much." I press my hand into his shoulder, forcing him to back up a step.

"It's okay." He holds my face gently, eyes consumed with emotion. "Aesira, look at me."

I take him in, my entire body trembling. Every brush of his fingers against my skin I followed by powerful sparks. It makes is impossible to concentrate.

"You're my mate. I knew you were my mate." His thumb grazes along my cheekbone tenderly.

"What do you mean you knew?"

"You haven't felt it? The connection between us?" He angles his head,  "You're just shocked, sweetheart, I know. This is a lot to take in."

"It really is," I whisper.

Does he not doubt this at all? Is there not even a single part of him that might see this for the lie it is? Surely at the very least, I figured it would take him more than a few moments to come to terms with this.

Mason was right about him...

"Let me take you to my room. Let us talk," he says.

"Your room? Now?" My breath hitches at the implication. I can't let him take me to bed again, lest he makes love to me like last time. That screwed with my head enough as it is, and with these sparks, I don't want to take any chances.

Reading the apprehension on my face, he frowns.

"Yes, unless you're not comfortable with that? I understand this is overwhelming." He runs his hand down my arm. It seems he can't stop touching me, not letting me go for a moment, like I might vanish before his eyes.

I swallow thickly, my throat dry. I got myself into this mess—I can't run from it now.

"No...privacy will be good." I smile weakly.

Taking my hand, he leads me back to his room. My heart beats in my ears as I run through my plan.

I'm not ready for him to mark me tonight, even though he has to. I don't have much time with these sparks.

His reaction has really gotten to me. He was supposed to be shocked, not assured. He was supposed to be happy, but not elated.

It was all supposed to be easier than this.

When I step into his rooms, he takes hold of me again, drawing me in for another kiss. It makes my stomach ache with need, with desires I try so hard to keep pressed down.

"I'm sorry, I cannot help myself," he murmurs as he pulls away.

"I don't think I can stand," I admit, wavering a little.

"Sit, sit." He pulls me over the couch and I oblige him, sinking into the cushions. He sits next to me, holding my hand. "Take a breath and relax."

Nodding, I summon a breath, although I can't relax. My plan feels so wrong, yet what other choice do I have? I can't go back now. Not when Everin's rage would overcome him the moment he found out about my lie.

Being sent away to a lonely cottage at the edge of the pack would feel like a blessing...

"Are you disappointed?" I find myself asking.

He blinks, not quite understanding. "What?"

I turn my body to face him, feeling weirdly hollow. I shouldn't be asking further questions, making this seem more real than it is when the ruse has been pulled off, but I can't help myself.

A part of me wants this to be real.

"With me? Are you disappointed I've been who you've been searching for," I ask.

All I can think about is the male I first met, who I thought was ridiculous for having all these notions about the mate bond. He was willing to change to structure of his pack, of his leadership just to appease her. It seemed so foreign to me, that he could love someone that much.

Now, I'm supposed to be that person. Surely he must have reservations about our future.

Everin looks at me as if I've lost my mind.

"No, of course not. I have never been happier in my life," he insists earnestly.

"But you hate me, my father...all I've done—"

"Shh, it's okay," he breathes, squeezing my hand tightly. "I don't hate you. I never hated you."

It feels as if I've plunged into another reality. I haven't seen him like this before, and it hurts to know it's not really for me, but for the true mate he has out there somewhere.

The mate he will never find, because in a matter of hours, he's going to die.

"That can't be true," I say shakily.

"I haven't allowed myself to admit it, but I've been falling in love with you for a while now." He smiles gently. "Since I saw your injured body in bed before me, even."

My brows rise. This...I can't allow it to happen. I can't let him convince me that his feelings were so substantial. All this emotion has to be attributed purely to the faux mate bond.

"Everin, you can't love me."

"You're my mate. These feelings are natural," he assures me. "I would never have had the courage to admit them to you were it not for learning this tonight. Not when I..."

He drifts off, brows furrowing.

He's remembering that he's been planning to send me away, to put distance between us after I freed a guilty male and planned to flee.

"What happens now?" I ask tentatively.

His eyes shift to mine. "What do you wish to happen?"

"I don't know," I admit.

I should beg for the mark, right here, right now. I should get it over with, so my weakness cannot convince me out of it. Then I'll be free.

To ask for it, though, is proving more difficult than I thought. Where has my strength gone? Everin wants me to be a prisoner...

"You're overwhelmed, I understand." He rests his hand on my knee. "Tonight you rest in your own bed. We can speak about this in the light of day, let you wrap your head around it."

"You'll let me sleep in another bed tonight?"

"Of course." He shakes his head, like I'm ridiculous for asking. "I would prefer you in my arms, but we both need to a clear head tonight."

I breathe out slowly, relieved. Being in his presence is proving to be difficult, and the thought of having to sleep here when I can feel these sparks...I would lose my mind.

"What if I don't want this?" I question.

"If..." He breaks off, voice faltering. He clearly didn't consider that option, and now, just the mention of it has hurt spilling across his face.

Still, he fortifies himself with a breath. "I would accept that."

Then what would come of me?

"You would?"

"Your choice comes before all else," he states clearly.

I can his face, my entire body rejecting my thoughts. I want to lean into him, to enjoy this for as long as possible. I want to sink into the fantasy of being his mate, imagining what our life could be like now.

But I can't escape reality. Is breathes harshly down my neck, reminding me of why I've done this in the first place, reminding me that I never deserved to be mated to him in the first place.

"Will you mark me?" I force myself to say.

He tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "Yes, my love. I will mark you."

It takes everything in me not to lean into the touch.

"Now?" I ask breathlessly.

Please say no.

"You wish to bear my mark now?" His brows rise. "Aesira, it will be permanent."

"I know..." So much about him marking me will be permenant, including his death.

He winds his fingers through mine, a contemplative look coming about him. He's hesitating on marking me, for my sake. It would be so easy for him to lean over and do it now, but he can clearly sense my apprehension about all of this.

"You should think this through first. I want you to be absolutely sure," he states.

"But—"

"I want the moment to be special for you, okay?" His soft golden gaze brushes down to my neck. "This means more to me than you could ever realise. There is no rush."

Except there is a rush. I have only three days to make this work.

"Tomorrow then." I force a smile, trying to appear as sure as he wants to be.

He could see through this veneer of false happiness, but I know that some vulnerable part of him wants to believe I'm in love with him, that I want the mate bond, despite having said in the past that I have no interest in it.

"So I take it you accept this? Us?" He gestures between us, his breath held as he awaits my response.

"Yes, of course I do." I lean forward and kiss him again.

I hate how good it feels, how easy it is to sink into the pleasure of kissing him. It feels like what I was made to do, and yet, I know this privilege belongs to someone else.

That doesn't stop me from sweeping my tongue into his mouth, from gripping the muscle of his shoulders so tight I fear it might hurt him.

After a few moment, he gently pulls me away with a frustrated breath.

"We better stop there, Aesira." His gaze drops to my mouth, his face contorted in what appears to be pain. Holding himself back from me is an effort.

I shake my head a little, trying to knock some sense back into myself. "You're probably right..."

"I am the luckiest male in the world to have found you," he says, taking my hand, bringing it up to be kissed. "You are all I have ever wanted."

That cannot be true, yet I don't have the energy to disprove him.

"The sparks, they feel funny, don't they?" I whisper, watching his thumb brush over the top of my hand.

"I like that feeling. It feels right," he breathes.

It does feel right, and that scares me. Whatever concoction Mason mixed up is working far better than I anticipated.

"Should I go back to my room now?" I don't want to, but the longer I sit here, the easier it is to fall into the fantasy of him and I together.

"I would like to keep you in my bed for the next week, but I also want to take this slow with you," he says with a reluctant sigh. "There is a lot to consider."

"Yes. There really is." I stand, my legs feeling a little weak. I hope I can make it back up the stairs without incident.

Everin looks up at me. "Shall I walk you back to your room?"

"No, stay," I insist. "There's less temptation otherwise."

He stands and kisses me again. It's only light, chaste, a promise. Tomorrow we will have more time to talk.

"Goodnight, my mate." He gazes at me longingly, as if he

"Goodnight, Everin."

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