His Little Fae

Terrifying Truths

"There are two kinds of loneliness,

One you feel when you're alone,

And the other in a crowded room,

When you realize you're the only person who knows what it's like to be you."
_______________________

Oh goddess, I was angry.

I could feel my emotions running through me, igniting my frustration, and tapping on my magic. Asking it to come out. Urging it.

But I held it back.

I had to.

That was the deal.

"Have you given up, my love?" King Livius asked, cocking his head, churning blue eyes regarding me curiously as he breathed heavily and stared down at me.

I glowered up at him.

"I'd never," I growled.

Slowly getting up, I watched as he chuckled lowly, shaking his head at my determination, and my anger spiked.

Funny how people say mates "calm each other down".

If anything, he was the center of my frustration.

This is what happens when I come down to the training grounds whilst my mate was training his wolves.

Looking around, I met the gazes of the shocked wolves that watched us. They probably thought this was a simple test of strength. A playful spar.

I scoffed at the thought.

We were fighting to get the other to submit.

I'm not lying when I say that we're both too overbearing to even be in the same room.

The only reason I was down here was because Jayden's mate, Elle, a stunning she-wolf with platinum blonde hair and pale unblemished skin, had recommended it. She said it'd help me "get to know the pack lands."

When I agreed, I didn't think he'd be down here too.

I've only been here for two days, and yet it somehow felt like weeks since I'd arrived at this ridiculously large castle.

I'd barely interacted with him. Instead always choosing to blatantly ignore him whenever he addressed me. Luckily he didn't get angry, but my heart did drop whenever he touched me.

He frightened me.

But I wouldn't let him know that.

That was why we were "sparring" right now. A small, angry part of me needed some type of proof that I could still fight him, that I'm not completely terrified of his power.

Inhaling deeply, I refocused on the man before me, eyes taking in his form.

We had made a deal.

He was so confident he'd win that he had carelessly promised to allow my return to the United States. If I won. However, if I were to lose to him, I'd have to "greet the new Alpha that was arriving today."

Well that was what he had said.

Translation: You're going to stand my side, hold my hand, smile, and behave like my mate should.

And my dumb ass agreed.

What kind of agreement was this? I was probably going to lose, and end up meeting the alpha one way or another, so I might as well try to beat up my mate in the process.