Chapter 150
KASMINE
The doorknob turned.
My heart sank. My breath froze in my chest like ice splintering through my lungs.
I whipped my head around, scanning the room. It was small, pathetic, and cramped. One window nailed shut. No back door. No closet to hide in. And, stupidly, stupidly, I hadn’t even locked the damn door when Jake left.
It creaked open slowly, like the beginning of a horror movie where the girl never survives. Except this wasn’t fiction. This was my life. My reality. My punishment
And there stood.
Kester my so–called mate.
Tall, Lethal. Beautiful in that cruel, haunting way only the devil himself could be.
The scent hit me harder. It was strong, smoky, and spicy. Masculine, wild, and so mine.
My body betrayed me on the spot,
My traitorous wolf, Zera, whimpered inside me, “Mate. Mate.”
No. Not now. Not this time.
But Kester saw it all – the flicker in my eyes, the way my knees trembled, and the flush that crept up my neck. He smiled. That goddamn arrogant smirk he always had on when he knew I’d been cornered.
He stood calmly for a second or two, hands by his sides.
“Good to see you again, mate,” he said with a grin as he stepped into the small room, closing the door behind him,
“What the hell are you doing here? How did you find me, Kester?” I demanded, trying to summon steel into my voice, but it came out soft, tired, and too vulnerable.
The pull of the bond was almost too overwhelming for me. I felt like jumping on him, wrapping my legs around him, and Inhaling his scent like a greedy child.
God, his scent was overly intoxicating.
His eyes drank me in. “You are now mine, baby. You can’t run away from me, you know that, right?” He stepped closer, “Besides, you don’t think I’d keep my eyes off you when you have my child growing inside you.”
My eyes kept betraying me as they kept drifting to the shopping bag he had in his hand. I swallowed hard, wondering what was in the bag that smelt so good. My stomach clenched. I hated how hungry I suddenly felt. He noticed
“You haven’t been eating right,” he said as he placed the bag on the table, his eyes never leaving mine. “I can smell it on you–weakness. Exhaustion. You’re not taking care of our baby.”
“Get out, Kester. I don’t want to see you,” I pointed toward the door, even though we both knew it was a useless gesture. My voice cracked inld–command, and that was all the weakness he needed
He moved, and in a few steps, he was inches from me. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his hodi like a fire I desperately wanted to touch and run from at the same time.
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Chapter 150
“Come here, baby,” he pulled me by my wrist in one hard yank. I stumbled and almost fell, but I was quick enough to place my hands on his shoulders before I crashed into him.
I hated the way I melted just by touching him. Hated the way my body remembered his. Hated that I still wanted to curl into him and breathe him in like he was the only thing keeping me alive.
“Let go o
of me,” I whispered, even though my hands stayed where they were.
His gaze dropped to my lips and then back to my eyes.
“You’re not going anywhere, Kasmine,” he said tenderly. “Not now. Not ever.”
My pulse thundered in my ears while Zera howled in my chest.
“He’s ours. Take him. Touch him. Just once. Please.”
I pushed her back with everything I had.
“You don’t own me, Kester.” I spat, but he only chuckled.
“You still believe that, Kasmine? I own you now, baby. I own everything about you now. Including the breath you take. Eate has decided. You have no choice here, love.” He said, still gazing into my eyes intently, “It’s not like you had a choice before now.”
“You lost the right to say all that to me the moment you
“The moment I what?” he growled, tightening his grip just slightly. “Chose to protect you in a way you didn’t understand? Chose to do the right thing in order for me to finally be able to keep you?”
God. His voice. So calm it was maddening. So sure, so steady. As if he truly believed he was doing the right thing. But I wasn’t a child. And I wasn’t weak. Not anymore.
I swallowed the storm rising in my throat and slowly pried my wrist from his grasp.
“You need to go.
Kester tilted his head and gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Eat something first.” He gestured to the bag.
“I’m not eating anything you bring me,” I said, but even a child would see that I was sincerely hungry for whatever was contained in that bag.
As if he sensed the cracks spiderwebbing through my pride, Kester dipped his hand into the bag with that maddening calm of his.
I watched him, arms crossed tightly over my chest, trying to suppress the groan in my stomach that had turned vicious the moment the scent of food hit me.
And God, it hit like a storm.
He pulled out a small, rectangular box wrapped in clean parchment paper. The scent hit me first–rich, buttery, stnoky, with the faintest trail of herbs and roasted meat.
My stomach growled – loudly.
It was mortifying,
I turned my head, pretending I hadn’t heard it. Pretending wasn’t now eyeing the contents of the bar like a
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starving woman eyeing her last meal.
But Kester heard. Of course, he did. His smirk deepened as he set the first box on the table and reached into the bag again.
He pulled out a second parcel, unwrapped it, and the aroma slapped me in the face.
Meat pies.
But not just any meat pies. Not the bland, floury ones Jake had been trying to convince me were “just as good” since last night.
No.
These ones were flaky and golden brown, stuffed with tender venison slow–cooked in a peppered gravy, bits of roasted sweet onion, and crushed coriander seeds. My eyes widened before I could stop them.
“Is that…” My voice cracked like thin ice.
He looked up and smiled, “Yeah,” he said. “From Elowen’s. You always used to say they were better than anything royalty could afford.”
I swallowed hard.
He carefully placed the pie in front of me and reached into the bag again. This time, he pulled out a sleek glass bottle wrapped in chilled linen.
My heart stopped.
“You didn’t,” I whispered.
He tilted it just enough for me to see the label, and I nearly groaned.
“Iced honey–lavender tea,” he murmured. “Brewed the way you like it–strong, not too sweet. Frosted over with crushed ice.”
The bottle had condensation trailing down its sides, droplets clinging to the rim like dew on morning grass. My hand twitched to reach for it.
Gods. He knew. He remembered.
“Kester…” I started, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “You’re leaving as soon as I’m done eating. Do you hear me?”
He didn’t argue. Just nodded once and stepped back from the table.
“Fine by me,” he said easily. “I just needed to make sure you’d eat.”
There was a long pause. My hunger waged war with my dignity. My wolf, Zera, had already decided. She was practically dancing inside me, clawing at my ribs.
“Eat,”
“she pi
purred. “Our mate feeds us. He cares.”
I hated that I didn’t have the strength to tell her to shut the hell up.
1 sat slowly and warily. My eyes never left his.
Then I pounced
I ripped into the meat pie like a possessed woman. The first bite nearly undid me. The crust crumbled between my fingers, buttery and warm, while the meat inside was tender and drippine with
Chapter 150
onto my tongue, thick with spices and memory.
A moan escaped me before I could stop it.
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I didn’t look up. I couldn’t bear to see the satisfaction that would undoubtedly be spread across his face.
I tore through the rest like I hadn’t eaten in days–which, technically, I hadn’t. Not properly. Not since I found out I was pregnant.
Then I grabbed the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a long, greedy gulp.
The tea was ice–cold perfection. The lavender hit first. It was soft and floral. And then the honey, rich and smooth. It slid down my throat and cooled my insides like spring rain.
My senses were reeling. The pain in my head dulled. The ache in my limbs eased just a little.
I drained the last of the tea, letting the cold sweetness chase away the sour taste of anxiety clinging to my tongue.
For a moment, the world felt still and even safer. The roaring hunger inside me quieted. I leaned back, letting the soft hum of the drink settle in my veins.
But then-
A strange warmth began to spread beneath my skin. It wasn’t comfort or relief.
It was something else.
My stomach lurched in a way that made me blink twice. My throat felt too dry, and my head suddenly light. 1 frowned.
I guess that’s what I get for eating too fast like I stole the food. Besides, I hadn’t eaten lik
wasn’t used to food.
But the dizziness didn’t go away. It worsened.
The room began to shift subtly. The edges of the table blurred.
that in days. My body
Kester was still standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, with an unreadable expression.
“Something wrong, baby?” he asked ever so calmly.
“UlNo. I guess I ate too fast.” I replied, brushing it off and moving on to the question I’ve wanted to ask him for some days now. I sincerely needed to hear what he had to say about what Melissa had told me. Maybe it would heal up some wounds he had unknowingly carved in my heart.
“Kester…” Icalled, swallowing the strange taste rising in my throat. “What happened to your therapist?”
He didn’t flinch.
“Eleven years ago,” I continued in a shaky voice, “Did you threaten her to leave the country?”
He tilted his head. There was no flicker of guilt or hesitation in his eyes. Just pure honesty.
“I didn’t threaten her, Mine,” he said simply.
A flood of relief rushed through me. It meant a lot hearing that from him. Not that it made him any less of the monster I should be afraid of, but… At least
“She left, didn’t she?” I whispered, almost letting out a sruge and a sigh of relief.
“No,” he said in a low, cold, detached voice. “I killed her.”
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Time stopped.
I stared at him, waiting for the rest of the sentence. Waiting for the laugh and then the “just kidding” that would
follow.
I waited for the denial. But it never came.
“Kester…” I choked out. “You… You what?” I asked, but he didn’t respond. He just stood with his arms still folded, his eyes dead. But before I could speak further, the world tilted violently.
My knees buckled, and I stumbled backward. My spine hit the edge of the mattress, and I collapsed onto the bed like a puppet with its strings sliced clean through
“What-“I tried to sit up, but my arms wouldn’t obey. “What did you do…” I whispered, barely able to form the words.
His face appeared above me, “Don’t fight it, baby. It’s time to take you home.”
And then, it all went blank. T
