TRISTAN
The scent hit me first—creamy, warm and sweet; vanilla lingering in the air—feminine and deeply alluring. It wrapped around me, sinking into my skin, sparking something primal and raw in my chest. My hands clenched the arms of the chair as a strange tingling rushed over me. This couldn’t be happening. My heart raced as I stood, the chair scraping loudly. Maurice shot me a confused look, but I ignored him. The sight before me made my heart stop. It couldn’t be... Eleanor? Her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. Her lips parted, as if the words were stuck. I couldn’t help but notice her dark brown hair, falling in soft waves over her shoulders. Her almond-shaped hazel eyes looked older, more captivating, as if the years had only made her more beautiful. Her slender, curvy frame stood tall, and her simple, elegant clothes made her beauty even more striking. But it wasn’t just her looks that left me breathless—it was the Bond, the pull between us. It was undeniable, a raw, primal feeling that stirred deep inside me. No matter how much I wanted to resist, I couldn’t. She is my mate. The realization slammed into me with the force of a tidal wave. I had always believed the mate Bond would be a blessing, a guiding force. Yet now, standing before the woman I had wronged so deeply, it had to be a cruel joke. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air between us thick with unspoken words and unresolved pain. “Elle?” Maurice’s voice broke the silence, warm and surprised, looking between us. “ Say something, don't just stand there.” His words snapped me out of my daze. I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look away from her. “My Lord,” Maurice continued, gesturing toward her. “You remember Eleanor, right? My sister?” As if I could ever forget. I watched as she nodded stiffly, her expression guarded. She gave a slight courtesy and said, "Lord Tristan." I met her gaze, guilt rising in me for the past. "Elle," I replied, my voice quiet. "It's good to have you back." Maurice smiled, unaware of the tension. “And this little cutie,” he said, gesturing to the girl holding Eleanor’s hand, “is Kate, Elle’s daughter.” I blinked, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. A daughter. Eleanor had a child. My mate has a child. “Hi, Lowd Twistan!” Kate said cheerfully, her curly dark brown hair bouncing as she waved at me. Her big hazel eyes sparkled, and her bright, expressive face lit up with excitement. “Hello,” I managed, though my throat felt dry. Maurice led them inside, and I followed, my mind racing. The Bond was meant to be perfect, a promise of a future together. But Eleanor’s guarded look and the little girl with her destroyed that idea. At the dining table, I took my seat, but my eyes stayed on Eleanor. She sat across from me, tense and avoiding my gaze, while Kate happily munched on a cookie beside her. She looked tired, but there was a quiet strength in the way she carried herself. She sat with confidence, her presence drawing me in. Even as a child, she had a way of making people notice, her independence standing out. Now, she was even more powerful, a force I couldn’t ignore. Beneath her tough exterior, it was clear she had a tenderness, especially for Kate, which made her even more captivating. The Bond between us only made it worse. The scent of vanilla and something sweet lingered in the air around her, wrapping around me like a spell, tugging at something deep inside. My pulse raced, each beat heavy with the undeniable pull I felt toward her. It was like gravity, impossible to fight. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. What I had once thought was simple admiration was now something much more intense—something darker, more primal. The desire surged through me, sharp and consuming, amplified by the Bond that tied us together. She was everything—beautiful, strong, and mine. Or at least, that’s what I thought. Then I saw Kate. She was Eleanor’s daughter, and the realization hit me like a punch to the gut. My chest tightened as regret surfaced. I had been so young, so foolish. I’d pushed her away, purposefully hurt her. I could still remember the look on her face when she caught me with Cindy. If I had known then what I knew now... The dining room had a warm, cozy feel, like a hug. Beautiful flowers decorated the table, which was full of delicious food. The Omega servants moved quietly, serving and clearing plates. The soft clink of utensils and quiet chatter created a relaxed atmosphere. The conversation faded into the background until Maurice’s voice snapped me back to reality. “So, Lord Tristan,” he began, “ready for the Mate Ceremony? The pack’s buzzing about it.” The mention of the ceremony made Eleanor glance up briefly, her eyes meeting mine for a split second before she looked away. “I’m prepared,” I said evenly, though the words felt hollow. How could I prepare for something that no longer mattered? My mate was sitting right in front of me, and she wasn’t mine to claim. “Well,” Maurice continued, oblivious, “I hope you find her soon. The pack needs their Luna.” Eleanor remained composed, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. She reached for her glass, taking a deliberate sip. “I’m just here for a short visit,” she said casually, though her tone carried an edge. “I missed my family, that’s all.” Her words were directed at everyone, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were meant for me. Kate, seemingly unaware of the tension, looked up at me and smiled. “Uncle handsome!” she giggled, pointing at me. Eleanor choked on her drink, coughing as Maurice chuckled. “Well,” Maurice teased, “looks like you’ve got a fan, my Lord.” Eleanor glared at her brother before turning to Kate. “Sweetie, don’t say things like that.” "Buh he handsome, Mommy!" Kate said, pouting. A soft chuckle escaped me, the first real laugh in years. For a moment, the tension eased, but reality quickly set back in. Eleanor was here, but she wasn’t mine. And I wasn’t sure she ever would be.
