3: The moon goddess mistake.

ISIDORE

Impossible.

There was no other word for it.

I stared at Archie Decatur across the room, my fingers tightening around the stem of my glass until I heard a faint crack.

Out of every creature in this cursed town, Fate had to choose him?

Archie Decatur?

The arrogant, loudmouth, infuriating werewolf?

The same boy who thinks being the Alpha's son, the golden boy of Grimwood Academy, and the football team captain gets him some kind of humanity?

My stomach twisted.

Mate.

The word echoed in my head, carrying a strange weight that made my chest ache.

This is ridiculous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

I’d heard about mates. Every supernatural child has. Among the werewolves, the bond is celebrated because they believe it was a sacred gift from the Moon Goddess.

However, vampires are different. We don't have wolves whispering in our heads. In fact, the mate thing was like a myth to us vampires.

My father once told me the last confirmed vampire mates occurred before the Great War.

He said it like a warning: Some bonds are blessings, some are curses disguised as gifts.

At the time, I thought he was being dramatic, but now, standing in the midst of werewolves and vampires who are pretending to like each other, I understand what he meant.

My own mating bond is a curse.

And the Moon Goddess? I wanted to ask her who gave her the right to make decisions in my life, preferably with a stake in my hand.

“Isidore.” My father's smooth voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned to him. My father was staring at me with a sharp gaze that made lying feel like hiding a corpse in a glass house.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes.”

His gaze dropped to my glass. Mine did too.

Oh, that was unfortunate.

“Your hand,” he observed.

“I'm fine.” I brushed him off and loosened my grip on my glass.

My father didn't look convinced. He could read the smallest change in anybody's expression. Unfortunately or fortunately for me, he had passed down the trait to me.

“You're pale.”

“I'm a vampire, Father. It's hardly a medical emergency.”

My father narrowed his eyes. “Don't get clever with me.”

“Then stop asking questions. You know I’ll answer dishonestly.”

My father’s expression didn't change, so I gave him a pleasant smile.

For a moment, neither of us said a word as my father's attention drifted to the other side of the place.

Towards Archie.

I fought the urge to look in Archie's direction.

“You and the Alpha's son seem to have developed a particular interest in one another,” my father remarked.

I nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

“He has been staring at you for the past few minutes,” my father pointed out.

“Then I recommend an ophthalmologist to him.”

“Isidore.”

“What?”

“Whatever games you two are playing, remember where you stand.”

I almost scoffed.

A game?

It wasn't a game.

I wished it were. It wouldn't involve so many emotional consequences.

“I can assure you, Father, I have no interest in Archie Decatur.”

The words tasted bitter.

Not because I had an interest in Archie, but because something in me reacted as if I had committed an offence.

My chest tightened. I swallowed the discomfort and lifted my chin.

“I need to step outside,” I said. I didn't wait for my father's reply before heading to the entrance.

I needed some air.

The grand door opened onto a terrace overlooking the garden. Cool air brushed my face as I stepped outside.

Silence, finally.

No music.

No meaningless conversation.

And most importantly, no Archie Decatur.

Did he feel the bond too?

I let myself lean against the railings, closing my eyes.

Everything felt funny.

I mean, this is a boy who is reckless, arrogant, and has been with almost everyone attractive in our school.

He is a flirt.

A shameless one.

And I won't be another name on his list of conquests.

No. Not after what he did to me last year.

The memory resurfaced as if it were yesterday. He kissed my girlfriend, Blaire, who is now my ex-girlfriend.

Not a friendly kiss or a brush of lips.

A long, lingering kiss that sent everyone watching and laughing while my girlfriend stood there in shock.

After Archie pulled away, he stared at me, and then he smiled.

That stupid smile.

I still remember the humiliation crawling under my skin.

Then, afterwards, he claimed he didn't know we were together.

A convenient excuse. Not that I’d ever believe it.

Blaire and I broke up shortly afterwards, and Archie moved on to the next person within two days.

I learnt one important thing: boys like Archie crave attention and will get it without caring whose feelings they trample on.

I won't let some bond convince me otherwise.

The bond could make my heart ache when he entered a room I was in. But it wouldn't make me love him.

Neither would it make me trust him.

For a few seconds, I let myself relax.

Then the bond stirred.

My eyes snapped open as I turned towards the door. No one was there.

Maybe I was imagining it.

I let out a sigh. I hate the bond.

“Having a good evening, Bloodsucker?”

My body went still.

I hate that familiar, deep voice.

I turned my head slowly.

Archie was standing just a few feet away, leaning against the door, his hands tucked in his pockets. His face was expressionless.

Something stirred in me.

The bond.

“What do you want?” I snapped. My voice came out just as cold as I'd intended.

“To talk,” he said casually.

“Find someone else,” I shot back without hesitation.

“Trust me, I tried. Unfortunately, my wolf decided that you're the most interesting person at the party,” he replied, his golden eyes trained on me.

My stomach twisted.

He knew.

Of course he knew.

I would have to play this down.

I folded my arms as I fully turned to him. “Your wolf picked the wrong person.”

Archie smiled.

That stupid smile.

“Apparently, he is happy to call you his mate,” he said so casually that I hated him for it.

“It's a mistake, and whatever this is? It's not my business,” I said, maintaining my flat, cold tone.

“Well… it's our business now,” Archie countered.

“I don't care,” I continued in an indifferent tone. Again, the words tasted bitter.

Archie's jaw tightened. “Believe me, I'm not thrilled about it.”

“Then go on. Go to the healer or something. If something is wrong with your wolf, as you know, I don't feel shit,” I said in a calm tone that I knew pissed him off.

Archie scoffed. “Great, glad that we have the same thoughts,” he gritted out. Obviously, he didn't like my answer.

I'm not about to coddle some wolf.

We glared at each other.

A moment passed.

Archie ran his hand through his dirty-blond hair. “Look, Isidore. I don't know what is happening, but—”

“Neither do I,” I cut him off.

“Can you stop interrupting me?”

“Can you say something worth listening to?” I retorted.

Something flashed in his eyes.

“Isidore,” he called.

I hate it when he calls me by my full name.

I hate the way it sounds coming from him.

“Archie.”

“Listen to me. I know we don't like each

other, and this mate thing—”

“Mate?”

I heard the door open, and my sister, Sonnet, walked in with that evil, tight smile of hers.

Oh no.

Not Sonnet.

“Can anyone tell me what my two favourite boys are talking about? Who found their mates?”