Chapter Seventeen

Hard Revelation 

Mila 

I stood very still inside the small room at the back of the motel.

My hands were clenched at my sides. My chest felt tight. I did not like being here. I did not like the noise outside. I did not like the smell. And I did not like what was happening in front of me.

The woman in charge stood with her arms crossed. The girl stood beside her, calm and quiet.

The prince spoke first. “So, is it a deal?”

The woman lifted her chin. “Before she answers, we talk payment.”

“I will pay,” the prince said.

“How much?” the woman asked.

“Whatever you ask,” he replied.

I looked at him sharply. “My prince—”

He raised his hand slightly. “Let me finish.”

The woman studied his face. “You understand this is not a game.”

“I do,” he said. “I take responsibility.”

The girl looked at me for a moment. Her eyes were steady. Then she looked back at him.

“You want a wife,” she said.

“Yes.”

“And your family will accept this?” she asked.

“They will,” he answered. “They know I help people. They will believe this is part of that.”

The woman nodded slowly. “Payment will be made today.”

“Done,” the prince said.

The woman turned to the girl. “Your answer?”

The girl took a breath. “Yes.”

The word hit me hard.

Yes.

My stomach turned. My ears rang. I felt hot, then cold.

I looked away.

I did not know why it bothered me so much. This was not my business. He had his reasons. He was a prince. He lived in a world I did not belong to.

Still, my hands shook.

The woman clapped once. “Good. We will prepare the papers.”

She left the room with the girl.

The door closed.

Silence fell.

I stared at the floor. “So,” I said, forcing my voice steady, “that’s it.”

“Yes,” the prince replied. “That’s it.”

I nodded. “You’re getting married.”

“Yes.”

“To a whore,” I said before I could stop myself.

He did not get angry. He just sighed.

“Watch your words,” he said quietly.

“Why?” I snapped. “Why this? Why not wait? Why not fall in love?”

He turned to me. His face looked tired. “Love is not for someone like me.”

“That’s not true,” I said.

“It is,” he replied. “People don’t love broken things.”

I felt something twist inside me.

He looked at me then. Really looked at me. “I can’t wait for love. I don’t have time. I need this done.”

I opened my mouth to say more.

To tell him not to do it.

To tell him he deserved better.

To tell him this would hurt him.

But I didn’t.

I swallowed the words.

“I understand,” I said instead.

We walked out together.

The noise of the motel hit us again. Men laughed. Women shouted. Someone spilled a drink and cursed loudly.

I walked beside him, silent.

Outside, the air felt cleaner.

We walked for a while before I spoke again. “What was the price?”

He glanced at me. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

“I asked,” I said.

“It was fair,” he replied.

I stopped walking. “You’re really going through with this.”

“Yes.”

I nodded slowly. “Then I hope it brings you peace.”

He studied my face. “You don’t sound happy.”

“I don’t have to be,” I said.

He said nothing.

We parted ways soon after. I bowed and turned toward home.

That night, I could not sleep.

I turned from side to side. My mind would not rest.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that room. The girl saying yes. The prince standing so calm.

My chest felt strange.

Finally, sleep took me.

I dreamed.

I stood in a forest. The ground was cool beneath my feet. Two wolves stood before me.

One was mine. I knew it. I felt it in my bones.

The other wolf was strong and calm. I did not recognize it, but it felt close. Too close.

They stood side by side.

Looking at me.

I woke up suddenly.

My heart raced. My skin felt warm.

I sat up and wiped my face. “It was just a dream,” I whispered.

I went to wash my face.

As I splashed water on my skin, a sharp pain hit my shoulder.

I hissed and turned.

There, on my skin, was a fresh scratch.

It was blue.

And it formed a symbol I had never seen before.

I stared at it, my breath shaking.

“What… is this?” I whispered.

I stared at the mark for a long time.

The pain that came with it had already stopped. One moment it burned so badly I almost cried out, and the next moment it was gone, like it was never there. Only the blue mark remained on my shoulder.

I touched it carefully this time but there was no pain anymore. “Maybe I imagined it,” I whispered.

I wrapped my cloth tighter around my shoulder and dressed quickly. I did not want anyone to see it. I did not want questions. I did not want trouble.

I stepped outside to start my chores.

The wood pile waited for me.

I picked up the axe and began cutting.

The first strike landed clean.

The second too.

By the third, my thoughts drifted back to yesterday.

The motel.
The girl.
The word yes.

My chest tightened.

Why did I even care?

The axe came down again.

Pain exploded in my shoulder.

I cried out and dropped the axe. I grabbed my arm and fell to my knees.

It burned badly. Worse than before.

I clenched my teeth. “Not now,” I muttered.

I tried to stand.

The pain grew sharper.

“Erwin!” Marge’s voice rang out.

She rushed toward me, worry written all over her face. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly.

“You’re not,” she snapped. “Stand still.”

She reached for my arm, and when her fingers brushed the mark, I gasped.

She froze. “What is this?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Just a scratch.”

Her eyes widened. “This is not a scratch.”

The pain hit me again, harder. I cried out.

“That’s it,” Marge said firmly. “We’re going to the healer. Now.”

“I can walk,” I protested.

“You will do as I say,” she replied.

She supported me as we walked. Every step hurt.

When we reached the healer’s hut, the old woman looked up immediately.

“Bring the him here,” the healer said.

I sat on the stool as Marge stood beside me, anxious.

The healer lifted my cloth gently and looked at the mark.

She did not gasp.
She did not panic.

Instead, she smiled.

“Do not be afraid,” she said calmly.

Marge leaned forward. “What is it?”

The healer looked at me kindly. “The mark is there because your mate is close by.”

My heart skipped.

Marge gasped. “A mate?”

“Yes,” the healer said with a nod. “A strong bond.”

Marge clasped her hands together. “Oh, thank the moon.”

I swallowed. “That’s why it hurts?”

The healer nodded. “Yes. The bond is awakening.”

Marge smiled widely. “I knew it. I always knew this child was special.”

But the healer’s smile faded.

She straightened slowly.

“There is more,” she said.

Marge’s smile dropped. “More?”

The healer sighed. “The pain grows because the mate is about to settle with another.”

My breath caught.

“What?” I whispered.

“The bond feels threatened,” the healer continued. “That is why it burns when you think of him.”

Marge’s face went pale. “Another?”

“Yes,” the healer said softly. “Someone who is not the true mate.”