Chapter 7

Celyn walked into the study, her eyes landing on Valentino. He was standing by the book shelf, hand brushing the books lined on it.

"Why?" She asked, but Valentino didn't respond.

"Val," she called.

"Celyn."

She froze at the venom lacing his tone, watching as he slowly turned to face her.

Valentino's eyes were narrowed, tinged with bitterness and something unreadable. He stared at her for a brief moment, before he moved to sit at his desk.

"The string—"

"I can't cut it," Celyn cut in, walking towards him. She sat across from him and leaned forward, with a worried expression on her face.

Valentino's eyes snapped up to her, murderous in their entirety, but she didn't cower.

"I can't cut it, not in a week."

"Then when?"

"Three months."

"What?!" The man roared, slamming his hands on the desk. Celyn rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Unless you want him dead, I can't cut the string before then."

"You want me to endure this bull shit for three months?!"

Celyn nodded, crossing her legs.

"You didn't sleep last night, did you?" She asked and Valentino's expression faltered.

He leaned back against his chair, eyebrows furrowing.

"How did you know?"

"I guessed right, then. You really don't know anything about the red string. I can't—"

"Just fucking talk, Celyn," Valentino cut in, his patience waning.

"Fine," Celyn huffed.

"It's typical for partners like you two. Your strings are different because your ages are too far apart."

She cleared her throat and continued,

"He's far too young. If I recall well, you said he is twenty, that makes you...11 years older. A string like that is far too tough to sever."

Valentino frowned.

"If you want my advice, I think you shouldn't sever it. Although newly formed, the effects will be as deadly as cutting one that has been existing for years..."

Valentino shook his head.

"I want to cut it."

Celyn stayed silent for a brief moment before nodding. She knew Valentino was stubborn and hated not being in control.

It was part of the reasons he didn't want a mate.

He saw them as weaknesses.

Though, a darker reason lay beneath.

"The hours you're apart, he experiences discomfort and you get irritated. More than a day, he might experience lightheadedness and you'll lose sleep.

"More than a few days..." Celyn paused, hooking her eyes with Valentino's.

"I don't think he's strong enough to handle the effects once you're apart for too long," she said, her tone serious.

She sighed, rising to her feet.

"I'll be back in the evening to check up on him and explain in details what you two need to do for the next three months."

Celyn took in Valentino's disturbed expression as he stared at his desk. She shook her head slightly and walked up to the door.

"Val," she called and the man looked up at her.

"Don't strangle him."

Valentino watched her leave, his pulse quickening.

"Fuck!" He roared, sweeping the things on his desk to the ground.

Three months were too long.

And the consequences of staying apart were too severe.

He'd run mad.

Valentino hissed, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the bar beside him. He didn't bother pouring himself a glass.

He took it directly.

His throat burned as he chugged the liquid, before setting it down on the table. He panted, rage coursing through the blood in his veins.

Was this fate's mocking way of putting him in his place?

After everything he'd experienced? Every tear, every taunting thoughts, every cruel memory, and things he had put up with?

What a bastard!