Chapter 5 - The Mate Bond

Fantine's POV

The apartment door slammed behind me harder than I meant. My hands shook while I locked it, twice, like that would keep Riley Porter or anything else out.

I slid down the door until I hit the floor, knees pulled up.

What the hell was that?

His bare chest. The water on his skin. That stupid smirk when his towel slipped. It kept replaying in my head on a loop, like my brain had decided to torture me.

But the worst part?

My body reacted like it had a mind of its own. Heat rushing through me. Ava practically purring in my head.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

“Shut up,” I muttered to her.

She whined, offended.

I pressed my palms over my eyes. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t anything. The mission was supposed to be straightforward: get in, seduce him, kill him. Clean and cold, no feelings attached.

But Riley Porter was not simple. He wasn't just a name on a file. He was the son of the man who ruined my father’s life, but he was not easy to hate.

And now he was my mate. Perfect.

My sister, Selene’s voice slipped in, sharp as always: "Don’t get emotional. You hesitate, you die. Or worse, you fail Father."

My stomach twisted.

What do I even tell him?

Hi Dad, slight issue, the guy you want dead is my mate?

My fingers hovered over my phone. One call and everything would blow open.

Ava snapped in my head so loudly I winced.

Don’t. If you tell him, he’ll yank you out. Or send Selene. Or Mira. And they won’t think twice.

She wasn’t wrong. Father didn’t believe in “complications.” He raised weapons, not daughters.

If I told him Riley was my mate? That I let Riley kiss me? That I liked it?

I’d prove Selene right, that I am soft, weak and unfit for this or any other mission.

I locked my phone and tossed it onto the couch.

I can handle this. I just need to breathe.

But my brain betrayed me, replaying him pinning me to the lockers. His voice was low. His breath against my skin.

"Your body's screaming for mine. Let me have you."

My face flamed.

“How am I supposed to look at him tomorrow?” I whispered. “Or stand near him without combusting?”

There will be practice, meetings and social strategy sessions. All of it meant being close to him. Close enough to gain his trust. Close enough to kill him.

My stomach twisted again.

The bathroom door opened and steam poured out. Betty, my roommate, walked out in her oversized sweatshirt and towel-wrapped hair.

“Fantine? Are you good?” She squinted at me. “Why are you sitting on the floor in the dark like a horror movie villain?”

I scrambled up. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Right. And I’m Beyoncé.” She grabbed two wine glasses. “Come on. Talk.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Liar.”

She poured heavy glasses of wine. I took one and drank half of it in one go.

Betty blinked. “Oh my god. You slept with a hockey player.”

“No!” I snapped, refilling my glass.

“But you want to.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

Because yeah, my body wanted Riley. Ava wanted Riley. Every instinct in me screamed to go back to that locker room and climb him like a tree.

The logical part of me, the part that remembered the assignment, was screaming just as loudly to run.

I paced the kitchen like a trapped animal.

“Fantine,” Betty said softly. “You can talk to me.”

I wanted to. I really did. But how do you explain that your target, the man you’re supposed to kill, is also your mate? That every part of you is pulling you apart?

“You know what, I just…” I started, then stopped. No words came out.

Betty sighed. “Either tell me or don’t, but this pacing is stressing me out.”

I let out a humorless laugh.

She walked over, put her hands on my shoulders. Made me meet her eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re dealing with,” she said. “But running from it isn’t helping.”

My chest tightened.

“Face it,” she added. “Whatever it is.”

She headed to her room. “Try to get some sleep. Stuff tends to look different in the morning.”

The door shut behind her.

Face it?

Go with the bond? Play along?

It was dangerous, too tempting. If I let myself connect with him… I’d get closer. I’d learn everything. And when the time came…

My hands shook as I poured more wine.

I can do this. I have to.

*****

Sleep barely happened.

When it finally came, the dreams hit hard.

Riley’s hands on me, firm and sure. His mouth on my neck. His voice in my ear.

"Stop fighting it. Stop fighting us."

And in the dream, I didn’t fight. I leaned into him. I wanted him. I needed him. Too much.

His hands gripped my hips. His breath was hot on my ear.

“Say it,” he growled. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m—”

I jerked awake, gasping. Heart racing. Clothes damp with sweat.

“What the fuck,” I groaned.

3:47 AM.

Ava stretched in my mind, satisfied like she just had the best night of her life.

I got out of bed, pacing. I couldn’t go back to sleep even if I wanted to.

Focus. Remember the mission.

I pulled out the file from the bottom drawer. I should’ve burned it already, but I couldn’t.

Riley’s photo stared back at me.

Target: Riley Porter

Age: 25

Heir to Hades Realm Pack

Objective: Eliminate before semester's end

He looked… happy in the picture. In the picture he didn’t look like a target, or even a threat.

I traced the photo’s edge.

“It’s just biology,” I whispered. “It’s nothing.”

But Ava howled inside me, broken and furious.

And I knew I was lying.

*****

Morning hit like a punch.

By the time I dragged myself to the field, I felt half-dead. Coach Rufus waved me over.

“Lennox! Match today. Blackwater vs Northpoint. It's a big game. The marketing department wants video for promos.”

“A match? Today?”

He nodded. “Go to the equipment room. Second door.”

Great. Hours of watching Riley.

I walked to the equipment room, trying to steady my breathing.

I pushed the door open—

And slammed straight into a wall of muscle.

Strong hands grabbed my arms. Steadying me.

“Careful, Lennox?”

No. Gods no.

I looked up and it was Riley.

He had on his jersey, damp hair and his blue eyes locked on mine.

The mate bond exploded between us like a live wire. Ava pushed forward, desperate.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I was hoping I’d see you.”

My chest squeezed.

“I—I have to—”

“Wait.” He held my arms a little tighter. Not hurting. Just keeping me there. “Fantine, come on. Talk to me.”

His eyes were too honest. Too open.

I couldn’t breathe.

I pulled away so fast I almost stumbled, then bolted down the hall.

“Fantine!” he called, sounding confused. Maybe even hurt.

I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t.

Because if I did?

I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk away at all.