Chapter 12

Elena

Killian whisked me out of the building before a real scene could be caused. Our car was still parked out front, and he ushered me into the back seat, then slammed the door behind him as he climbed in after me.

“What is your problem, really?” he ground out once we were alone, dark eyes flashing with anger. “Do you feel neglected or something? Is that why you’re selling off the jewelry I gave you and flirting with other men?”

“Flirting?” I laughed out loud. “Jaxon and I weren’t flirting.”

“Is that so?” Killian folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t know about you, Elena, but when a man says that he wants to steal a woman away from her husband, that’s typically considered to be flirting.”

I pressed my lips together. Was Killian seriously jealous? After making me feel like the wife he never wanted for years?

“I have no control over what someone else says or does,” I replied after a moment.

“Perhaps not, but you don’t have to engage in conversation with men like Jaxon Adler.”

“Jaxon Adler is your biggest rival amongst all the Alphas,” I said, careful not to reveal what I knew from my previous life or what I was planning in this one. “He’s been a thorn in your side in Council meetings for years. You know he’s probably going to try to run against you as Council Leader.”

My words seemed to strike a chord, because Killian’s face darkened. I went on, “I was trying to help you by playing nice. Isn’t that what you want? A helpful little Luna who only does anything for your sake?”

Killian’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.” He leaned closer. “I think you’re trying to get my attention.”

I tried to lean back, but I had nowhere to go but the edge of my seat. Killian just leaned even closer, his cologne clouding the rest of my senses. The scent of him was intoxicating now just as it was the other night, and I felt my wolf begin to stir, excited by our mate’s proximity.

“Well, you’ve succeeded,” Killian murmured. He reached up to touch my face, and it took all my willpower not to lean into his palm. “If you want me so badly, then you can have me. Without having to resort to flirting with other men.”

Suddenly, he was moving closer as if to kiss me. His hand moved to the back of my neck, angling my head for better access, lips parting.

For a moment, I almost let him do it, just as I had last night and the night before and far too many times before that. It would be easy and familiar to fall back into our old rhythms, to let him soothe me with his body and the sparks that always flew between us whenever we made love. The driver wasn’t in the car with us just now—we could do it right here, right now.

And… I wanted to. On a deep and primal level, of course I wanted my mate to make love to me, to comfort me with sweet nothings and tender kisses and the kind of intimacy no one else could provide.

But more than that sense of want was a hatred so deep it burned straight through whatever love I once had for him.

I had lost that love when he had killed me and my baby. When he had let Natalie kill Maeve. When they had taken everything from me, including my own life.

Before my wolf could take control, I pulled back and slapped Killian so hard across the face it sent his head snapping to the side. Even in the car, it seemed to echo through the cramped space like a bomb had gone off.

Killian reeled back, his fingers flying to the side of his face where a red, angry handprint was already starting to form. His dark eyes seemed to turn entirely black, like a black hole swallowing a galaxy.

But I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. And I wasn’t done.

“You only see me as something to be possessed,” I hissed, reaching for the car door handle. “But I’m not. I’m a person, and I’m tired of being your obedient little trophy.”

And with that, I climbed out of the car, leaving Killian stunned and still holding his face, and hailed a cab home on my own.

…

The first thing I did when I arrived was head to the kitchen, hungry for dinner as I hadn’t had the stomach to eat anything at the auction. I pulled out the ingredients to make a simple pasta dish: ground beef, tomato sauce, dried farfalle, spinach, mushrooms.

The act of cooking soothed me, the rhythmic chopping of the knife and the sound of the water boiling allowing me to fall into a deep meditation. I was able to avoid thinking about Killian for a little while, at least while I was cooking.

But by the time I set the table with a single plate and a glass of wine, the sorrow set in. I sniffled as I took my seat, willing the tears to stay inside where they belonged.

Many times, I would sit just like this, alone and pathetic and in tears. Killian never came home for dinner unless he really had no excuse, even though I always—always—cooked only what he liked and never what I liked.

So many nights wasted.

In my eyes, couples, especially fated mates, should savor every meal together. Eating together was a time to break bread, to talk and laugh and share the part of the soul that could only be expressed through a lovingly cooked meal.

I only ever wanted the type of love where I could cook for someone, to laugh over a glass of wine and dance together in the living room afterwards.

That was the type of relationship Natalie and Killian had.

But even though he was my fated mate, he would never give that part of himself to me. I would have to learn to love myself from now on in this life. I had spent too many nights loving someone who didn’t feel the same way.

I hadn’t realized that the tears had fallen anyway until one plopped into my wine glass, making the red liquid ripple. I sniffed and wiped my face with the back of my hand, shaking my head.

“Don’t cry… Stupid,” I whispered.

Just then, the sound of a creaking floorboard caused me to snap my head up. Killian was standing in the doorway with a plate of the food I’d cooked in his hands.

I stiffened, expecting him to retaliate for the slap. His cheek was still slightly red from where I’d hit him. But to my surprise, he just sat down across from me, poured himself a glass of wine, and began to eat.

For a few moments, I just watched him eat, completely dumbfounded. I made no move to eat my own food, too confused and shocked to have the stomach for it. Killian ate quietly for a bit, his fork scraping against the plate, then finally glanced up at me through his dark brows when he reached for his wine.

“You’re a good cook,” he said.

I blinked mutely. He had never tried my food before. He had also never complimented me before. I wasn’t sure how to react.

Killian sighed and set down his glass. For a long moment, he seemed to struggle with something he wanted to say, dark eyes roving back and forth across the white tablecloth.

Finally, he said, “I apologize for what happened earlier. I’ve been reflecting, and…” He took a deep breath and looked at me, really looked at me, and for the first time ever, I thought I saw a hint of the man who had once looked at Natalie like that. “I’ll come home for dinner on time from now on.”

My heart ached, and my voice softened. But my words were still firm as I replied, “There’s no need. I won’t cook for you anymore.”