Masked Fate (Fated Love #3)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Pandora

Before he started pacing the length of the bedroom, he gently placed me in the middle of his extremely big bed. Glancing around, I take in the large armoire, the door that leads to his bathroom, and his wall of fancy-looking swords. Besides that, the room is empty. I’m overwhelmed with emotions right now. I’m so angry that he used his magic and forced me to remove the necklace, but it also is quite freeing for the truth to be out there like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

Soren now knows the truth.

Even if we decide not to complete the bond, he knows the truth, and I will sleep better at night knowing that fact.

Sitting up, my fingers touch his white silk sheets, wondering how many women he’s had in his bed. It makes me feel sick, and I find myself scooting to the very edge of the mattress, my feet barely touching the floor.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, brow furrowing.

“Are these sheets clean?” I blurt out, eyeing them with distaste.

When was the last time he fucked one of his pets ?

An undefinable emotion flickers in his eyes before he reaches down and touches my cheek gently. “Yes, they are fresh sheets.”

I tug my bottom lip with my teeth, still feeling uncomfortable.

“Fuck,” I hear him mutter, closing his eyes tightly before reopening them.

Soren runs his fingers through his hair, messing the normally perfectly-styled length. “Who else knew about this?” he finally asks.

Only Astrid, but I’ll never tell him that. I’m not pulling her into this mess any more than she already has been. I don’t know if she ever told Rave, and I have never asked her.

I decide to stay silent, which must push Soren to his limit of patience because he storms into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly open. The water turns on, and when he still hasn’t come out after a good twenty minutes, I decide to enter and investigate. I find him standing under a fountain of water, palms against the wall, head bowed. I don’t have a shower in my bathroom, so I know his must be customized. There’s plenty of room in there for more than two people, and that knot makes its way back into my chest. His muscular back flexes as he takes a deep breath, and I can’t help but admire his tight, round ass. He’s built like a warrior—perfection and hard angles.

But he looks more defeated than I’ve ever seen him, his tall frame hunched.

And even after everything that’s happened between us, I don’t like that. But I can’t fix it.

My family hurt him, and he hurt me in return.

Not in the same way, no, but he hurt me all the same.

“Are you okay?” I ask, standing away from the water so I don’t wet my linen dress.

“I should be asking you that,” he replies, sighing as he turns around to face me. “I’m so sorry, Pandora. So fucking sorry for everything.” The despair in his voice makes my chest hurt.

Forcing a small smile, I make sure to keep my eyes on his. I don’t want him to catch me looking any lower. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t know how, and I didn’t want you to hurt any more than you were.”

His expression crumbles further at my words.

“I’m going to go to bed. Maybe we can talk more in the morning?”

We may have softened toward each other slightly in the last few days, but it’s not enough. There is so much hurt, regret, and pain between us. He didn’t know. I know he didn’t know, and that’s on me, but it doesn’t make my broken heart stop hurting or erase the last few years.

His brows draw together. “No. Stay here tonight. I don’t want you out of my sight right now.” He pauses and then adds, “Please,” almost as an afterthought. It’s like he’s not used to saying it.

And with all the females normally at his feet to do his bidding, I’m sure he isn’t.

My first reaction is to run, to get some space from him, just so I can think straight, which I can’t do when I’m around him. My heart is racing, my body pulsing with magic and freedom after being contained for so long by my spell. I feel more in my own skin than I have in a long time. It’s now my heart that’s about to take a beating.

“I don’t know, Soren…”

He turns off the water and steps toward me, and I can’t help myself—my eyes drop to his huge, beautiful, very hard cock. He has a piercing through the head, and my mouth waters a little.

“Eyes up here, little witch,” he rasps, his name for me now gentle—an endearment even—now that things have changed.

My eyes raise, following his command without him having to use any of his magic. Speaking of, “Don’t you ever use persuasion on me again, Soren. I will give you one for free, but the next time is going to cost you.”

His eyes had turned black with gray swirling through them when he used his magic. It was eerie. His muscular arm reaches behind me to grab a fluffy white towel, small droplets of water falling on me in the process. “I’m sorry. I knew something was wrong. It was fucking calling to me… I can’t explain it.”

I think the more Soren and I interact, the more the mate bond fought against my magic. I should have known I couldn’t hide my secret forever.

“When did you know?” he asks, roughly drying himself the way men do.

I step back, putting a little space between us before replying, “While you were in our dungeons, I was away in the Shifter Kingdom, getting to know Salem and networking our new alliance. I had no idea you were there. When I returned, Rave had already found and saved you. When I went to visit him in Aravelle, I saw you standing outside with Rave. The two of you were sparring, and you were still so injured from what my mother did to you. Your neck…” I trail off, remembering the bloody mess it once was. “I felt sick with what she did to you, Soren. And the moment I felt the bond, I freaked out and zipped away.”

“I thought I sensed you once,” he admits, hanging the towel up and lifting my chin with his thumb and forefinger. He rests his other palm against the wall. “Only for a moment. I thought I was going crazy.” He swallows, his throat working. “This has fucked me up, Pandora.”

I don’t know what he wants from me right now.

Does he expect us to suddenly become some happily-mated couple?

He hated me.

And us being mates doesn’t change anything he said.

His harsh words cause my chest to tighten uncomfortably. “I don’t know what to say, Soren. But I need some time to think—”

“You’ve had years to think, little witch,” he replies in a low murmur. He rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. “I’ve had fifteen minutes. Why is it that you need space and I don’t?”

Fuck.

“I don’t know, Soren,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Maybe it’s me who suddenly found some standards.” And then I zip back to Allyria.

Tears drip down my cheeks as soon as I land on my bed.