25 | Dasher

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I stared at the mark etched upon my skin. The Mating Bond. Meaning we had accepted it. I hadn't even been aware it was a thing until a few hours ago, now I had a Mate, and we had a mark to show it off.

One that had burned.

Iris twisted in the mirror, staring at the mark that had appeared on the back of her hand. A circle with four lines emerging from the north, south, east, and west of it. Her eyes were wide and panicked. "We can't be Mated," she said.

I had the matching mark on the back of my hand. "Fynley took it well," I told her, but I agreed. As much as I wanted her, as much as I needed her, being Mated to me was a bad thing. I was in love with Alyssa, and she had been in love with me, and look how that had tuned out.

"He had other things to be focused on," she said. "This puts you in so much danger."

I could've laughed at her, but she truly sounded worried. "Iris, I was being chased by werewolves before we were Mated. This won't change anything," I comforted. Her, on the other hand...

If something happened to her, I'd die along with her.

I would lay beside her and go, too.

She shook her head, though. "You don't understand, Dasher. I am Intended to Fynley, and I cannot break that. If he decides he wants me despite you being my Mate, he can kill you if you don't bow down gracefully."

Fynley wanted to kill me anyway. "He'll be one of many then."

She huffed. "Dasher, take this seriously. I haven't even know you that long, but I can't lose you."

"Then you won't." I pulled her into my arms, flattening her arms to her side and holding her. "Listen, from what I know of Fynley already, I know that if he would make it a problem, he would've. He's an asshole. That's what they do."

She didn't move or say anything for a second. "You're right. I'm—I didn't know the mating bond would be this strong. I've only seen elder Mates before, but they don't ever talk about it, and they're all so different."

"How so?"

She wiggled out of my arms, leaning against the dresser with her arms crossed. "I told you—it's about creating the most powerful baby, it doesn't care if you actually like each or not. So some Mates are happy and in love, others are miserable. Fynley's parents are madly in love, but my parents can't stand each other. Never could."

I couldn't imagine not liking Iris, loving her. I couldn't picture being at war with her or thinking anything about her besides how much I needed her.

"Women can't reject it either," she said. "If we do, these archaic bastard werewolves have the right to kill us. If they don't take us anyway." Her voice tinged with bitterness.

"If you don't want it," I told her, even though the words were snapping my heart in half. Maybe this was what my mom had meant when she said you could've love something as much as you thought you did until you were ready to let it go for something better. If it was better for her, then I would let her go. Run back to the apartment with my tail between my legs. "just say the word. Whenever, what—"

"Dasher, no." She laughed, a little bit without humor, a little bit amused. "That's not what I'm saying at all—you're handsome, kind, funny. You listen to me—"

"The bar is in hell for Fynley."

She brought her eyes to mine, and I noticed the weariness, the worry, had been replaced by a glimmer of hope. "Well, considering I was born for him, and it was the only thing I'm meant to do, I couldn't set my standards high. It was literally shoved down my throat since birth that I was made for him, no matter wha he did or didn't do. I could not expect him to be anything to me other than my husband.

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