Chapter 92

Elijah

The distance between us worsened every day after that night in my study.

Once, Agnes and I had been able to build a tentative trust, maybe even a tender sort of understanding. We had our slip-ups, like that day in the hallway after she had slapped her stepmother, but things were still good.

But now…

We moved around each other in the house like two ships passing in the night. We were polite, but our conversations were reduced to the bare minimum. No shared laughter, no meaningful glances, just…

Silence.

Thea was the only thing that seemed to bridge the gap, her laughter and chatter filling the air as usual. To my surprise, Agnes never let her personal grief or frustration show around Thea, and for that, I respected her deeply. She was a wonderful mother—better than Olivia had ever been.

But the tension between us was undeniable. I could feel it in the way she avoided my gaze, in the way she stiffened whenever I entered a room. And I couldn’t blame her. Not after what had happened in my study. Not after I had pulled away from her, letting the glow of Olivia’s mark remind us both of the bond I couldn’t escape.

Truthfully, I did want Agnes that night. But just as I had been about to take things a step further and finally realize the depth of my attraction to her, my wolf had gone berserk.

“She’s not our mate!” he had howled, sending the mate bond flaring to life out of nowhere. “I don’t want her. I want Olivia!”

Of course, I had pulled back, stunned. The mate bond seared my skin like a fresh burn, and in a way, it had burned Agnes as well. She had rushed from the room before I could even say her name.

Even now, my wolf was still a wreck. One moment, he was pining for Agnes, regretting getting between us that night. The next, he was howling for Olivia, his longing for his mate a constant ache in my chest.

It was maddening, this push and pull, this war between my heart and the soul bond that tied me to Olivia.

I tried to ignore it, and instead threw myself into my work in a feeble attempt to avoid dealing with the mess of emotions swirling inside me.

But even then, Agnes haunted me. She was in my dreams, her gray eyes glittering as they looked up at me. She would trace her fingers across my bare skin, nip at my throat, pepper kisses along my jaw.

In those dreams, we were together, and I was happy. But every time I woke up, the reality of our situation came crashing back.

It was on one of those particularly frustrating days that Olivia showed up at my office, unannounced and uninvited. I was in the middle of reviewing a stack of reports when she walked in. She didn’t bother knocking, of course. Olivia never did.

“Elijah,” she said, stopping a few paces away from my desk. “We need to talk.”

I looked up, my eyes narrowing as I took in her perfectly styled hair and fitted dress. She looked as stunning as ever, but the usual sharpness in her gaze wasn’t lost on me. I wondered if she had felt the bond hum to life all those nights ago, and maybe she was now coming to finally take what was hers.

“Olivia. What are you doing here?” I cautiously set my pen aside.

She crossed the room and perched on the edge of my desk, her lips curving into a pout. “I’m here to talk about the fashion show. Specifically, the garment I’ll be modeling. It’s… well, it’s frumpy. And ugly. Honestly, Elijah, I don’t know what Agnes was thinking when she designed it. It’s like she’s trying to make me look like a housewife.”

I leaned back in my chair, my jaw tightening. “Olivia, I don’t recall asking you to model for the show. Did Agnes ask you?”

She hesitated, her smile faltering for just a moment before she recovered. “Of course she did. Why else would I be here?”

I didn’t believe her. Not for a second. Agnes wouldn’t have personally asked Olivia to model in the show—not after… Well, everything. But I didn’t call her out on it.

Instead, I said, “If you don’t like the garment, you’re free to decline. But if you want to continue your modeling career, I suggest you suck it up and wear it. Plenty of people like Agnes’s designs.”

Olivia’s eyes flashed with anger, but she quickly masked it with a smile. “Very well.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Did you need something else?” I asked more curtly than I intended when she didn’t get up to leave. “You’re sitting on my paperwork.”

Olivia’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of pure venom. She stood, and with an indignant little hmph, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

And just like that, like a tornado whirling in and out in an instant, she was gone. I was relieved. But my wolf wasn’t.

My wolf howled inside of me, a sound of pure anguish as he watched his mate walk away. I hated it—hated the way he still longed for her, even after everything she had done. But I couldn’t control him. Not completely. The bond was too strong, too deeply ingrained in both of us.

I sank back into my chair, running a hand through my hair. My wolf growled in frustration.

“You should call her back. I can’t go on much longer without my mate.”

I sighed with exasperation and shook my head. “I’m not calling her back,” I muttered, although I knew he wouldn’t understand. How could he? He was a creature of instinct, driven by the bond and the primal need to be with his mate.

But I was more than that. I had a heart, and it wanted Agnes.

And yet, the bond demanded Olivia.

That night, I had dreams about Agnes again. She was in my arms, her body warm and pliant against mine, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispered my name.

The dream was just like all of the others; the two of us tangled up beneath the sheets, her slender waist pressing against me. It was bliss.

Until it wasn’t.

“You were supposed to be my mate… And she took you from me…”

I jolted awake, my heart pounding and my skin slick with a cold sweat. The room was dark, the only sound in the air the steady ticking of the clock on the wall.

Frowning, I sat up and ran a hand over my face as I tried to shake off the remnants of the dream. You were supposed to be my mate…

What the hell did that mean? I had a mate—Olivia. And as for Agnes, she hadn’t had a wolf of her own in years. I couldn’t be her mate.

But… I couldn’t completely shake the thought from my head. I told myself that it was just a dream, that my lust for Agnes was clouding my perception of the truth. And still, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get those words out of my mind.

She took you from me…

“You’re going mad, Elijah,” I whispered to myself, shaking my head in an attempt to dispel the thoughts. “Go to bed.”

I huffed and flopped back down on the pillows, covering my eyes with my forearm to blot out the moonlight streaming in through the curtains.

But sleep eluded me all night, because Agnes’s voice kept echoing in my head no matter how much I tried to get it to go away.

You were supposed to be my mate… And she took you from me…