The Mate That Wasn't Mine novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9

MAXIM POV

Goddess she is just impossible. Utterly impossible.

+20)

I warned her about Warden Marshall and she still had her head turned by his empty threats! Plus her little jibe about me not being all–powerful? I never said I was!

The instant she had a bow in her hands, she stood proud,copper hair fluttering, the complete equal of everyone around her. Not a shred of meekness. So why can’t she just be like that all the time?

Do I need to tape a damn bow into her soft little hand? Fuck, even that idea is pointless because her bow is broken! Damnit.

How do you make someone break out of their shell?

Encourage them, not make them, my wolf sarcastically nudges.

Unfortunately Tessa doesn’t have the next three years to learn how not to blush before answering a question. I’m not that clouded by her lovely, fresh orange scent to miss the red flags.

Warden Marshall’s flicker of interest in her surname.

The mind–linking with the other wardens before changing the skills test. They never send home first years that soon. He wanted her out immediately, before she could even unpack.

Picking on her in the archery line.

The prick was probably the one to smash her bow when I was too busy focusing on the soft sensation of her stomach under my lips.

Warden Marshall only fucks about the students he doesn’t trust. Like me. But I was just a cocky prick fresh from the industrial sector when I first arrived. Dodging enough factory work and prison to earn a slot in the

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infantry.

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I almost killed the man I first sparred against, such was my desperation not to be sent home. I shot to the top of the ranks. Then, I celebrated with several very keen Healer candidates. Loudly. Passionately. Right next to the staff block. My name rang out as regular as church bells.

Warden Donlon chuckled about it the next day. It boiled Marshall’s brain. A pattern was set.

Marshall rode me to the fucking limits my first year. I can admit now I even shed some tears. Alone, my muscles screaming from his relentless drills. Marshall Donlon elevated me into the elite program of assassin and bodyguard training after two years of endurance.

But I don’t know if Tessa can do that.

The Wardens dig into everyone’s background as part of accepting. There must be something Tessa isn’t telling me.

What if her meekness is the real act and I’m the fool being tricked?

I certainly look like an idiot. Standing alone holding two people’s luggage, not knowing who was peering at me from the window. Taking a moment, my hand rubs along my jaw. I fail to understand how the composed, lethal archer can also be the clumsy, blushing, shy mouse. Then to kiss me like

an unleashed hellcat in celebration.

Baffling.

It doesn’t help that the instant she walked away, my wolf reared up in anger, cursing my stubbornness. We don’t have to be mates for him to be affectionate towards her.

I told her to trust me. I know Ravenbow. Not the pretty training grounds and daunting ceiling heights. The darker, dangerous parts. The desire to win overruling everything. Even friendship.

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I have Kai and Silas. But what about the others? Over the years I have lost Axel, Huck, Blake, Alric, Edmund, Fritzy and countless other friends, training partners and roommates whose names are already fading from my memory. Who did I scale the eighth tower with? Was it Axel or Fritzy? Was Edmund the guy who hit a Warden with a wayward blade making me laugh until I cried?

All were either killed or failed. The pool of people one can trust does nothing but shrink at Ravenbow.

Two of them were thrown from the cliff. Abandoning duty chasing their mate bond. Men I respected, transformed into strangers. Declaring love to be more important than serving the pack.

It’s not like I’m rabidly loyal about serving Alpha Hale, but I wouldn’t throw everything away for some adrenalin–fuelled fucking. Which, as super as it sounds, is not worth a cliff–flung death. Or being rat–bait.

Kai and Silas band with me for now. But I know if I were to be awarded a senior position, a battalion leader, whilst they sat watching a moat be populated by tadpoles, they’d hate me. The friendship would break. Because that is how it works here.

So for Tessa to be worrying what people think of her, she is only marking herself out as one of those who is doomed for a train–ride the other way.

“Fuck it.” I grumble. I stalk my way over to Block E. Home of king–size beds, clean bathrooms and comfort. This should be straightforward at least.

Only for a smirking, young lilac–eyed witch to grin. “No. Sorry.”

“What?”

“It’s full”

“But my mate is here, we get a room in E Block? That’s how it works?”

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“Mate bond has been verified?”

I yank the top of my shirt apart to reveal the still livid bite mark. “I found my mate last night, she’s a first year and I’m not having her stay in that squalid, stinking Beta block.”

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She glares up at me, dressed in gray. She clearly thinks she is some kind of power–wielding warden and not a desk–donkey.

“Well, there are no more rooms in E block.”

“They all mated? Or are you giving out favours? Because I know how many mated couples there are in Ravenbow.”

She blushes just as some Viking–lump of a Beta approaches, his leather boots thundering down the stone tiles. Isaac. A few inches of superior height allows him to sneer downwards at me. his hand landing upon the desk–witches shoulder. Of course it would be this huge troll. “Problem?”

“Maybe. You got a room here?”

“I have.”

“And your mate is?”

He scowls. The desk–witches hand reaches up and grips his fingers tightly. “Ah, so there’s room for fuck buddies? I get it. I’ll go check with Warden Roscoe-”

“Shut up Maxim,” Isaac barks, his long charcoal hair shaved at the sides, the centre plaited down into one long swinging braid. He’s a basic infantry chump, all fists and no thought.

I haven’t trained with his type for a long time. It’s been a lot more close–up tactics, restraining, bladework, political history. A fair bit of torture training just to liven up the days.

But I want that room.

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GO

“Tell you what. You can fight me for it.”

“Fuck off, it’s already mine, why would I fight you?” Isaac spits.

+20)

“Because if you win, I won’t report you breaking the rules. I’ll just go lump it over in B block. But if I win, I want that room.”

With a shrug I add, “Or you can take your chances with me reporting you. But seeing as Alpha Hale is all about honour, truth…” raising my eyebrows, allowing the implications to sink into his thick skull.

The lilac–eyed girl inhales sharply. There is a moment of silence. She is looking up at her boyfriend with pure, heated lust, her lips parting in a silent wish. This girl wants to see my face smashed and mount Isaac over my bloodied remains.

It’s certainly potent because Isaac takes only a few seconds to give in to the temptation of her hopeful face. “Fine. No rules.”

The resulting fight, sprawled across the gravel courtyard, using fists, feet, a piece of pipe he found and a plank of wood I grabbed is the reason why I was late for my evening meal.

I assume it was the same as every year. I won though. Isaac bowed out before sunset, both of us keeled over. It had been a feat of brutal endurance. At least his girl, Vivienne, was more than ready to kiss his wounds better when she finally threw in the towel for him.

With a bust lip, several broken ribs and a limp, victory still tasted sweet. Tessa’s meagre possessions would be residing with me. I washed up, changed and patched myself up as best as I could.

Now to find her.

Kai and Silas prove useless, surrounded by crumbs at the table. “What the hell” they exclaim.

“I sorted my room in E Block.”

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“By building it with your face?” Silas scoffs. Gingerly running a hand over my bearded cheeks I weigh up shaving the whole thing off again. It was largely grown in an attempt to seduce Princess Hazel once I heard she had a thing for men with facial hair.

“Have you seen Tessa by the way?”

“She left about half an hour ago,” Kai adds. “You missed Alpha Hale’s speech.”

“Loyalty, don’t make me throw you off the cliff, the usual? I remember last year’s version well enough.“.

““Careful,” Silas mutters. “Thought this was your drama–free year?”

Before I can reply there is a soft cry of horror. A breathy pant I’d recognise anywhere. “What trouble have you got yourself into this time!”

I turn and give my sweetest smile to Hazel. The beauty who occupied all my thoughts for at least two months last year, then slept with her for six more after. Not callously, we both knew it was fun.

She is of course waiting for her royal mate to appear. A man respectable enough to stand by her side, not just drag her into dark corners for fun and games.

“Your Highness,” offering a smart bow. We are in public after all. I am also mated. It would not do to grip her wrists and walk her backwards until her back hits the wall and her skirt hits her hips. Not that the desire to do so strikes me.

As always she is pure illumination. Her soft light blonde hair and blue eyes are angelic. Paired with that silver and white gown it is a wonder she has not floated down from above. “You’re bleeding you know.”

“Ah but I won.”

“You’d say that even if you’d lost,” she tuts, smirking.

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“You know me too well.”

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” nodding towards the back of the hall. Not touching for an instant, it still felt like everyone was forming an opinion on my following her. I had a fresh shirt on that hid a variety of new bruises, I guess my cut eyebrow hadn’t begun healing yet.

Together we stride towards the huge silver broilers containing the hot meats and vegetables. Past tables of onlookers she walked before whispering, “Stay here.”

Hands on my hips I check out the new banners. Extra bloody red, lovely. Nice and terrifying for the first years. It is common for them to appear in nightmares after a few weeks.

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“Here we are,” Hazel smiles, her slender hands holding a bowl of warm water and a flannel. “Oh thankyou,” but she does not give me the option to take care of myself. “Let me, Maxim. Tell me how your summer has been. Did you finally go home?” she whispers softly, her hand guiding the warm flannel to my scabbed, still bleeding eyebrow.

“Well actually-”

“Maxim, I missed you. Very much,” she interrupts fervently. Those blue eyes aren’t focused on my cut, they’re looking straight into my eyes. She whispers “Goddess, your eyes,” and even the dabbing stops. She’s just holding the flannel to my face.

The pair of us are frozen in a moment, tucked away from the hundreds of still–eating students.

A clattering racket makes us jump apart.

It’s Tessa and a bowl of chicken pieces on the floor. My wolf twists at my bite–mark with frustration as her brown eyes meet mine with an expression nowhere near as friendly as Hazel’s.

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