I was dumbfounded, my breath catching in my throat as I stood before the Moon Goddess Temple.
Its ancient stones seemed to hold the weight of centuries of whispered prayers and quiet hopes. The air around me felt charged, as if the temple itself held some mystical power. I could feel the rapid, erratic beating of my heart. Its rhythm echoed in my ears, a testament to the mixture of anticipation and anxiety that churned within my soul.
I knew what I was here to do.
I want to know if Hestia's really Zarion's mate. But now, faced with the reality of it all, a flurry of doubt swept over me. Could this truly work? Was it possible that it could hold the key to knowing one's true mate?
Probably not. Probably I’m just being crazy. But then…all is just a maybe until we’ve proven it as true.
I had not painstakingly prepared for this moment. No one is. While I meticulously followed the instructions I had discovered in the dusty tomes of our family library, a single tear began to crawl its way from my eyes down to my face.
The instructions were clear: four drops of blood coming from Hestia's and Zarion’s on the stone altar of the Moon Goddess Temple. It sounded almost too mythical to be real. Yet here I was, a vial of two bottles of blood in hand, ready to lay it all on the line.
My fingers shook slightly as I opened the vial, the deep crimson liquid inside seeming to pulse with a life of its own.
Four drops, I reminded myself, my gaze flickering to the engraved markings on the altar. It was as if time had slowed, each drop falling with a weight that felt both profound and terrifying.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
The final drop splattered onto the stone, merging with the other three in a small pool that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly glow.
For a moment, I simply stared. Waiting for some sign, some confirmation that my actions had set something monumental into motion. But the world around me remained still, unmoving, and I felt a rush of frustration clawing at the edges of my mind.
I stepped back, my heart still racing, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Guilt and sadness washed over me like a tidal wave.
Why had I resorted to this desperate act?
As the minutes ticked by, the glow on the altar began to fade, leaving only the stains of Hestia's blood as a testament to what I had done.
I took a deep breath, tried to steady myself and raced back to the pack with a troubled mind and soul.
***
I gasped as I entered our room, the heavy wooden door swinging shut behind me.
Zarion stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe that led to the balcony. The soft glow of twilight filtered into the room, casting an enchanting hue over his sharp features. He held a glass of whiskey in one hand, his gaze distant as if lost in thought. Yet, I knew he was acutely aware of my presence.
That was just the way he was—always perceptive, always watching.
“Where did you go?” His deep voice cut through the haunting silence, jolting me slightly. He set the whiskey glass down on the countertop with a gentle clink.
I fumbled for words, feeling caught off guard. “I, uh, just went up to the attic for a bit. Didn't the handmaiden tell you where I was?”
He chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Oh, she did, Cassidy. She certainly did.”
My heart raced. He wasn't buying it. My gaze darted around the room, avoiding his piercing blue eyes. “So why ask then?” I retorted, attempting to sound nonchalant. “I'm exhausted. I just want a nice good old rest.”
I slipped off my leather jacket and moved toward the bathroom, my intention set on a much-needed bath.
Just when I thought I might escape further scrutiny, his voice stopped me in my tracks.
“How ironic,” he mused, his tone carrying a smug edge. “You went to the attic to rest, yet here you are, claiming tiredness. Interesting.”
I froze, every muscle in my body tense. He had a way of seeing right through me, of unraveling the excuses I spun like delicate webs. There was no point in denying it—he already knew I was lying.
His presence drew nearer, a tangible heat at my back. He toyed with the tips of my hair, his touch gentle yet unsettling. I could feel his warm breath on my neck as he inhaled deeply, scenting my hair.
“Fragrance flower, hmm? Changed your shampoo?” he purred, his voice a low murmur. It was a simple question, harmless on the surface. But there was nothing simple about it, not when it came to Zarion.
The fragrance flower was a telltale sign, a clue he would undoubtedly recognize. My heart pounded in my chest.
“No.” I managed to lie, my voice was a little too quick, a little too sharp.
He didn't relent. “Then why does your hair smell different, Cassidy Salem Bentley?”
My determination threatened to crumble. I turned to face him, my eyes locking onto his. The intensity in his gaze was palpable, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.
“You already know why, Zarion,” I replied through gritted teeth, frustration and desperation tangling in my words.
He closed the distance between us, his presence enveloping me entirely. Zarion’s pair of eyes held a dangerous gleam on them. A predatory look that sent shivers down my spine. “Why did you do it, Cassidy? Don't you trust me? I thought we have a mutual agreement that fosters love and trust…”
The accusation hung heavy in the air, and I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a precipice.
“I did nothing, Zarion…” The nervousness in my voice said it otherwise.
My heart ached with the weight of my unspoken truths, and for a moment, I was tempted to let them spill out.
But the consequences…the tangled web of secrets and consequences, held me back.
“I…” My voice faltered. I looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. “It's not about trust, Zarion. It’s about Hestia’s twisted words—and claim.”
“So you trust her words more than me?”
“I–No!”
Before I could protest any longer, his mouth covered mine. Though the kiss was quick and gentle, it seems as if it was a kiss of punishment somehow.
“I love you, Zarion. And it hurts me when someone else is claiming you as their mate!”
I let him see it all: the jealousy, the anger. The fear. I let him see the demons shimmering in my eyes as my tears slowly made their way down my face.