His mate, my Doom

Present day

So pathetic, I think, strolling through the woods. I'm no longer the same girl I was then. No longer dreamy and lovesick. I've trained my senses and improved my skills. I can shift with ease now. I can defend myself.

Liar. Crystal says. I want to kick her.

"I can defend myself," I argue.

Not against him.

"Well it's a good thing I'll never have to. He's never coming back." I am conscious of a bit of uncertainty that makes my voice waver.

Liar

"You came." I hear a voice whisper. It feels like it's in my head, but somehow, I know it's not.

Lucien.

My heart skips a beat and starts to race again as I turn, giving myself a good look at him. I pray that I'm dreaming. 

This can't be real. He couldn't possibly come back after exile.

He doesn't look like a dream. He is too real to be a dream. He is the same. Just....

Better. Older. 

He has gotten stronger. I can sense it in the cool poise he had taken on. He seemed better off, too. His clothes were expensive, but subtly so.

"Do I get to kiss the bride?" He says sardonically, tilting his head to the side to look at me. I look around, panicking for a moment. As he takes a step forward I mirror it with a step backward. Why was no one here?

Well you're in the middle of the woods, it's hardly a public place, Crystal reasons.

I wonder why she doesn't feel scared. Doesn't she feel the restrained anger emanating from him?

The lethal energy masked by his harmless stance?

"You should never have come back," I say, staring into his eyes and forcing myself to hold his gaze. 

He stalks closer to me and I instinctively step backwards. He backs me against a tree, crowding with his body. I can feel the heat from his body. There was bravery, and there was stupidity. Going against Lucien was the second. It screamed for a second.

He kept his expression distant and cold. "To my pack?"

"Dante exiled you. He'll kill you if he finds out you came here." Lucien's lips curve into a half-smile. "Dante is a joke to other packs."

He studies my reaction, leaning in. "And judging by your lack of reaction, you already know. Do you know that the pack is in financial ruin? That other packs are closing in, trying to kill Dante and take over it?"

I hesitate, my lips parting and closing up again.

He chuckles. "You know."

I lift my chin a notch. "Leave before Dante finds out you came," I say softly, trying to reason with him. "I won't tell anyone you came here but I can't hide you if Dante finds out."

"Your worry is unnecessary and poorly placed." He replies coolly, stepping backward.

 "Go tell the groom I paid a visit." He throws over his back as he begins to walk away. "Tell him I'll be back for the celebration tonight."

He pauses in his tracks and forgets to start. He turns and walks over to me slowly, giving me a once-over, cold and clinical.

"And tell him he has gotten himself a beautiful, passionate bride and a beautiful property. Every garden deserves a serpent, doesn't it?"

With a humorless smile, he turns and walks off.

"I never thought of you as the alcoholic type."

I am holding a tumbler and putting whiskey into it when I hear the voice behind me.

 I turn to see Dante at the door of the study, already dressed for the wedding. I shudder and empty the glass of whiskey.

"What's got your panties in a knot?" He asks, walking to me and putting his arms around my shoulders from behind. 

I felt crowded and restricted by his oh-so-sudden show of affection. Dante was not an affectionate man.

"Did you know it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?" I say, wiping my lips and putting the glass back in the cabinet.

"I don't believe in luck." He whispers, his hot breath fanning my ear.

I turn, getting his arms off me. 

 "Did you know that the pack is in debt?" I ask, staring him down.

He evades my eyes, picking up the whiskey bottle I had just been drinking from. "You have quite the alcohol limit, darling."

I know he is trying to buy himself time. Dante is proud and unintelligent, but not outright stupid. 

"Talk."

"I answer to no one. I won't start with you." He says coldly.

"Oh, that's huge!" I say sarcastically. "Let's throw your ridiculous ego in, shall we?"

He stares at me, his eyes flashing. "You've been listening to gossip." He says, trying to intimidate me with his size. 

Compared to Lucien, he is like a petulant boy who throws regular tantrums. I walk around him, trying to hide the way my face is flushed. It was an inappropriate time to think of Lucien.

Dante stills suddenly, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

 I take a step back and he mirrors my action with a menacing step forward. He closes a fist painfully in my hair, making me wince. 

He forces my head back. I look into his eyes and see an anger I have never seen before.

"You have his scent on you."

My eyes widened. I had to mask Lucien's scent. It seems as though Lucien had wanted Dante to recognize his scent. 

To know that he has been here and that he is returning.

"Where is he?" Dante asks, his eyes flashing. I could see the blue in his eyes redden till good eyes were the same shade as the sun at dusk. 

He is more furious than I have ever seen him.

"Where is he?" He repeats

"Gone." I ground out, gritting my teeth. He lets go of my hair and watches me step back and massage my scalp.

He runs his fingers through his hair thoughtfully. "He'll be back. And I'll be ready when he does."