DIANA'S POV
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No. No. No.
That was the only word repeating in my head, the one word failing to leave my lips. I would not let Elijah sink his teeth into me. No. Ahhh… oh… wow.
His tongue flicked against the lobe of my ear, and all I wanted was to lean closer until there was no space between us. Oh no, this was wrong. This was the same man who had rejected me.
I shouldn't… ah, damn, not there.
My whole body shook with pleasure, waves of it pulsing low and hot inside me.
"You want me," he whispered, pressing his mouth to the hollow of my neck.
My pulse thundered. I wanted his teeth, his bite. Damn it, it was my body betraying me, not me. Dear goddess, what was happening? His fingers slipped the sleeve of my dress down, baring my shoulder and the upper swell of my chest.
No. I cannot want him. This is wrong.
"Come to the pack. Be my bride. Leave your fiancé."
Damn you, Elijah. I want to smash his head with a glass jar. I want to kick him for having this hold on me. Does he always have this much power?
My breath comes out heavy and ragged, a loud pant. Elijah stops what he is doing and stares down at me. His lips and eyes are glossy, taking me in as if he could claim every part of me. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks.
No. No. No. Then I say yes. I blink and step back, my hands shaking as I smooth my dress. "Please go. Never come back."
I cannot meet his eyes. I am ashamed I let him touch me.
"How long are you going to keep denying it?" he asked, stepping toward me, his brow low. "Diana, we are mates."
"I am not your mate." I turned on him, chest heaving, tears blurring the corners of my eyes. "I reject you, Elijah Thorn. I reject you as my mate."
He closed his eyes and the line at his jaw tightened. The words hit him; I could see his hands clench in his pockets.
"Why?" I whispered, because the good part of me still wanted to hear him out, still wanted to understand why I had been treated that way.
He opened his eyes but kept them on the floor. His hands stayed buried in his trouser pockets. He still wore the wedding trousers and the white buttoned shirt, the kind of man who usually dressed in jeans and tunics. "I had only become the alpha," he said at last. "I didn't know better."
"yes, you do." I slapped the words at him, voice sharp. He stared at me, mouth open.
"Diana, I didn't… I—"
"You did." I folded my hands and shook my head. He had looked at me with certainty; he had not looked away. It all made sense why he would deny it. "You were ashamed of me."
"No," he breathed. "I wouldn't, Diana."
"My mother was a maid," I whispered. "The lowest of omegas. I heard people called her strange." Tears fell freely, but I smiled through them as memory steadied me. I remembered why I left the pack. I remembered why I would never go back to him, even if the moon goddess refused to break the bond.
"Daina..."
He started to speak, but I cut him off.
"No one respected her. I don't know the whole story of how my father got her pregnant, but I am certain he did not love her. If he had, he would have loved me." I shut my eyes. I did not want to think about those days, but the memories pressed in: the maltreatment, my father looking the other way while everything happened.
"He barely looked at me when my stepmother slapped me." I shook my head, walked to the bed, and sat down. I stared at the wall while feeling his gaze fixed on me.
"And to make it worse, I came out weak in their eyes. No one respected me, no one loved me, no one treated me like I belonged—except you."
"Diana… my godd..."
"And then, in front of everyone, you denied me. You rejected me. You looked at me with disgust." I spat the last words like they were poison.
"Diana, you know I would never look at you with… hate," he said.
"Oh please." I rolled my eyes. Was he really playing this game? "I know your type. You enjoy someone's company in secret, but when it comes to telling the world about them, you deny them. To everyone else I am nothing, and you cannot be seen with someone who is nothing. I know you, Elijah. You do not have to pretend that you are not ashamed of me."
He said nothing. I did not need to look at him to feel his presence. Damn him. I hated that his face could still make me ache, hated how I used to marvel at his voice when he laughed.
"Can you please go?" I whispered. My voice was barely audible. I was exhausted and could not think with him so close.
He didn't move, the silence weighing down on us. Then he said softly, "Do you know the story of Alexia Vandel?"
I blinked. "Who?"
"The first female alpha," he explained, his gaze never leaving mine. "She was powerful, but cursed. The heat she carried between her legs nearly consumed her. It only calmed when her true mate claimed her."
My breath caught. "But I'm an omega. What does that have to do with me?"
He sighed. "I know. But the heat—it won't go away, except…" His eyes searched mine.
"Except if you claim me?"
He nodded. "If you're claimed by the wrong person, it could…"
"I am not an alpha," I hissed. "I don't even have the strength of your second. Whatever happened to Alexia could never happen to me. No one loses control unless they're powerful."
"I know. But it's still dangerous."
I rolled my eyes and looked away, but then he added quietly, "No female feels the heat between her legs. Only Alexia Vandel… and now, you."