Chapter 16: Don’t Say My Name

Maeve

“He just left? Just got up and left?” Gemma picked at her fingernails, looking over at me from perch on the couch. We were in the atrium, a towering four-story high addition to the backside of the castle where the windows stretched to the ceiling and almost microscopic hoses ran along the beams, showering hundreds of plants in a steady flow of mist. It was what I imagined a jungle would look and feel like.

I fingered one of the leaves of a massive Monstera vine, marveling at the size of a leaf before turning to Gemma and taking a seat at on a wicker lounge chair across from her, folding my hands in my lap. “I don’t think he even, uh, finished?”

Seriously?” She sat up a little straighter, her eyes wide.

“I mean, I don’t know…”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No! Nothing. He just left. I haven’t even seen him since last night. Maybe it wasn’t… good? Good enough for him?”

Gemma rolled her eyes, “Maeve, come on. Ask any man what constitutes good sex and they will say sex in general!”

I blushed, pressing my hands between my thighs. “I must have done something wrong.”

I definitely felt like I had done something wrong. I knew I had been difficult; he had made that very clear. We had ended up in a tangle of sheets on the floor, and not in a sexy way. Oh, yeah, it was my fault. He was expecting me to be submissive, unyielding. I had failed.

“It’s not your fault,” Gemma said gently, her eyes piercing mine as she willed me to believe her. “Something’s up with that guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“He is not what I thought he’d be. Nothing like the Aaron I met when his family visited Winter Forest.”

“Come on, Gem! I told you it’s been ten years since-”

“He looks nothing like he should, Maeve! He was a blond! Kind of a weakling!”

“Who says hair color can’t change? Rowan’s hair was nearly as light as mine until he reached his twenties. Now it’s as dark as Dad’s!”

“His eyes, Maeve? Don’t you think we both would’ve remembered those eyes? How often do you meet someone with eyes of two different colors, hmm?”

“Well, do you remember what his eyes looked like, Gemma? I don’t! He told me they got more pronounced as he got older-”

“Oh please, how is that even possible?”

paused, biting my lip.

“It’s not possible!”

“What are you saying, Gemma? Do you think he’s not that he’s not Aaron? Who else could he be?”

“I don’t know! I’m only saying he rubs me the wrong way, okay? Like he’s hiding something.”

“I think you’re the one hiding something!” I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes at her.

She arched her brow, leaning forward in her chair. I was being defensive, trying to cover my own shame and suspicion by bringing up the one thing I currently had against her. It was a dance we’d done since my childhood, really. Gemma would try to talk some sense into me, and I would clam up, my only option being to accept defeat or throw it back at her. I never accepted defeat.

“Why are you defending Aaron when he—”

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Chapter 16: Don’t Say My Name

Lv. 1

“Why was your sweater in Ernest’s office?”

She blanched, the color draining from her cheeks as she abruptly looked away from me, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “What did he say about it?”

“He looked guilty and embarrassed,” I said, trying to remain heated, but my mouth was twitching into a smile, a laugh choking me.

She snorted, waving her hand in dismissal, but I could see the same look of embarrassment lingering behind her eyes, mingled with a sense of sadness.

“What’s wrong, Gemma? I was only… I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s your business.”

“And I guess Aaron is your business too, huh? I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

We looked at each other for a moment, silence passing between us.

Till tell you why the sweater was in his office if you tell me what’s really going on between you and Aaron,” she said, her tone serious and her expression controlled.

I nodded, my chest tightening at the challenge of putting my feelings into words. Gemma was the only person I could talk to about this who would understand.

“Do you want me to go first?”

“No, I’ll go.” She stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of me, looking down at the ground. She came to a stop, rounding on me, her eyes glossy with what looked like tears.

“Gemma?”

“He’s my mate, Maeve.”

“Who? Ernest?!”

She nodded, her face pinking again, a slight smile touching her face.

“So you guys are a thing, then?”

“No. No, we’re not.”

“Uh, why not? You’ve been waiting to feel the mate bond for so long,”

he doesn’t feel it. He

“I felt it the second I laid eyes on him, the very second I walked through the doors of the castle. But thinks— I’ve been flirting with him, trying to get a reaction out of him. I even kissed him.”

“And what did he do?*

“He liked it. He wanted more….”

“And?” The anticipation was killing me. Gemma was the queen of dragging things along to keep her audience captive.copy right hot novel pub