Eight Years Of A Fake Mate Bond Chapter 07

Eight Years Of A Fake Mate Bond Chapter 07

Alaric figured I’d toss the notes unread, so he scrawled his words straight across the front of every envelope.

That familiar handwriting traced all the way back to the day we first met.

It covered big moments like his confession, and tiny trivial things—one rainy day I’d forgotten my umbrella. He’d held onto every single memory without missing a beat.

I’d never planned to read any of it.

The second deliveries hit, I dumped the bouquets straight into the trash bins outside the studio.

Still, little snippets of writing caught my eye every time I picked up the flowers.

He’d paid that much attention to every little detail about me once.

Maybe he really had loved me, once upon a time.

But that love had crumbled so easily the second his feelings for Maeve came into play.

The ballet studio ran on scent-locked entry doors, outsiders couldn’t wander in whenever they pleased.

Other than the daily flower courier, nothing reminded me of Alaric and Maeve.

That changed after a month-long closed training camp wrapped up. The whole troupe headed out for a group dinner at a Moon Bay.

—

restaurant.

And there he was again.

He looked far more worn down than the last time I’d seen him.

The second his eyes landed on me, he lit up with frantic desperation.

“Riona, wait.”

He reached out to grab me, but I stepped aside before his fingers touched my arm.

He watched me get pulled away by the other dancers, stood frozen for a beat, then hurried after me.

“Riona, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“I’m just begging for a shot to make this right, to do something to make up for all I’ve done.”

He kept his hands to himself, his gaze soft and full of anxious uncertainty.

I met his eyes evenly, voice quiet.

“Alaric, I don’t need it.”

His face paled a shade lighter the second the words left my mouth.

Before he could utter another word, I headed off with the rest of the ballet troupe.

Once the group dinner wrapped up, I walked out of the restaurant.

Someone else waited by the doors.

—

Maeve.

She was calmer this time—no screaming, no throwing herself to her knees. Only bone-deep exhaustion and heavy regret weighing on every inch of her.

“Riona, I’ve thought nonstop about everything these past weeks. I can’t even forgive myself for what I did.”

I tried to brush past her, but she clamped onto my arm, head drooping, too mortified to look me in the eye.

I tensed to pull free when she spoke again.

“I’ve severed my mate bond with Alaric.”

She fell silent after that, waiting for some kind of reaction from me.

I lifted my head and looked straight at her for the first time that night.

“I see. Is there anything else?”

Maeve went rigid, clearly stunned by how calm I sounded.

She hesitated, stumbling over her words.

“Riona, you get that? Our mate mark bond’s fully severed. You’re free to be with him now—”

“I heard every word.”

I cut her off.

“Nothing changes for me, whether you two are bonded or not.”

The faint spark of hope in Maeve’s eyes dimmed little by little.

—

Alaric, who’d been standing a short distance away, stayed quiet for a long moment before speaking, his voice rough and worn.

“Riona, we’ve thought this all through.”

“Maeve and I fought constantly these past months. What we once thought we couldn’t live without looks like nothing but a stupid joke now.”

A bitter, self-deprecating laugh escaped him.

“We finally realized the person we truly can’t stand to lose has always been you.”

He held my gaze steady, waiting for my answer.