Chapter 4 4

MATEO

I haven’t been touched in ten years.

Not like that.

And yet…

This time, I felt nothing.

No panic, no revulsion, no memory forcing its way back in.

Just silence and… peace?

Why, though?

Why with her?

Is it because she's my… mate?

My fingers flex slightly at my side as I walk, but the sensation is still there, faint but present like my skin is refusing to forget the feel of a non-rotting human skin against mine.

Hers.

The way her hand wrapped around my wrist.

The way she held on.

The way I didn’t pull away.

My jaw tightens.

That shouldn’t have happened.

It never happens.

Not once in ten years.

Not since—

I stop that thought before it finishes, but it doesn’t matter because it’s already there.

The heat. The smell. The weight pressed against me for days while I laid there trapped, unable to move and unable to breathe.

My hand curls into a fist.

And for a second, I wait for that reaction, that familiar disgust and that need to scrub my skin raw but it doesn't come.

I exhale slowly as I continue walking deeper into the room, and I don’t look back, even though the urge is there, even though I can feel her presence behind me like it hasn’t left.

I ignore it and shove my hand back into my pocket.

When people try to stop me, to speak, to congratulate, I give them a small, tight-lipped smile and keep going.

Goddess knows I don't have the patience for meaningless conversation. But hell, it's necessary for this facade of a wedding because apparently, Skylar knows a lot of people 

As soon as I reach the edge of the room, my gaze lifts and I catch Skylar’s eyes across the room.

She’s already watching me.

Her lips curve into a small smile before she starts walking toward me, composed and graceful like always.

She's a good actor. I will give her that.

I don’t move to meet her halfway like any gentleman will do.

When she reaches me, her presence settles beside me easily like it belongs there, like this is what people expect to see.

Her eyes flick past me almost immediately, searching.

“Where’s she?” she asks.

“Who?” I ask, my voice devoid of any emotion.

She scoffs. “Amelia.”

My eyes dart to the spiralling staircase in search of her but there's no sight of any 5”1’ golden brown haired lady in cream colored flowing gown.

“She’s fine?” I reply, but it comes out as more of a question.

She grits her teeth, disappointment flashing in her eyes as her eyes starts to scan the room again.

Then, they snap to mine again.

“Did you leave her?” She asks.

“Why not?” I ask. “I didn't bring her. And moreover, she looks old enough to take care of herself, don't she?”

Her mother clicks her tongue, the sound low and disapproving, and for a second her composure slips just enough to show anger behind them.

“She’s been ‘old enough’ since the day she was born,” Skylar mutters, not even bothering to lower her voice completely, and there’s a hint of irritation there.

I say nothing simply because I don't care that much.

I don't know Skylar enough to know about her and Amelia.

“That girl has never learned to keep her head down and lay low,” she says, complaining.

Then she straightens slightly, smoothing down the front of her dress as her expression shifts back into that polished, composed look.

“I’ll go find her,” she adds, already turning away.

I watch her retreating back for a moment before my gaze drops back to my wrist where she'd held me.

I twist it, inspecting it for any marks or swollen reactions but there's none.

It's somehow hard to believe.

That shouldn’t have been possible.

So I test it.

Before I can think it through or reconsider, my hand moves, reaching out toward the man standing closest to me, one of the guests still trying to get my attention.

My fingers brush his arm and instantly, it hits hard.

The revulsion slams into me instantly, sharp and overwhelming, and my stomach turns as dizziness follows, forcing me to pull my hand back just as fast.

A breath leaves me uneven, but I force it back under control, forcing my expression into something neutral and passable.

“Sorry,” I mutter, offering a tight, brief smile as if it was nothing but an accident.

The man laughs it off or at least tries too, eyes gleaming with excitement.

They all know I don't allow people touch me and I don't touch people. And I'm sure this man is going to brag about it to others.

My hand curls slightly at my side.

So it wasn’t gone nor was it fixed.

It was just… absent with her.

And that makes it very much worse because now, it's not a question of whether something changed.

It's a question of why.

My gaze lowers again, my mind already moving and shifting.

This has always been the one thing I couldn’t control.

The one weakness I couldn’t eliminate.

The one thing that made everything else—

Incomplete.

That’s why this arrangement exists.

Why Skylar and I stand in front of people and pretend this is something it’s not because it benefits us both and keeps everything balanced while hiding what needs to be hidden.

However, this changes that.

And for the first time, there's a solution.

Maybe the moon goddess is benevolent after all.

And I'm not one to let an opportunity slip by me

So, I'll use it.

I'll use her.

Because I don’t intend to live with this weakness any longer.