Chapter 446

Rafe’s stomach sinks to his feet and he ducks his head, clenching his empty whiskey glass in his hand. Because this is…this is the worst possible way he could ever imagine Maryam finding out about their bond.

“Mark!” Dominic barks, pointing solidly to his side, demanding that his son come to heel. Mark ducks his shoulders, glancing apology at Rafe as he does as he’s told, moving to stand next to his father.

Slowly, Maryam starts through the room, advancing towards Rafe. He hears every one of her footsteps and sighs, lifting his head, meeting her eyes as she stops ten feet from him, hatred radiating off of her in waves.

“What did he just say?” she snarls, pointing at Mark, her words slipping from between clenched teeth.

Rafe sighs and stands straight, meeting his mate’s gaze, knowing that she deserves more than for him to cower right now.

“He said that you’re my mate, Maryam.”

A stir goes through the room but Rafe doesn’t look at anyone but her, at this…fairly magnificent creature standing before him, powerful and delicate and vicious. Even as anxiety and regret turns in him, Rafe’s wolf howls his pleasure. Rafe’s mental hands snaps out, wrapping around his wolf’s muzzle because…this is not the time for that.

A laugh, thick with derision, slips from Maryam’s lips as she leans forward to stare at Rafe in disbelief. “Tell me this is a joke,” she demands, her voice harsh. “A stupid, very poorly conceived joke – the kind of bullshit trick you Alphas play on your human guests just to embarrass them.”

“It’s not a joke, Maryam,” Rafe responds, his voice low and serious. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

She guffaws again, disbelief all over her face for a moment until…until something shifts, and she stands straight, suddenly realizing that…

That he’s telling the truth. That he fucking means this – that he actually believes that he is her mate.

Maryam’s mouth falls slack and she just…stares. Stares into the prince’s impossibly handsome face, her eyes flashing all over him, his form, judging him. Rafe stands true and steady, ready to be judged, letting her see that he is unwavering in his conviction that she’s his. Utterly his, forever, his mate.

And as he watches, Maryam rankles under this silent claiming.

“Bullshit,” she snarls, leaning forward towards him, her hands tightening at her sides, her teeth flashing in – well, in rather a wolfish way. Rafe’s wolf dances from paw to paw, loving it, loving the strength in her, the defiance.

“Maryam, I’m very sorry,” Rafe says, taking a step towards her with a hand out, sending his little brother a hearty glare from the corner of his eye. “This is not the way I wanted you to find out –“

“Find out!” She spits back, laughing a little at the ridiculousness of it all. “Find out what that you – that you just…fucking claim me!? That I’m yours all of a sudden, your fucking mate – that you own me!? And what – I – I have no choice in this or whatever!?”

She spins to stare at everyone else in the room, appalled and shocked.

“And all of you are just – just going to stand there!? And let him make this ridiculous claim!?”

“Maryam,” Hank says, his voice quite gentle as he begins to cross the room to his daughter, his eyes full of worry and sympathy for his daughter. “It’s not…like that –“

“Even you won’t stand by me on this!?” Maryam gasps, stumbling back a step away from her father. But she quickly turns again, realizing that the step takes her closer to Rafe and moving hastily away, pressing her hands out to the side like she wants to keep everyone away – wants to stand completely apart.

“Maryam,” Hank snaps, drawing her eyes back to him. “Of course I’m on your side,” he says, arriving next to her and holding out his hand, begging her to take it. “But, please, love – you…you are vastly misunderstanding if you think that any wolf – and especially any Sinclair – would make this kind of statement as a joke.”

Maryam begins to pant in her panic, staring at her father in disbelief. Then she snarls again, her eyes moving around the room, hate in the set of her jaw, in her eyes.

“No,” she snarls, roughly shaking her head, standing up tall and proud. “No. I am – I am not going to be claimed – claimed just because you,” she spins to Rafe here, “you like me or something. Absolutely not! I fucking refuse!”

Rafe’s wolf howls in regret and his face falls in sorrow and horror to see her so upset, to see her panic like this. God, he couldn’t imagine this going any worse –

“Maryam, please,” Rafe begs, taking another step towards her. “Please just talk to me – it’s not like that, not at all –“

“You stay the fuck away from me,” she snarls, taking a vicious step towards him, stopping him in his tracks. She holds out a hand towards him, palm out. “I – I refuse this. Or what – whatever fucking thing it is that you say. What is it?”

She pants a little in her panic, looking around the room again for some help. But everyone’s face – everyone’s, her father’s included – is rich with a great depth of sadness and pity. Maryam, finding no recourse there, turns her vicious gaze back to Rafe.

It cuts him in his soul, the hatred in her gaze. Deep, like a knife.

“I reject you, Rafe Sinclair – or whatever the fuck it is they say to make this end. Categorically, unequivocally – no. I – I will not have this – I will not have you. You have absolutely no claim on me, ever!”

She stands to her full height then, rage pulsing through her, and then turns striding for the door. She shoves past Jesse and Ariel who stumble out of her way, yanking the door open and striding out into the hall.

The sound of the door slamming behind her echoes through the silent room.

Rafe…doesn’t breathe.

He just…stares. Stares after her. Wondering what the fuck he’s supposed to do now.

The party breaks up awkwardly, with Cora and Roger quietly gathering their kids together and ushering them out the door. I watch them go without protest for once, their eyes wide as they realize the gravity of the moment, even if they don’t realize what happened.

I stand between Jesse and Jackson as the people not staying in the palace tonight pack up their things and say their quiet goodnights. Mom is at Rafe’s side, of course – she was the first to move after poor Maryam left. Hank quickly gave his apologies and followed after his daughter, eager to comfort her in whatever way he could.

And even though I know in my heart that he doesn’t deserve it, pity swells in me for Mark, who is getting the scolding of a lifetime from our dad in the corner of the room.

My mouth turns down in a deep frown as I look over at the pair of them – dad laying into Mark about responsibility and needing to realize the gravity of certain issues, of considering the consequences of his actions before he makes any moves. But my poor baby Mark – he’s all pale, and his head is hanging, and he just looks so ashamed.

“Don’t you dare, you big softie,” Jesse murmurs to me, glancing over at me with a tiny smile. “Mark deserves every bit of that.”

“He’s just a little guy,” I whisper, my hands pressing to my cheeks as I glance at Jesse and then back at Mark. “He didn’t know what he was doing.”

“You baby him, Ari,” Jacks murmurs at my side. I look up at him with a very, very small snarl. But he just shrugs, standing by his words. “He’s older than June, and yet you hold him to a much lower standard.”

“It’s true,” Jesse murmurs. “If June did this, you’d be flipping out at her.”

I sigh, snapping my hands to my hips, realizing that they’re right and totally hating it. “Fine. I will now redirect all pity to Rafe.”

“Good choice,” Jesse says, smirking at me. “Come on, let’s go get our boy. He’s going to need some council and cheering up from all of us, who are wise and mated and can give him the guidance he needs.”

“Oh, you just want to drink more and make him tell you the whole story,” I sigh, following along after Jesse as he starts to move towards mom and Rafe, grabbing Jackson’s hand and towing him along with me as we go.

“That too!” Jesse calls over his shoulder, forcing himself to be more cheerful than I think he feels. “All right, Auntie Ells,” he says, interrupting her as we all arrive at Rafe’s side. “We’re taking over from here.”

Mom hesitates for a moment, wrapping her arm around Rafe’s and looking around at us for a second. But then she sighs and lets him go. Rafe’s head hangs and he loses his balance a little, leaning on mom physically and emotionally as he was. “All right, but you be nice to my meatball,” she says, narrowing her eyes around at all of us. “He’s had a hard night.”

“We promise,” Jesse says, slinging an arm around Rafe’s shoulders and grinning at him. “Kindness and whiskey. Come on, we’ll go up to the yurt, let Midnight feed you cookies.”

Rafe sighs and glances at mom for one more moment before nodding and shifting his weight to lean on Jesse. “Cookies sound good. Yurt sounds good. Let’s do it.”

“Let’s go!” Jesse calls out, striding out the door with Rafe pressed close to his side.

I pause only a moment to step close to my mom and press a kiss to her cheek. “Tell dad to go easy on Mark, okay?” I whisper. Mom grins at me and nods and then gives me a little swat on my rump as Jackson wraps an arm warm around my waist and the two of us likewise head towards the door.