Chapter 8 : Rejected by the One

Constance

The next morning, after I had finished breaking my fast, I was invited back to the Council Chamber to discuss matters with the King. I dressed in a light pink dress that looked appealing against my tanned skin. I didn’t know why I cared so much about my appearance. I knew it was stupid to try and attract Silas, especially with bigger things on the horizon.

However, I couldn’t help my thoughts from interrupting my rationality. If he felt the connection, wouldn’t he have said something by now?

Regardless, I smoothed my dress in the mirror, taking the time to brush out my hair and tie it at the nape of my neck. I looked simple, plain but pleasant.

Harriet stood behind me, holding out my shoes. She had offered to help me change, but I told her no, as I had done several times before. For some reason, the young woman couldn’t understand why I refused her service.

“His Majesty appointed me as your lady in waiting,” she noted. “It is my duty to serve you, milady.”

I looked at her kindly, taking the shoes from her and sitting on the bed.

“I know, and it’s nothing against you, Harriet. But this is important to me. I need to be able to do these things on my own. I’m tired of people waiting on me hand and foot. You may not realize this, but there is a certain pleasure in taking care of yourself, a certain sense of independence.”

Harriet gave me a bemused look. “You mean you aren’t independent? But you are a princess! Surely you have authority and standing?”

I laughed. “No, I’m afraid not. Being born into nobility isn’t all that they say it is. There is a certain decorum you must follow, expectations you are obligated to commit to. Before…before I left home…I had to do exactly as I was told. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Harriet shook her head as I finished strapping on my shoes and stood up. “I see,” she replied, but I could tell she was still confused.

I walked to the main door and opened it, much to Harriet’s objection. I was still turned toward her, about to say something, when my passage through the door was suddenly blocked.

Startled, I let out an “oof” before I looked up into stone-cold eyes.

Silas stood on the other side of the door, staring down at me with the expression of an angry bull. His arms were crossed over his solid chest, his neck muscles building with each inhale. His jaw was working as he glared from me to Harriet and then back to me.

“King Declan requested that I escort you to his chambers,” Silas noted gruffly.

I blinked up at him, my voice having abandoned me. The King’s chambers? But I thought it was the Council Chamber?

“Are you coming?” he asked, making no move to step aside and let me leave my room.

Quickly and not so gracefully, I nodded my head. He spun on his heels and strode quickly in the other direction. I looked back at Harriet, who ushered me along with the motion of her hands. Realizing she wasn’t coming with me, I followed along the narrow passage after Silas.

The hulking man angled through the small corridor, his size almost too large for the slender walls. I watched as his rigid body seemed to glide across the floor, his head barely bobbing with each step.

I could tell he was a very well-trained man with skills that could kill when necessary. I knew the type. Wilson was the same way before…before everything.

We continued down one hallway and then another, each blending with the other, broken up only by a plant here or a painting there. Everything looked the same to my own castle, and yet none of it was familiar.

At last, unable to take the silence, I asked him, “Your name is Silas, right?”

He huffed a silent “yes,” as we continued on through the castle.

“That’s a lovely name,” I commented. “It means ‘lover of nature,’ doesn’t it? I think I remember one of my tutors mentioning something like that.”

He scoffed, not looking at me.

“What?” I said. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“Do you really think your ‘tutors’ knew everything?” he asked, again, not looking at me.

“Well, not everything,” I told him. “But they taught me everything I needed to lead my people.”

“Did they also teach you how to survive outside your castle walls? Did they show you how to defend yourself against those who would do you harm?”

Suddenly, he turned around, his pale eyes slicing into me, his teeth set in a deep snarl. “Did they teach you anything useful?”

I stared at him, shocked and unable to move. The viciousness in his voice was something I had not expected. I took a step back, but no more. I didn’t want to let him see the fear in my eyes.

I fisted my hands at my sides and thrust my chin forward.

“They taught me enough,” I said. “It’s because of them that I’m here today. Believe it or not, I’m not just here to run and hide. I had to fight to get here.”

He growled a deep-throated rumble that shook the air around him. I could sense the anger rising in him, threatening to spill over. No matter what he portrayed, behind it all, I felt the strong sensation of the bond between us. He sensed it, too. I knew he did, and I wanted him to admit it.

“Do you feel it?” I blurted.

He stopped directly in front of a door, which I assumed to be the King’s chambers by the marking on the door. However, I paid them no mind, as Silas spun angrily to face me.

His face was inches from mine, but he was steaming. When I asked the question, his face melted but only partially. Recognition flared in his eyes, and I knew I was right. He did feel it. He had to. But then, that recognition died and was replaced with disgust.

“No,” he said at once.

The word felt like a slap to the face like the floor had been ripped from under my feet.

“What?” I whispered. Was I mistaken? But it didn’t make sense! “That’s not possible. It’s not…you have to!”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he snarled.

I searched his eyes for some semblance of emotion, but there was none. He was devoid of it all.

“But, I…we…I-I can’t be mistaken,” I muttered out, curious as to how this happened. This wasn’t what mate bonds were. If I felt it, he had to of too.

Despite his rigid and expressionless face, I could sense the coldness of his heart. He eventually spoke, his lips almost touching mine.

"You're mistaken,” he declared, his hot breath caressing my face. “I don't share your emotions, and I never will. Whatever you think we have between us, we don’t. I could never love a princess like you.”

His words sliced through me, and I couldn’t move. No, this was all wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Not like this.

But he didn’t stop there. He continued, and I never would’ve expected what came next.

His silver eyes glistened in the light coming from a nearby window, and my body tremored as he spoke. “I Silas Davila, I reject you, Constance Caldwell, Princess of the Northern Territory and Wind Lake Pack, as my mate."

Spiraling. I was spiraling downward. I swore I heard my heart break and fragment even further into several shards, cutting me as they fell. Silas stepped back, his gaze still fixed on mine. It was expressionless, like I was just a pest under his shoe.

Why was this happening? Mate bonds were so unique, so rare, that I thought anyone would jump at the thought of having one. But he didn’t. Rather, he rejected me. Why?

I didn’t have time to ask. Silas spun on his heel and left me alone in the corridor, his back quickly disappearing behind a curtain of my tears. I felt the world slipping away from me, fading into a void that was my heart.

I had heard of being rejected by a mate before, but it was so rare, I never even thought it would happen…to me. The feeling was like having a part of you being torn off, a vital component of your being taken away, and you’re helpless against it.

As your lifeblood seeps out of you, you become lost in a cloud of your own emotions, forever blocked from the light that was the one you were meant for.

I leaned against the cold stone wall, hoping it would jolt me out of the numbness that had taken over me. It seemed like all the grief I had ever felt since my parents' passing, and all the grief that could ever exist was overwhelming me all at once. It was a tsunami of emotional pain caused by the man I believed was meant for me. How could I have been so wrong?

Eventually, as my tears ran dry and the wall could no longer support me, I pushed myself away from it, wiping my face with the back of my hand. I felt hollow as though nothing had ever been there to begin with.

I stood there for countless moments before the door to the King's chambers opened and light spilled into the hallway.

It was the King, dressed in nothing more than casual trousers and a cotton shirt. He looked almost handsome in the low light without his gaudy clothes to hide his natural charm.

He smiled at me, pleased to see me, but then frowned when he saw the dried tears on my cheeks.

“Princess, are you all right?” he asked. The question was sincere, but I could only feel the emptiness inside me.

I nodded, unable to speak, still reeling with the loss of too much to even bear.

“Please, come in,” he said, ushering me inside.

I knew I should have been cautious, allowing myself to be taken into the King’s bed chambers without a chaperone. This sort of thing was never done. And even as he closed the door and I knew I would be helpless if anything were to happen, I didn’t care.

I was too lost in my own pain to care much about anything.

I felt his warm hand guide me to a small alcove where two chairs were resting along the wall. He sat me down in one of them and then sat in the other. He took one of my hands, still shaking, and looked at me with gentle eyes.

“What is it, my dear? Why do you cry? Has someone hurt you?” But after a moment, he thought better of himself. “Of course. It is your parents, your pack. You’ve lost them, and you are still grieving. Forgive me for not being more considerate. I know this has been the hardest on you.

“But you don’t need to worry any longer. As I’ve said, I’ll take care of you now. My armies are quite vast, and I have more than enough warriors to spare. You will be safe as long as you are with me.”

The way he said those words “with me” made me shiver. I had the feeling he meant more than merely being in the same room as him or within the same walls. His hand tightened around mine, offering me comfort and solace where none existed.

His hand was warm, whereas mine was so cold. I wanted to feel warm again, to be happy again. But as Declan leaned forward ever so slightly, I suddenly grew afraid and ripped my hand away from his quickly. I shoved them underneath me, feigning nervous unease.

“I’ll tell you something," he continued. "It’s not right for you to be alone during these perilous times. I think that you should join me this evening for dinner. I had originally asked you here so that I might ask about your condition. Well, I’ve figured that out well enough. So, what do you say? Will you join me this evening?”

His face looked excited by the possibility like a boy being rewarded with ice cream. My mind told me no, that it wasn’t safe, but my heart, which yearned for companionship, forced my head to nod.

With a wide smile on his face, the King applauded. "Wonderful! I will arrange for a new dress to be sent to you. I am certain that you would appreciate a change from those ordinary clothes. They are not suitable for someone of your status. I will make sure to replace them with something more fitting."

His words, though meant to be kind and pleasant, only sent daggers through my heart.

People called me princess, but the truth was, I wasn't one anymore. The North was gone and I had no kingdom left. My pack was murdered. I was alone.

And if I wasn't a princess or a mate…then who was I?