Lorcan & Evette

Chapter Twenty-One

After that talk, the werewolf left her with much to think about. Evie decided, as she pondered it all, that it might have been too much for her to handle.

She knew what she'd seen in that vision. The werewolf King had been happy. Surely he couldn't be happy if he wasn't happy with his mate.

Now, Evie didn't claim to know a lot about werewolf mates, but she knew enough to know a smile on the King's face couldn't really be genuine if there was trouble in the waters back home.

Which could only mean one thing.

In the future, he and his mate were going to patch up that divide between them.

Evie didn't like the way that made her feel.

I'm not jealous. Gods no. I'm fine. Perfectly fine. Just peachy.

It wasn't like she cared about the werewolf King anyway, so there was nothing to be jealous of. Besides, there was no way she'd feel jealousy over a woman she'd never met. There was no way she was jealous in general. Evie didn't want the King like that. What she did want, however, was the happiness.

Maybe she really was cursed.

There was no way the universe hated her this much.

She nibbled her lip and threw a subtle glance over at the werewolf. As the sky outside of the car began to darken, he kept his eyes trained on the road.

As a werewolf, he was blessed with supernatural reflexes. When he felt her stare, he trusted himself enough to glance over for a moment. He raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat.

"Everything alright Evie?"

"Hmm? Oh, everything's great. Just great."

If he and his mate were going to make up, would he tell her about how they'd been? Nothing had really happened between them, but at the same time, everything had happened.

Even now, he carried the scraps of her lingerie in his pocket.

With nothing else to think about, the thoughts were whizzing through her head too quickly. None of them were positive.

"I thought we were past the lying," the King said quietly.

"I'm not lying."

"I can hear your heart, witch. If something's wrong, you have to tell me."

"I was just thinking about you and your mate."

Lorcan's stomach dropped. The last thing he needed was the witch thinking about that. He knew she was smart. If she thought about it enough, she'd figure out the truth.

"Don't worry about it," he said, trying to seem casual. "There's nothing there."

Nothing there for you to worry about.

"But something will be, won't it?" He spared her another glance. Did she know something that he didn't? "Those mate bonds your kind have aren't a measly date or shag. You wolves believe you're made perfect for each other."

"Enough now."

"But-"

"No more questions."

He always did this. So she was supposed to answer things she didn't want to hear about but he didn't have to?

"No. I'm interested." His fingers tightened around the wheel. "When you and your mate kiss and make up- which you will- what will you tell her about this? You know—the little things you've done with me. I doubt she'd appreciate knowing you've shared the same bed as me at night or the things you've done to me."