Her Mates

30

Dorian's words settled over me like a heavy weight, suffocating the lingering warmth of the moment we had just shared. Emilia stepped back completely, her body going rigid, and I could feel the shift in the air—like something fragile was about to snap.

"What did she do now?" I asked, my voice steadier than I expected.

Dorian exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before stepping fully into the room, shutting the door behind him. He didn't say anything right away, and that only made the anxiety claw at my chest.

"She's spreading more rumors," he finally said, his jaw clenched. "But this time, she's not just targeting you."

A cold chill ran down my spine. "What do you mean?"

Emilia crossed her arms, her expression dark. "She's telling people we've been keeping secrets from you. That you're just some... plaything to us. That we're not serious about you."

I laughed, but the sound was hollow. "That's ridiculous."

Dorian's expression didn't change.

My stomach dropped. "Isn't it?"

Emilia swore under her breath, pacing toward the window. "She's twisting the truth," she muttered. "She knows about the past. About us."

The past. The word alone made my throat tighten.

Because there was still so much I didn't know.

I swallowed hard. "Then tell me," I said, my voice quieter now. "If she's twisting things, if she's trying to make me doubt you... then tell me the truth so I don't have to."

Dorian and Emilia exchanged a glance.

It was subtle, but I caught it. The hesitation.

My stomach clenched. "Are you serious right now?"

"Maeve—"

"No," I cut Emilia off, my pulse roaring in my ears. "If you expect me to trust you, you need to trust me, too. I'm not some fragile thing that's going to break just because of what Lena says."

Dorian let out a slow breath, stepping closer to me. "We were involved before," he admitted, his voice low. "Before you joined the pack. Before any of us really understood what this was. It wasn't like this, not like what we have now. It was... complicated."

Complicated.

That word felt like a knife.

"Did you love her?" I asked.

Dorian's lips parted slightly, but he didn't answer.

That was answer enough.

I took a step back. "I see."

Emilia cursed again, spinning toward me. "Maeve, it's not what you think—"

"Then explain it to me!" I snapped. "Because from where I'm standing, it sounds like you're all keeping things from me. Like there are pieces of this I don't get to know."

Dorian's expression darkened. "It's not about keeping things from you," he said, voice firm. "It's about the fact that she's trying to manipulate you, and we didn't want to give her more power by dredging up old wounds."

I wanted to believe him.

I wanted to believe that Lena was just stirring the pot, that this wasn't a reason to doubt my mates.

But the thing about trust?

It was fragile.

And right now, I wasn't sure mine wasn't already cracking.