Gifted

Chapter 26 - Sage

Grandfather had sent his driver to collect me and Pearl from our city apartment.

The urge to open the door and flee was all-consuming as erratic thoughts and irrational fears spread through my mind.

Stop, calm down. We can do this.

My wolf kept quiet.

Seeking to dispel my unease, my hand drifted smoothly across the material of my dress, the one my grandfather had delivered. It was truly a beautiful gown designed by Jenny Packham—silver sequined embellished with a rather plunging neckline, and one that was slightly over the top for the occasion.

I would have preferred to meet Victor in something a little more relaxed, less formal and with definitely less skin on show.

I was practically a gift-wrapped 'mail-order bride.'

Peering out the window, about to wear a hole in my cheek, worrying about my upcoming conversation with my grandfather.

A thought emerged. Perhaps a fresh approach to my problem?

Would it be better to speak with Victor, and share with him my feelings? Tell him I had no wish to marry a man who was practically a stranger?

Would he be more understanding once he understood my reservations about our arranged union?

Perhaps he didn't want this either?

My stomach stirred up anxiety mixed with unease at my task ahead, almost jumping when Pearl's hand squeezed mine. Turning, I offered a quick smile before focusing my attention to the outside world rushing by. Every mile an inch closer to what would inevitably be a battle of wills between myself and my grandfather.

"You okay Sage, talk to me?" Pearl asked, dragging me from my repetitive thoughts.

I wasn't. "Oui," replying absently, my response on autopilot.

"Don't bloody lie to me Sage—not me."

My head flipped around to meet her worried eyes. I didn't need my gift to sense her anger and frustration.

"Sorry Pearl, I'm worried if I think about it too hard, then I might crack open." It was true I had never been so conflicted, desperate to make him proud, I craved his approval, his love.

But I would live a lie if I didn't follow my heart and make my own choices. And my heart belonged to Hunter and not some American.

She squeezed my hand again. "None of this fucked up situation is okay Sage, but I'll be there with you and you're gonna leave there a free woman." She nudged my shoulder. "Well, maybe not a free woman, as it's my guess you've been well and truly taken by the head of Wolfe Industries, sex god, Hunter Stone."

My cheeks reddened. The notion of being his and him being mine sent a rush of excitement right through to my core. She was right. My mind drifted back to earlier.

"Do you think he's the one, y'know your mate?" she asked.

Sylar popped into my head. But was he even real? I couldn't sit around waiting for a dream man. Looking down at my wrist, I remembered the feel of his grip, The burning heat of his hand.

"My wolf seems to think he is."

"Ahh," she lifted her eyebrows. "But—Do you want him to be?"

Having read everything I could get my hands on with regards to 'Mates.' My grandfather had always told me they were an old wives' tale, used to control women over the years to ensure alpha's got what or who they desired.