ARTEMIS' POV
For once, the boys' dorm is dead quiet, and the only sounds that fill the night are from my footsteps echoing across the empty hallways and the relentless pounding of my heart.
It's been minutes since I'd left Kamila in my room, and although I'd convinced myself that a breath of fresh air was what I needed, I've soon realized that the choked-up atmosphere follows me wherever I go, eating up my sanity.
Being in that room with Kam or standing out here makes no difference, because the one thing I need to get away from is myself. The storm lies within me, so does the darkness and the rage.
For once, I wonder if the goddess is the ironic villain in our story - maybe she's having the time of her life just watching us fight and hurt each other. I bet she had her popcorn out just few minutes ago.
That's the most logical concept as to why we're mates. Many times, I'd doubted if the bond actually existed but trust me, I'd felt it. It came to be from the first time I'd met Kamila at a family function when I was just 13.
It had been completely unusual to find your mate that early, but my wolf had gone crazy just from the sight of her, and the sparks that filled my heart was unlike anything I've ever experienced - I was instantly hooked on the beautiful 12-year-old with dainty features and a breathtaking smile.
I remember it just like it was yesterday, and it fills my heart with a bitter ache; maybe because I know just how different Kamila has grown to be. She was once sweeter, kinder, softer, and with a certain charm no one could resist.
Over the years, I've watched her grow vile, vindictive, and at times like this, I wonder if it's because of me, if I'd truly turned her into a monster like she claims.
She was forced into a life where she had to deal with shitty men like me and her father, a life that being cunny and twisted has kept her one step ahead. Kamila had to sharpen her wits from a young age, dress with unrivalled elegance, and carry her head higher than the rest because her father would not accept anything less.
When we'd first discovered our mate bond, she didn't want me - which is the biggest irony in our story. She cried all night because, apparently, little Kamila wanted a blond guy as her mate and not a dark-haired devil like me.
I almost laugh.
I'd thought she would have rejected me then - in fact, she pinky swore she would - but the story changed when she walked in the next day with bruises covering her skin, and with a hard tug from her father, she accepted our bond.
She accepted me.
That sealed our fate and fatal damnation.
I let out a heavy breath at the memories.
Now, I'm standing in one of the many balconies and silently watching the night thrive with a certain still and peace I envied. While I let my thoughts consume me, there's a buzz from my phone. I immediately pull it out from my pocket, picking the call without checking.
I'm that desperate for a distraction.
"Hello?" I speak into the receiver.
The line is quiet at first until his calm, authoritative voice rings through.
"Artemis."
My spine instantly straightens, and every other thought is thrown out of my mind, immediately being replaced with the same hopefulness I've had for years. It's like waiting on the edge for something, constantly holding your breath for that moment - but always running our of air because nothing good ever happens.
That's my relationship with the man on the phone. The man I call-
"Father..." The shock is evident in my voice. He never calls. He'd rather send Lucian or the headmaster to communicate with me. It's not a typical father-son relationship, but it's all I've known my whole life - so maybe it's normal?
"I heard that you got the highest points in the Full Moon Games and saved the human."
"Yes, I did." A smile breaks through my tense form. Father never acknowledges my wins, never cared enough to. His words right now are crumbs, but I'd take what I get. "And how're you, Father? Mr. Jermaine says you've been busy. You're getting old, you shouldn't be working as hard."
"Unfortunately, that's a burden I have to bear; the work of an Alpha is one that never ends. I'd hate to leave anything unfinished when I pass the throne to you. We all have our roles to play to ensure that our race thrives." He lectures, and I can't help the grin that crawls up my face - there's always an excuse to why he overworks himself.
"Sure, sure. But when I'm King, a mandatory vacation would be set-in-stone for all Alphas."
He surprises me with a tired laugh; it's not as boisterous as I've heard it used to be, but it's the first genuine one I've witnessed in a long while.
"You have it all figured out, don't you?"
"Yes, you just need to live long enough to witness it." My amusement slowly dies out, and my voice grows strained when the next words leave my lips, "How is...mum?"
As expected, Father is instantly quiet and there's a stretch of heavy silence that exists between us for about a minute before he lets out an exhausted sigh that kills something inside me.
"As always."
"No improvement? I thought..." A noose is tightened around my throat now, making every word painful, every breath impossible. "I thought the priest said...she's getting better. That we just need time..."
"She is not." Is all he says, and there's that tense silence again. A thousand fears mount up deep within me, tearing out every ounce of hope I've tried to keep alive for her. "How is Kamila?"
That catches me off-guard.
"I... She's fine." Lies.
"Have you done it?"
My brows furrow. "Done...what?"
"Artemis!" Father suddenly growls out, a different kind of tension seizing his voice. "You promised that you'd mark Kamila by now."
Fuck. '
That.
My fingers run across my hair, and there's that reminder of the inevitable. Marking Kamila. High on the list of reasons I hate having a mate is the fact that I have to claim her, both in body and soul. And there's no subtle way of saying that every single time I've tried to mark Kam, my wolf withdraws and I'm immediately filled with disgust. Absolute repulsion.
However, none of that seems to matter to my Father. My mate bond with Kamila is of absolute importance to him, and considering that he never cares about anything else in my life, I'm almost tempted to believe that there's more to it - a greater reason as to why my Father constantly prods and shoves our relationship down my throat.
Recently, his obsession has been his demand for me to mark her. He brings it up at every chance he gets, and at this point, it feels like a punishment.
"I said I would...but I just...can't. I don't know how to explain this, but it feels impossible, Father."
"That's nonsense. You'd prefer being a shameful philanderer than to settle and commit to your mate. Or do you think word doesn't get back to me on just how disgraceful you are?" He's angry now, razor-sharp words cutting deep within me. "You are supposed to represent the Sinclair bloodline with dignity, but all you do is give me reasons to believe that I've failed as a father. This time, you have one simple task to do, and that's to mark Kamila - yet you've chosen to also be a disappointment in that as well."
My blood runs cold, and it takes everything within me not to smash my cell phone under the force of my now tightened fingers. I grit my teeth, trying to replace the deep wound being torn open within me with anger.
Yes, anger is always better. Anger gives no reason to ever feel vulnerable or weak, or...hurt.
"You call yourself a father?" I let out a cold, unremorseful chuckle. "You might be a good Alpha King, but you are no father. You only care when it concerns your political gains and power. Isn't that why you're hellbent on merging humans with our kind? Because you just want more control."
He lets out a low growl. "Don't speak foolishly on things you don't understand, Artemis. In the end, you're just a boy, and it's a shame that you'd one day be King. Perhaps if you were half a dignified man, you'd realize that there's more to life than just filling every hole you meet."
Just to spite him, I grit out. "Maybe being disappointing to each other is the one thing we have in common. Maybe I should take the prize as the shittiest Sinclair by rejecting Kamila and rewarding myself with an orgy. What do you say, Father?"
"You will not reject Kamila!"
I laugh now. "That sounds a lot like a challenge."
"Artemis!" His voice almost rips out my eardrums. "You're trifling with fragile matters. Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything that we'd all regret. I'm...begging you."
There's something about the slight desperation in his voice that piques my curiosity.
"Now, you know me, Father, I'm just full of so much disgrace and shame; it's impossible for me to do as I'm told. But I might consider my actions carefully if you give me a reason, or at least an answer as to why you fear my separation with Kamila so much. Why are you so keen on running our relationship like another one of your pet projects?" Like we're puppets on a stage, starring in a show we're clueless to.
Of course, my Father goes quiet. He always chooses the best times not to speak. His heavy breathing is all I get.
"This is your last warning, Artemis. Mark your mate before the month is over, or I'd be forced to deal with this directly."
The line cuts.
My fingers squeeze hard on the phone still held against my ear, and my previous irritation with this whole mess resurfaces. All I want is to slam my fist into something. But all I can do is stare on into the cold night, hating every moment of that call. Almost hating the man behind it too.
Eventually, I return to my dorm room and I'm met with the sight of Kamila lying carelessly on the floor, by the entrance to my bedroom. She must have cried herself to sleep, and I can't help carrying her up and putting her down on my bed.
I stare at her gentle sleeping form, red hair tousled out of their usual perfection, and no venom because those striking eyes are closed. I try to feel something, anything at all, but...nothing. I sigh now, ready to leave.
"Artemis...?" Her soft voice holds me back, and I look back at Kamila. She has a sleepy smile on her lips. "You're back."
"Yeah, I am."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean most things I said."
I force a small smile. "It's fine, I said things too. I'm sorry."
I start to move again, but she tugs me back by the hem of my shirt, eyes pleading up to me.
"Stay with me."
For a moment, I hesitate, glancing down on the spot she held on - then I gently pry her fingers off.
"No, I want you to have the bed."