Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 19 **

Alice

My lungs stopped functioning the moment my mate turned around. Magic is oozing around him—I suspect he has taken some substance to veil his true identity from the others.

But I specialize in potions and could see through this type of magic from a mile away. Besides, there is no escaping from the mate-bond once you face your special someone.

I wet my lips while my mate absorbs me from his imposing height. He is tall, and I'm suddenly speechless. He is handsome. His warm skin tone stands out against the pale color of most people this time of the year, me included. I'm embarrassingly porcelain, while my mate is a rich bronze with eyes so deep I could drown in them.

He isn't entirely flawless, though. His nose is slightly crooked, and his face lacks any sign of human emotions, but in my opinion, it gives him character.

This man is a mystery, and I wish to solve it—if only I weren't so nervous around him!

When I don't utter a word, my mate's lips curve on the left side of his face. I can't read his expression. If I were to make a guess, I would describe him as a conflicted man. It seems like he wants to smile but won't allow himself to do it and instead keeps himself guarded.

"Can't you talk?"

My lips part in confusion. This man heard me when I asked him to wait. Why is he asking if I know how to talk? I study his face, and when I notice the humor in his eyes, I smile.

"Interesting first words to say to your mate."

His eyes roam my face with newfound concern. I get the sense he isn't sure what to make of me. The surrounding aura is intense, and strangely enough, I get the feeling he both wants to stay and leave me in the dust at the same time.

His chest heaves, and his voice comes out stormy and cold. "I already have a mate. You must have imagined the mate-bond spark because I feel nothing for you, little witch."

My heart shatters at hearing those words, yet I plead with his gaze. Shockingly, the emotions found inside his honeycomb eyes are warmer and filled with something resembling wonder.

It's then something comes over me. I act on pure instinct, taking my mate's much larger hand in mine. "Let's skip the talk and come and dance with me instead!"

He freezes at our joined hands and stares at me as if my hand touching him burns his skin, yet he doesn't protest when I drag him to the dancefloor.

How fun!

My mate isn't exactly small and could fight me off and flee the scene. Instead, he silently follows me like an oversized puppy being dragged forward by its owner—could this mean he doesn't hate me?

"I've never been good at talking!" I'm nervous, and when that emotion overwhelms me, I ramble and oink like a pig. Shit. My mate must think I'm a lunatic. "But people say actions speak louder than words, so let's dance it out!"

I turn around and blush when I notice my mate squinting down at me. He definitely must think I'm crazy. I can read it on his irritable face and the thin line of his lips.

"You're a weird one."

I laugh. "Yes, I get that a lot, but I love this song, and birthday parties are about having fun, right? So what is the harm in dancing?"

My mate silently peers down at me, curling his lip into something seemingly more like a smirk than a smile. Still, it gives me butterflies.

I can already imagine how many hormonal teenagers must have a crush on this guy. He is sexy in a tropical island type of way, someone you would automatically assume is a surfer. And don't get me started on the way he absorbs me—a bit scrutinizing and curious—it's a hell of a lot distracting.

And those sun-kissed shoulders along with his blonde curls?

Mamma Mia—someone slaps me before I jump this man!

"Do you usually dance when you like the song?"

I'm almost offended by his question and inhale for air, gasping before I answer him. "And what is wrong with that, huh?"

My answer seems to crack his bubble, and a genuine smile stirs his usually stony expression. It warms his features and causes my heart to squeeze—my mate is cute.

"Nothing at all." He twirls me around to the music, not bothered that we are the only ones dancing. "Has Patricia mentioned my name already?"

"No... I have no clue what you're named."

Again, I witness his lips briefly curl. "My name is William, and there is no need for introductions—your name must be Phoebe Buffay."

"No, my name is Alice, but wow! That's an enormous compliment! I love Friends, and I think Phoebe is the funniest character ever!" I laugh while we dance, taken by William's reference. "And I've had no one say I'm like Phoebe before! I usually get called Luna Lovegood."

William only stares at me for what seems like an eternity before appearing to relax even more around me. His eyes somehow grow warmer, and his grip around my hands turns more secure.

"Both characters are great. I'm a Harry Potter fan too."

I blink up at the lamps above us, surprised by William sharing his opinion. For some reason, I have this feeling my mate isn't a man of many words and that anything he shares should be considered a special moment.

"I think so too," I smile. "But people usually consider I'm weird, and it's rare for them to mean things as a compliment when they describe me. In the past, I wasn't that tough and didn't think being called Luna Lovegood was a good thing."

William narrows his eyes. "You look like you're young, but you speak as if you might be older—may I know your age?"

Smiling mysteriously, I shrug. "I guess I'm thirty or something? I don't keep count of the years anymore."

There is a snort. "No way you're that old."

I laugh. "Thirty isn't old, but you're right—I appear younger because I'm put under a curse. I won't age."

He lifts an eyebrow. Why does he have to look so sexy all the time? "And how do you break this curse?"

"Ah," I sigh. "I thought I had to meet my mate, but that didn't change a single thing—I'm still tiny."

William laughs. It's silent and breathy. "I don't think aging will miraculously make you taller, I'm afraid."

"Really?" I sigh even deeper. "That sucks. I hate being this short!"

"Why?"

"Because I can't even buy energy drinks without the cashier asking me for my legitimation."

The way William gazes at me tells me he considers me an oddball, but he also seems charmed. His cheeks are slightly tinted pink, and his smile isn't secretive anymore. I judge I'm already falling for him.

"If the curse somehow broke, I guess I wouldn't mind having an older mate..." William mumbles.

I laugh and joke with him. "Then what are we waiting for—let's get to finishing the mating ritual!"

"I can't do that..."

My skin heats to a million degrees. "Oh, I understand that—I was only joking!"

William studies me in silence for a long moment. His eyes are so longing it's hard not to hug him. I don't understand the reason behind the loneliness in his gaze, but I wish to change it—thaw his heart from the ice prison surrounding it. No person should look like they are in constant agonies, like William.

"I like you, Alice," William brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, but although he complimented me, my heart is cracking. He is using a farewell tone. "You seem like a fun person to talk and hang out with, but I'm mated to someone else, and things would never work between us. I shouldn't waste more of your time by dancing."

"No, William... Please, don't say it." I swallow thickly because I already realize where this conversation is leading, and I can't handle it.

Sadness fills his voice. "I have to. It might be hard for you to understand, but trust me, my intentions aren't to hurt you, Alice. This rejection will be better for you, and I suggest you reject me too."

"No one is forcing you to reject me," I whisper and lift my chin, meeting his eyes. "And we don't even know each other yet! How can you say we won't work when we haven't spent any time around each other! You haven't given me a chance!"

Conflict seems to wreck William. His eyebrows knit together as if every word inside his head is already hurting him. My mind races as I stare at him, but I can't conjure up a single word to convince him not to reject me as his mate.

"I belong to someone else, Alice," William is holding my gaze, peering down at me while not letting go of my hands. "Thank you for making me laugh tonight, but don't approach me again. It's for the best."

So many emotions swim through my head. I don't know what to say or even think. William and I just met, yet we are already saying farewell.

"Is it because of her? Are you under compulsion?" I ask. "Are you somehow controlled by the vampire who marked you? Because if that is the case, then you need to tell me! We can work it out, William, please—if you loved her, the mate-bond wouldn't be so strong between us!"

Guilt is flashing in his beautiful eyes, yet his lips move to speak the sentence I feared from the moment I laid eyes on him. My heart always knew someone like him wouldn't accept someone like me, yet I dared to hope that maybe he would prove me wrong.

"I, William, reject you, Alice, as my mate."

William didn't prove me wrong.