Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 25 **

Alice

I stare at the floor with tears gathering in the corner of my eyes. My heart is an open wound, bleeding as I walk past groups of people at Dior's birthday party. I meet eyes with no one, too caught in my inner pain to see further than my nose.

A zombie snake, one of those shadow creatures, came in through the window minutes ago. I should have helped the Winterbite pack take it down, but I didn't because my mind was elsewhere.

Even now, I can't focus.

William rejected me, and the loss I'm experiencing right now is truly unbearable. I have to make it outside. My steps are shaky, forcing me to lean against the wall with my palm pressing against it as I try to breathe. I'm so dizzy, but some fresh air would help.

I keep walking with a headache ringing in my ears. The world is suddenly spinning so fast, and while I can see faces and recognize people at this party, their voices are quiet, as if they are too far away.

With sheer force, I press on.

I'm in my bubble, and a flash of images of William's face makes it harder to breathe. I don't want to think about him, but that goddamn smile is impossible to forget!

My emotions make my stomach tie in a knot, and a wave of nausea hits me like an ocean wave.

Is this what dying feels like because I can't breathe. I can't think. I can't function. The mate-bond is like an infection, and after William cut his bridges, my soul is screaming, so freaking lost without him.

"I need air..." I tell myself. "You can do it!"

By now, I'm forcing my legs forward, and I consider it a miracle that I make it outside to stand on the porch.

"I did it..."

My breaths are coming out in whimpers, and my eyelids are prickling with tears. In the distance, I can pick up on a wolf howling, crying out into the night. It reminds me of William, and I crumble to dust.

"No..." I press my palm against my mouth to silence the scream wanting out. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Stop howling!"

The noise continues, and I hiccup.

"How could William pick that vampire over me?" I ask no one in particular, pressing my back against the wall of the house to slide down to sit. My chest is contracting and turning too tight. "She doesn't even care about him. His skin reeks of her magic and..." My lips quiver. "It's not fair—we are mates picked by the moon goddess herself! We were meant to be..."

I stare up at the moon while blinking away tears, aware that some creep is looking at me. Call it a bone-deep instinct.

"I don't want anyone's company," my voice is teary. "Please leave me alone."

The stranger responds with a deep chuckle that makes my skin grow uncomfortably cold. The devil has arrived.

"You need a drink, something strong that will knock you unconscious."

I glare up at the older Dior, not surprised one bit that he is back in the wrong dimension. I'm too heartbroken to fear him, even if he carries this evil guy vibe.

"You're a bad influence," I mutter.

There is a huffed laugh before the man sits down next to me with one of his knees bent. He is dressed like a villain in dark, faded jeans and a black leather jacket. Yet somehow, he is still looking solid and graceful like an aristocrat, even with bad-boy clothes. I hate to admit it, but Dior is one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen.

"Here," Dior hands me a shot. "Drink it."

I take the tiny glass, smelling the clear liquid inside. It smells sweet and musky. "What is it?"

A telltale smirk plays over his lips. I can imagine women of all ages falling for his appearance. Patricia is super strong for having resisted this man, especially since they are mates.

"Don't ask me questions, Alice, and just be happy that somebody cares about you being in misery."

Suspicion is circling in my mind. I'm not falling for those eyelashes and the pretending to be a friend in the time of need. I might be happy-go-lucky and a bit weird, but I'm not naive.

"You could have poisoned it."

"It is possible," Dior admits. "You and I aren't exactly close in my dimension, but in this alternative one, I think we can become great friends."

"Don't get your hopes up too high. If I hate you in your dimension, chances are I won't like you in this one either," I mutter, then finish the drink in one go, coughing at the taste of cinnamon. "That's disgusting! What was that?"

"The less you know, the better," Dior laughs in amusement. "Don't worry, though. It wasn't dangerous or anything, only a lot stronger than what you're used to."

I cautiously eye him. "So, if you're back in our world, what are you doing here with me? Shouldn't you be busy chasing Patricia and find a way to get into her pants?"

"You're lucky I'm not easily insulted," Dior laughs, which certainly isn't the reaction I saw coming. His blue eyes land on mine before he rolls his head back toward the moon. "I know what losing your mate feels like and how it destroys you. I went through the same torture after Patricia died in my dimension. Somehow I knew she was meant to be mine." He looks at me again, seeming to read my face. "You need a friend, Alice."

I snort. "I can think about a million people that I would rather be with right now."

Dior chuckles, bringing another shot glass out from his inner chest pocket. He gives me an arrogant smirk before revealing a bottle that he stole from inside.

"Tadaa!"

I shake my head at him. "Are you stealing from yourself now?"

He pours himself a glass. "Borrowing."

"So you will return it?" Somehow I doubt that.

Dior's lips curl higher, and I observe him refill my glass. He gives me a challenging look, and I sigh before taking the drink. There are worse things than drinking with a demon, I suppose.

"Cheers." I lift my hand.

Dior does the same. "To a strange friendship!"

"We aren't friends."

"Not yet."

The alcohol is making me lightheaded, and I breathe a laugh, blaming the goddamn strength of the drink. I'm having fun, but only because drinks are involved.

"You're extremely confident."

"So I've been told."

I take the bottle from Dior, refilling my glass yet again. My pain is fading away, and everything is excellent, even if I know the torturous heartbreak will be back by tomorrow.

No matter how badly I want to, I can't run away from the mate-bond, and since I don't plan on giving up yet, I will have to withstand the hurricane blowing within me. Rejecting William is out of the question. I still have hope for our future.

I drink my shot, then lean forward, all shaky and slouchy, but so damn honest. "Being friends with me won't bring you any closer to Patricia. You're aware of that, right?"

"Oh, I'm well aware." Dior replies before he playfully winks at me. "Today is about improving your night, but tomorrow I will plot my plan to win Patricia over."

"Mmm." I put my glass down, swallowing to speak. "She likes the younger Dior, you know."

"Ah," Dior smiles with confidence that seems to ooze from his bronzed skin. "Let see for how long. I'm more sensible and charming and by far more powerful than the other Dior. I'm smarter and easier to talk with, too, probably because I'm older."

I lift my arm and pour my drink over his dark hair, and Dior blinks. "This is for bragging about yourself and not knowing when to stop."

We stare at each other for an eternity. And then, despite all odds, we both break out laughing like two loud, drunk fools of the night. Dior's teeth are glinting in the dark, and I can feel my lips retreating. I'm in good company, I realize.

"You're so mean!" Dior exclaims. "I didn't think the little weirdo had it in her to act like an asshole!"

"I'm innocent and sweet—I swear!"

Dior snorts. "Right."

I stay on the porch laughing and joking with Dior for what seems like an eternity before the alcohol fades and my eyes turn glazed. The pain is back full force, and I take a deep, shaking breath.

It does nothing to calm me.

My head hurts, and I need to keep my mind from spiraling down William-lane, so I ask a random question, hoping it will offer me relief. I have to know if my other self is with William. I bet she is married to him already. Yes, I need to stay positive—this is only a phase.

"Tell me about the other me in your dimension."

Dior seems to hesitate before speaking. His mood appears to grow as dark as the sky above us. "You wouldn't like her."

"Why not?"

His piercing eyes capture mine. "Because she pierced through William's heart with a knife, ending his life and destroying their mate-bond in cold blood."

I gasp and turn around in desperation to find dishonesty in Dior's eyes, but the man is already disappearing. He isn't here to stay, and he doesn't have to because the last thing I see is his sincerity.

It breaks me.

Dior's lips part upon seeing my expression. "I'm so sorry, Alice."

And with that, I'm left even more shattered and confused than moments before. Dior is gone, and my head is an utter mess. What am I supposed to do with the information I was given? I don't want to murder William—I'm not that type of person! Or am I?