Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 43 **

Patricia

Something is strange with Dior this morning. I can't put my finger on what is wrong with him, but those usual butterflies aren't there in my stomach when our gazes meet across the table. The mate-bond is strong and stirring, zapping between us like chemical electricity, but it's like my heart isn't entirely sold by Dior this morning.

I'm aware this isn't good. My emotions worry me. An hour ago, I was ready to consider completing the mating ritual with Dior, and now I'm glad I didn't let him anywhere close to my neck.

Does this mean my feelings for him aren't strong as I first thought since I'm already changing my mind about things? Nothing is making sense right now. I had sex with Dior this morning—how can my flutters be gone and over with already? Oh, god, I can only pray I'm not one of those girls who thinks the grass is greener on the other side!

I bite into the pancake piece on my fork, eyeing Dior while he scrolls through his message on his phone. He is sitting across the table without a care in the world, humming to himself.

Elijah is sitting with us, too, reading the newspaper with a judging expression as his eyes skim the text. The old vampire still hasn't gotten around to using a phone. I wonder how he communicates with Wesley when he is at school?

I reach for the whipped cream. "Has anyone seen Alice this morning?"

Dior glances at me from behind his phone, and a shudder travels up my spine when I spot what looks like anxiety written over his features. He is acting like an oddball. Minutes ago, we were wrapped in each other's arms, kissing and making love, and now he can barely face me.

Have I missed something?

Dior's jaw ticks as he studies me. I think a hint of guilt swamps his face momentarily—does he regret what we did in the shower?

And again, why aren't I experiencing any remotely romantic emotions as I gaze at him? Desire doesn't flood me, neither does that toe-curling need of having him close.

"Lady Alice is probably still sleeping," Elijah says when Dior doesn't answer the question. He slurps on his coffee without releasing his attention from the newspaper. "I knocked on her door multiple times, and there wasn't an answer. I could, however, feel her presence on the other side, so she must be sleeping."

Dior relaxes his broad shoulders, making the chair creak underneath his weight as he slumps in his seat. "Yeah, Alice isn't exactly a morning person. I wouldn't worry."

I lift an eyebrow, parting my lips in surprise. "Since when do you know Alice enough to know she isn't a morning person?"

Dior freezes. His eyes widen to the size of saucers, causing me to frown, and the atmosphere immediately turns awkward. Even Elijah glances between us with newfound curiosity.

"Yes, that's a rather interesting observation, Dior," Elijah points out, setting down his newspaper. A shadow of a smile moves over his smooth and elegant face. "I don't remember you ever exchanging any friendly words with the young witch, or am I mistaken?"

Dior appears to have broken out into a cold sweat, brought forth by stress and inner anxiety. His lips open, and I glare at him like a pissed-off cat, not because he has done something terrible, but because I know he is keeping secrets.

"We exchanged a few words yesterday. Alice yawned before deciding to hit the sack and told me she isn't an early bird," Dior shrugs, which seems to put Elijah at ease. The large man then mutters at me. "Why are you acting like a jealous girlfriend all of a sudden?"

I gasp, then speak in a high-pitched tone. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah," Dior meets my eyes straight on, nonchalant and entirely calm, like a mountain facing the wind. "Does it suddenly bother you I talk with other girls?" his lips twitch to let out a snort. "Which would be rich since I don't remember us finishing the mating ritual in the first place. I don't belong to you, and it might be better that way."

Wow, Dior is being rude! Is this the same gentle and emotional guy I had sex with this morning? Because while that guy was intimidating and intense, he still treated me like a delicate flower. Meanwhile, this Dior sitting right here is downright obnoxious.

Laughter escapes me. "Unbelievable—I let my guard down for one second, and you're already back to being an asshole!"

Dior challenges me by standing up from his seat. He is tall and intimidating, and this time, part of me fears him. This morning, I found him protecting and sweet, but now I'm suddenly hit with how much larger he is than me and how easily he could hurt me.

"I'm not an asshole!" Dior almost shouts with his eyes glaring daggers down into my face. His muscles are bulging, and his jaw clenched with words waiting to be thrown at me. "You're acting super jealous this morning, and I don't like it!"

"I'm not jealous—you're just being an insensitive, fucking asshole right now! How come you were so sweet earlier, and now you're being a vicious viper, only looking to create drama? And again, I'm not jealous—you can talk or be with any woman you want, and I still won't care!"

"Are you sure about that?" Dior is cruelly smirking at me, with his eyes seeming to grow darker by the second. "Because I wouldn't mind getting my hands on some good fucking sex after this disaster of a morning!"

I snap, feeling hurt and betrayed. "If you aren't happy with our sex, then please—fuck Riley instead!"

"Maybe I will!"

I'm shedding tears. "Good!"

Dior throws up his hands. "Excellent!"

Dior growls at me, causing Elijah to stand up and regard his alpha with a solemn expression. His lips are pressed into a tight line, and I watch him walk over to Dior.

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" Elijah asks. "You're not treating lady Patricia with much respect this morning—does this have anything to do with those shadows dancing around your feet? Are your new powers wearing you out?"

"What shadows?" I demand, but Dior only narrows those piercingly blue eyes at me and turns around, ready to leave.

"You might be right, Elijah. I'm rather worn-out." Dior walks forward without as much as glancing at me. "Thanks for having us over, Patricia, but we will now take our leave. There are more important things to do than guard the shitty omega who abandoned me in the first place."

The tone in his voice cuts through me like a knife. To think I let myself be fooled by this man. Dior will never change! I feared he would revert to his old self, but I didn't expect it to happen after sex. Turns out, giving him what he wanted—sex—was the only thing needed to see him give up on treating me nicely!

I snarl at my old alpha, determined not to let myself be pushed around by the big man. "What the hell is the matter with you?!"

"Nothing." Dior's eyes are colder than ice, and his smirk hurts like hell to absorb—the sweet guy from earlier this morning is gone. Left instead is a bastard who might look like a delicious forbidden apple ready for the taking, but his personality is shit. "I just realized I have no reason to play the nice guy with you—you're not worth the trouble, Patricia. There are women out there who are in way better shape, who won't get jealous when I talk with their friends."

My heart explodes with a pang of hurt. Even my eyes sting with sharp, sudden tears—insulting my appearance isn't playing fair. I know I'm not Dior's usual type. The guy was dating Riley before me, and I'm not an upgrade. Riley looks like a supermodel with legs for days, a person fitting for a jock like Dior. Meanwhile, I'm short and voluptuous.

"That was a low blow..." I mumble, avoiding Dior's eyes—I refuse to let him realize he made me cry.

"It was." Dior agrees without flinching. "But it was the truth."

I swallow thickly and listen as Dior makes it to the door. Elijah silently follows his alpha, too shocked by our fight to say anything. His eyes are vast, and when I glance his way, he mouths, "sorry," with an apologetic smile gracing his lips.

"What a waste of time coming here..." Dior mutters as he hangs up the shoehorn on the wall. "Instead of hanging out with the rogue, we should get ready for the next full moon. My fellow pack members need to lock me up in the cellar."

Elijah hums a reply, not very interested.

I move to lean against the wall. My heart is shattering into pieces. It goes faster this time because Dior has broken it before. We aren't cut out to become a couple. I don't long to be with someone who makes me feel like I'm worthless.

"Elijah, hurry—we need to grab a cab!"

Elijah is the only one turning around in the doorway. His expression is gentle and reflective. "Take care of yourself, Patricia," he hesitates, eyeing his alpha before wetting his lips with a kind thoughtfulness reflecting in his glowing eyes. "Dior isn't being himself right now. He loves you deeply, and I don't know what has gotten into him."

I force a brief smile, and Elijah gives me a nod of courtesy before hurrying after Dior, who is already crossing the street. My hands reach for the door, and after I've closed it, I sink to the ground with my tears flooding my entire face. If this is love, then it hurts like hell.