Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 96 **

Maya

Fifteen Years Later

"Happy birthday!" Bianca is holding up her glass. "The big thirty-three—only seven years until forty and your mid-life crisis!"

"Not so loud!" I grit my teeth, hissing at my friend. There is lemon juice stuck on my teeth; I can taste it. "Every single soul inside this restaurant doesn't have to know my age!"

Jenna and Felicia lift their cocktail glasses, smiling at me with warmth and love radiant on their faces.

"You still have a young soul," Jenna consoles me. "And you're the youngest successful attorney that I know. Hurrah for your success in the business!"

All my lovely friends clink their glasses, and with a bubble of joy lifting from my chest, I lift mine as well, glad everyone who matters in life is free this weekend.

My birthdays aren't an occasion safe to celebrate alone, as I go hard on the bottle. Aging reminds me of a traitor who never appeared after ten years. I bet the fucker is younger than me now. But who cares? I will probably never see him again.

"Well, some days, I certainly don't feel young since my sore back kills me every time I try to get up from bed. But tonight, I'm buzzing with renewed energy—thank you all for coming today!"

"Who would miss your big day?" Felicia asks, winking at me. "Of course, all of us made it, and since I never get to visit Stockholm, you should be happy that I'm here for your sake!"

Bianca rolls her eyes. "Here we go, the speech about how Felicia rarely gets to leave the house because of her kids."

Felicia glares at Bianca while I'm laughing at their bickering. Jenna is bouncing on her chair, too—everything is as it should be. These people are my friends, but I see them as family.

My actual family are people I no longer speak with often—they are busy leading a pack while I'm in the capital, working hard to become the top attorney in the country.

I've cut magic from my life, and I'm proud to say all of my friends are humans—who need werewolves, vampires, and stupid fairies in their life—definitely not me!

After some drinks, I rise from our table. "I have to visit the bathroom."

Bianca giggles. "Once you give in to the pressure, it becomes harder to keep it inside."

I send her a glare. "Not another word."

Bianca shrugs. "What? It's true!"

Felicia sighs. "Don't listen to her, and oh, on your way back, could you get me another cider? Pear, if possible."

I smile at my friend. "Sure."

"Could you also pick up a guy's number and go out with someone decent, like the man standing by the bar?" Bianca winks at me.

"Ha-ha..." I fake a big smile. "Hilarious."

The man standing by the bar desk has been ogling us for hours, and since I'm the only one who is single, my friends want me to approach him. But I can't deal with dating right now.

Two years ago, I gave up waiting for Finn, but other men can't make me reach orgasm. I'm not kidding. Chemistry is never there, and when it is, the man turns out to be a total dick once I get to know him.

I'm cursed.

"Anyway," I turn on my heel. "I will be right back!"

I disappear into the bathroom, and some minutes later, I'm washing my hands in absolute solitude. Someone is speaking into the microphone, so I'm guessing no one dares to visit the bathroom to miss their speech.

I study my reflection with a heavy heart, loathing the sign of wrinkles underneath my eyes. Hoping for Finn to come for me is useless, yet I can't help my mind from thinking about him sometimes. A lot of times, actually.

Finn. I don't remember what he looks like, but my heart squeezes whenever I think of his name, and if I need to get off in the shower, then the faint memory I have of his toned body sends me off the edge immediately.

"He isn't worth the trouble..." I whisper at myself and let my white hair fall as I remove my hairpins. With my eyes kept on my reflection, I shake my head, letting my waves fall over my shoulders.

I have filled out over the years, and I wear my curves with pride. My lips curl into a smile, and I turn off the water, ready to tackle the men waiting for me outside. Tonight, I will get laid.

"Ouch!"

Amused, I turn around to lift an eyebrow at one of the bathroom stalls from where the deep voice had come from—it sounded like a man.

"Hey, Peeping Tom, you're not doing an outstanding job spying on your victims if you're going to make sounds. Keep it down, will you?"

There is a chuckle, one that sends a shudder down my spine. "Peeping Tom? Who is that?"

No.

It's impossible.

The door opens, and a man, extraordinarily charming with skin a rich tone of russet and blue-green eyes the color of the sea, steps out from the bathroom stall.

He is wearing black cargo pants and a suit with rolled-up sleeves to show off his veiny arms packed with muscles. I can't help but openly stare at him like a fool.

The guy looks like a model that could pose for underwear. He has thick eyebrows and a stubble darker than his short, cropped white hair—Jesus Christ.

A jolt of recognition shocks me to the core. Years have passed, and yet the man is still as drop-dead-gorgeous.

Finn.

The fairy.

Oh. I crane my neck, and my jaw slacks to the floor—the very tall and smirking fairy. Finn seems to have grown a couple of inches. He is a bit older too, with a face more beautiful than I remember—he looks sculpted by an artist. Like a piece of art and way too gorgeous to be real, and his growing smirk gives me palpitations.

Fucking hell—my dry spell is over. Welcome to the Niagara Falls.