Chapter 16: The Worst and Only Loophole

Blair began to pace.

She wore a frantic, desperate path into the plush carpet of Daemus’s bedroom, her hands pulling nervously at the sleeves of the hockey jersey. She was too young to die. She hadn’t even done her first exam yet.

"Okay, think," Blair muttered to herself, her breathing growing shallow. "There has to be a logical, rational way out of this."

"I could just throw you out the window," Daemus suggested helpfully from his spot on the edge of the bed.

Blair stopped dead, whipping her head around to stare at him. "Excuse me?"

"The window," Daemus repeated, pointing a finger toward the glass panes across the room. "We’re only on the second floor. There’s a large row of ornamental hedges directly below us. You’re small. You might bounce."

"I am a human being, not a rubber ball!" Blair shrieked, her voice cracking.

Daemus frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Fair point. Okay, plan B. I’ll strap you to my back. I can shift into my half-form, break down the door, and just fight my way through the hallway."

Blair stared at him, utterly appalled by his complete lack of self-preservation. Before she could answer, a thunderous crash echoed through the room.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Blair yelped, jumping a foot in the air. The door shuddered on its hinges.

"Daemus! I know you’re still in there!" a shrill, furious female voice roared from the hallway. The sound of sharp claws scraping against the wood sent a shiver down Blair’s spine. "Open this door right now, or I’m tearing it off the hinges!"

Blair’s knees went weak. She clutched her chest, her heart hammering so hard and fast she felt lightheaded. For a brief second, she genuinely hoped she would just pass out. Being unconscious for her own murder seemed like the most comfortable option right now.

"She’s getting impatient," Daemus noted, entirely too calm.

Blair squeezed her eyes shut. She forced her panicked brain to work, digging through the recesses of her mind, past the physics equations and historical dates, straight into the trashy werewolf romance novels she used to read under her blanket with a candle.

"Wait," Blair gasped, her eyes snapping open. She looked at Daemus. "Is she your mate? Your... true mate?"

Daemus scoffed, a look of distaste crossing his handsome features. "Goddess, no. We just dated for a few months. My father thought it would be a good political match."

"Okay. Good," Blair breathed, her mind racing. "Then I have an idea. A terrible, reckless, completely insane idea."

Daemus raised an eyebrow, a smirk touching his lips. "My favorite kind. Let’s hear it, Bunny."

"We fake it," Blair blurted out, her hands waving frantically in the air. "The laws. The sacred pacts! A wolf can’t harm another wolf’s fated mate, right? It’s the ultimate taboo. If she thinks I belong to you—like, really belong to you—she can’t touch me without starting a war with your faction!"

"You want to pretend to be my fated mate," Daemus repeated slowly, tasting the words.

"Yes!" Blair urged, the door shuddering ominously behind her. "We just have to convince her! It’s the perfect loophole!"

Daemus stood up from the bed. He closed the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps, his massive frame towering over her.

He leaned down, his face inches from hers. The scent of rain and cedarwood wrapped around her, making her breath hitch.

"A wolf’s mate is a heavy burden," Daemus whispered, his voice dropping an octave. "It means you are mine. Completely. Are you sure you can handle that role, Bunny?"

Blair swallowed the dry lump in her throat, her face burning under his intense gaze.

"F-Fake mate," Blair stuttered, firmly pressing a finger against his chest to maintain some distance. "It’s a fake mate contract. With a strict expiration date. You graduate in a few months, right? We fake it until you leave the academy. Then, we put out a statement that the Moon Goddess made a mistake, or the bond broke, or whatever you guys do when you break up."

"A fake contract," Daemus mused, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He didn’t step back. In fact, he leaned in a fraction closer. "That expires at graduation. I accept your terms, Bunny."

BANG! BANG!

"Daemus!" the ex-girlfriend snarled from the hallway, her voice feral as she continued to pound against the sturdy wood.

"But," Daemus continued, his voice dropping to a low rumble, "if we are going to convince her, there is a first step. I have to mark you."

Blair swallowed hard. She had read enough werewolf romance novels to know exactly what that meant. Her face flushed a brilliant, bright red. She slowly tilted her head to the side, exposing the soft, vulnerable skin of her neck.

"O-okay," Blair stuttered nervously. She closed her eyes tightly, rationalizing her panic. Better the pain of a little bite than the pain of getting ripped apart limb from limb.

She kept her face turned firmly away from him, waiting for the sharp sting of his teeth.

Instead, she felt the warm touch of his fingers. Daemus gently held her chin. With a slow, deliberate pressure, he forced her face back until she had to look at him.

A smirk touched his lips. "How are we going to trick everyone into believing you are my mate when you can’t even look at me?"

Blair gulped. She slowly turned her eyes to meet his gaze. She really looked at him. The sharp angles of his jaw, the intense heat in his dark eyes—he was a very handsome beastman.

As she stared at him, caught in the gravitational pull of his presence, something strange happened. Her heart, which had been hammering in terror, seemed to beat slower, settling into a rhythmic thud. The frantic screaming of his ex-girlfriend outside the door completely drowned out, fading into nothingness.

Daemus slowly lowered his head to her neck. She felt his warm breath caressing her skin, sending a shiver cascading down her spine.

"I am going to mark you now," Daemus whispered.