Hesperia's POV:
Darkness surrounded me, as always. I was used to it by now. I had trained myself not to imagine what life might be like if I could actually see.
Any normal person would've been curious, would've wanted to sneak a peek after being told to stay blindfolded for most of their life. And once upon a time, I had been too.
But that curiosity had landed me in utter desolation.
I hadn't told the complete truth when Alastor asked me about my name. My parents hadn't died that early on. In fact… I remembered their faces.
Especially my father's—the way half of it had been burned away. That memory, the one time I had seen his face, was seared into my mind so deeply it made me afraid to ever remove my blindfold again.
They weren't particularly fond of me. No actually they hated me. I was supposed to be born an Alpha. A strong son. Not… as me.
Both my parents had warned me multiple times never to take off the blindfold. But on my fifth birthday, when my mother had been braiding my hair like she did on special occasions, I got curious. After so much deliberation and anxiety. I pushed the blindfold up, pretending it was an accident, and looked up—wanting to see my father's face.
What I saw… terrified me. So much so that I screamed. Cried. Trembled.
And they knew.
They beat me that day…..until my legs gave out and my face swelled. My arms had gone numb. I remembered every blow.
"Did you see your father? This is how you'll look if you dare take that thing off again. And if you do, we'll throw you out of the pack. Where the wraiths roam, and your blood will be sucked dry," my mother had shouted.
"Or better, we'll toss you into the sea. Let the Sirens cut you up and feast on you."
That fear gripped me for years. The very idea of being eaten alive haunted my dreams. Just being hit had hurt so much. How much more would it hurt to be torn apart?
So I didn't want to find out.
My mother had been a close confidant of the Moonbane Pack Alpha—Lucian's father. That's probably why Luna Lyra hated me. There had been rumors. Ones that said the Alpha had wanted my mother to be his Omega instead.
I never knew if the rumors were true. But I trained myself to be subservient after that, meek, obedient. I numbed myself, forced myself to be grateful for even the scraps I got.
I trained myself to believe I didn't deserve more.
And now… this was why I always kept my distance. One person—just one—being kind had made me greedy all over again.
My heart ached, because I didn't want to get my hopes up. I hated the disappointment that came after hoping. It always came.
Like the time after my parents' death. I was only six. I had thought maybe someone, anyone, would comfort me. But no one did. I wiped my own tears, fetched my own blanket, and fell asleep on the floor. Then woke up the next day and went about cleaning.
Or the time I smelled roast chicken and thought maybe, just maybe, I would get a warm meal. But when my parents left, there was no one else. I was served alone. On the floor. Like a dog. Not even the chicken I had smelled but leftover rice…cold…tasteless.
But I still ate it. I had been hungry for days after all.
Slowly I got used to the humiliation, numb to it.
But now, being hand-fed by someone like the Lycan King… being called perfect...
My heart felt like it was both breaking and being filled at the same time. Was such a contradiction even humanly possible?
I had never felt safe before. Ever.
And I couldn't believe I was saying this—but after everything… after all the hell I suffered just yesterday…
I didn't want to die.
And that made me greedy.
"You're awake?" a soft voice whispered into my ear.
I shuddered. My body was sore from everything we'd done.
When he shifted, his arms still around me, I flushed. I could feel the wetness inside me pooling out. It was embarrassing.
"D-don't move," I muttered, squeezing my legs together to keep the sheets from getting stained.
But as though sensing my panic, he chuckled. One hand slipped under my knees and the other supported my back as he lifted me easily.
"As much as I love the idea of having my seed filling you from the inside," he murmured, voice husky, "it would be better to get you cleaned up so you can sleep more comfortably."
I blushed. "Why do you speak so…"
"Shamelessly?" He laughed, and I clenched my fists, nodding.
"Well… not with everyone. You're my mate, after all."
My heart stuttered.
Mate. Right. I was his mate.
But then a frown pulled at my lips.
Aren't mates supposed to feel something? A spark? A bond?
At least, that's what I'd heard. That when you met your mate, something would click inside you. The bond would feel like gravity pulling you toward them.
I didn't feel any sudden click. Not like in the stories.
But… I felt warm. Wanted. Protected.
Wasn't that enough?
Still, I couldn't help asking eventually, even if the words stuck in my throat.
"Alastor," I whispered, "Do you… feel it? The mate bond?"
He went quiet.
The silence stretched so long that I regretted asking. My chest tightened. My throat ached.
"Yeah I do," he finally said. "Not sure if it's the mate bond but I feel something. Something that keeps whispering that you're mine in the back of my mind. Why do you ask?"
My eyes stung.
He added, more softly, "Hesperia ... .Many people believe that a mate bond is by fate and once you meet your mate you'll feel it. However, whether it's fate or not…I know you're mine. I'm choosing you. That, I can promise."
That was when I broke.
Tears leaked from beneath my blindfold. Silent, slow. But I didn't sob. I just leaned into his chest and let myself exist there. Held.
I had never been chosen before.
Not like this.