Roman's Found Mate

POV: Maeve.

"Maeve, I've found my mate."

The words cut through the suffocating silence of our dimly lit bedroom. Roman stood near the door, his solemn voice hanging heavy in the air. The declaration felt like a physical blow. Every beat of my heart morphed into a sharp, agonizing stab against my ribs.

I stared at his handsome face. The grey eyes that usually held a quiet, functional tolerance for me were now icy and impenetrable.

"You found your mate?" I stammered. My voice barely scraped past my throat. I desperately clung to the fragile hope that he might laugh, shake his head, and take the words back.

He didn't.

He had been gone for days, leaving me pacing the halls. When he finally walked through the door earlier tonight, his jaw was tight. *We need to talk,* he had said.

Our marriage wasn't a fairy tale. It was born from a desperate, impulsive mistake. The Moonglen pack thrived in the shadows, coexisting with humans while hiding our true wolf nature. On the night of my coming of age, I got drunk and ranted to Roman how frustrated I was that I couldn't feel the mate bond between us. He was also intoxicated, and we found ourselves entangled in a passionate embrace. It was a drunken one-night stand that happened only months after he had taken on the role of Alpha.

The next morning, driven by unrequited love for the man who had just become Alpha, I begged him to take responsibility and marry me.

"But I'm not your mate," he had stated calmly, his brow furrowed as he pulled his clothes back on.

"It doesn't matter," I pleaded. "You don't have a mate. It's been five years since you came of age. This is your sixth year."

I believed love could override destiny. My parents weren't fated mates, but they loved each other so much that when my dad died, my heartbroken mom followed him to the grave. I thought I could build that with Roman.

For six months, I played the fool. Roman functioned as my husband and the pack's Alpha with robotic precision. We shared a bed, we attended pack meetings, and I wore the Luna title. I settled for that hollow routine, quietly hoping time would thaw the ice around his heart.

But tonight, the illusion shattered. Standing in our bedroom, Roman had a radiant, unfamiliar spark in his eyes. A genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It was a look that had never, ever been meant for me.

"She was badly injured when we found her," Roman continued, a chaotic mix of excitement and guilt bleeding into his tone. "She's at the pack hospital right now. I need to get back to her."

He didn't wait for my blessing. He didn't offer comfort. I stood frozen, watching his broad back as he walked out the door. The devastating reality set in, crushing the breath from my lungs. He wasn't coming home.

For three gloomy days, the sun might as well have vanished. I lay trapped in bed, paralyzed by the terrifying uncertainty of our future. What would happen to Roman and me?

My body betrayed me. I felt sick, dizzy, and drowsy. Trays of uneaten food piled up. I lacked the motivation to drag myself out of the room. Instead, I wrapped the heavy silk sheets around my trembling body, burying my face in the pillows to breathe in the fading remnants of his signature scent—a sharp blend of dark musk and crisp ice. I clung to that smell. It was the only piece of my husband I had left.

The quiet misery of my isolation finally broke on the afternoon of the third day. Three raspy knocks echoed against the heavy oak door.

"Luna?"

I didn't answer right away, too drained to speak.

"Good morning, Luna. The chores have all been completed," called Hilda, a loyal house servant, her voice muffled through the wood. "We got a call from the Alpha's office. He left behind a blue file containing the essential land deeds. He sent Garth to the house to have it delivered."

A blue file. Land deeds. Roman was at his corporate office. He had left the hospital to handle human business.

My heart gave a pathetic, desperate flutter.

"Wait," I croaked out, clearing the roughness from my throat. I pushed the heavy blankets off my legs. "I'll go myself. Tell Garth to wait by the car. He'll drive me to the office."

"Yes, Luna," Hilda replied, her footsteps retreating down the hall.

Mustering my shattered strength, I dragged myself to the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my pale face, staring at the dark circles under my eyes. I couldn't stay in this bed forever. I needed to see his face. I needed to look into his eyes and figure out what he was thinking. I had to know if there was even a fraction of space left for me in his rapidly changing life.

I dressed quickly, pulling on a sleek dress that projected the authority of a Luna, even if I felt like a crumbling mess underneath. I snatched the heavy blue file from his study desk, feeling the crushing weight of my responsibilities pressing down on my shoulders. It was a tangible reminder of the life we had built, however fragile it was.

I rushed downstairs, my heels clicking sharply against the marble floors. Several servants bowed their heads and offered polite greetings as I passed, but I barely acknowledged them, my mind racing with a million different scenarios.

Garth stood waiting by the gleaming black SUV, holding the rear door open as I approached.

"Where to, Luna?" Garth asked, his voice respectful as I slid into the leather seat.

"The company," I replied, my voice tight.

He shut the door, cutting off the outside world, and climbed into the driver's seat. The engine roared to life.

The drive from the pack estate to the human city center was short, but today, it stretched into an agonizing eternity. I stared out the tinted window, watching the blur of trees turn into concrete and glass. My stomach churned with anxiety. I gripped the blue file so hard my knuckles turned white. Every mile brought me closer to the man who had destroyed my world three days ago.

I wondered if he would be angry, or if he would look at me with that same cold distance.

My heart pounded against my ribs as Garth parked at the curb. I didn't wait for him to open my door. I pushed it open myself and stepped out onto the pavement.

I stood there for a brief moment, craning my neck to look up. The magnificent, imposing corporate building towered over the city street, an empire of steel and dark glass. It was a perfect reflection of Roman himself—formidable, powerful, and unreachable.

Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I clutched the land deeds and walked through the heavy revolving doors. I was desperate to confront him, to understand my place in his life, even if stepping into his domain destroyed my remaining hopes.