Mated to My Intended's Enemy novel Chapter 226

Chapter 226: Chapter 226 The Pain of Silence

Freya’s POV

The drive home passed in a blur of theories and growing dread. By the time I pulled into our driveway, the afternoon sun was already beginning its descent.

I found him in his study, hunched over reports at his desk. The moment I entered, his head snapped up, nostrils flaring slightly as he caught my scent. Something primal and possessive flashed in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

"You’re home early," he said, his tone carefully neutral.

I closed the door behind me, leaning against it. "What’s happening to you?"

His expression didn’t change, but I caught the subtle tensing of his shoulders. "What do you mean?"

"Don’t." I took a step forward. "Something’s wrong. I can feel it."

Silvano stood slowly, placing his palms flat on the desk. "You should be at work. The system launch—"

"I postponed it." Another step closer. "The system detected an anomaly. A disturbance in the northern quadrant, centered right where you’ve been spending most of your time."

A flash of alarm crossed his features before he could hide it. "Your system is picking up territorial disputes. Nothing more."

"It’s picking up a bonding interference pattern," I countered. "Something is targeting pack connections. Or maybe..." I hesitated, watching him carefully. "One specific connection."

His jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching with tension. "Freya, I don’t have time for this. The northern alliance meeting—"

"Look at me," I demanded, moving around his desk until only inches separated us. "Really look at me, Silvano."

When he finally met my gaze, the pain in his eyes stole my breath. This close, I could see faint black lines beneath the collar of his shirt—lines that shouldn’t be there.

"What is it?" I whispered, reaching toward him.

He caught my wrist before I could touch him, his grip firm but careful. "Don’t."

The single word carried such raw warning that Selene whined in response. But something else happened too—the moment his skin touched mine, those black lines beneath his collar seemed to pulse, and he couldn’t quite hide his grimace of pain.

Understanding dawned with horrifying clarity. "It hurts you to touch me."

His silence was confirmation enough.

"How long?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

Silvano released my wrist, putting distance between us again. "It doesn’t matter."

"How. Long?" I repeated, anger beginning to replace shock.

He turned away, staring out the window at our territory. "Eight months."

The timeline struck me like a physical blow. Eight months—precisely when he’d begun pulling away from me. When our bond had started to weaken. When he’d stopped sharing our bed, stopped touching me, stopped being my mate in any meaningful way.

"And you didn’t tell me?" The hurt in my voice was unmistakable. "You let me think you just... stopped wanting me? That you’d found someone else? That everything between us was falling apart because of *me*?"

He spun to face me, eyes flashing Alpha red. "I was protecting you!"

"By breaking my heart?" I shot back.

"By keeping you alive!" he roared, the force of his Alpha voice making the windows vibrate.

"She already knows."

I sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Knows what, exactly? Because I’m still in the dark here, Silvano."

He remained silent, shoulders rigid with tension.

"Fine," I said after a moment. "Keep your secrets. But know this—whatever is happening to you, whatever you’re hiding, I figured it out on my own today. And I will find a way to fix it, with or without your help."

Finally, he turned to face me, moonlight casting half his face in shadow. "Some things can’t be fixed, Freya. Some choices have already been made."

"By you. Without me." I stood, moving to my side of the bed. "That’s the problem, isn’t it? You never saw me as an equal partner in this relationship. I’ve always been something to protect, to manage, to keep in the dark when things get difficult."

Pain flashed across his features. "That’s not true."

"Isn’t it? Then tell me what’s happening. Tell me why it hurts you to touch me. Tell me why you’ve been pushing me away for eight months while letting me think I’d done something wrong."

His hands clenched at his sides, conflict evident in every line of his body. For a moment—one breathtaking moment—I thought he might finally break, might finally trust me with whatever burden he was carrying.

Instead, he said, "I need to check the perimeter before bed. Security protocols."

As he walked past me toward the door, I caught his arm.

"This isn’t over," I said quietly.

His eyes met mine, filled with an agonized longing that matched my own. "I know."