When You Were My Mate (Demetra and Emris) novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Emris.

$5 voustiers

My assistant dealt with the line, the ticket check, all the mundang irritations. Once my ticket is scanned, I leave the confines of my car and enter the auditorium. I paid for a front-row VIP seat. I don’t just want to see; I need to witness this first-hand.

The ticket promises a first-class live painting performance, followed by a meet and greet with the artist. Over the years, I’ve acquired every piece this artist has ever produced. Somehow, their work is the only thing that has ever spoken to the gutting loss I’ve carried since my mate vanished five years ago.

The artist uses flowers, faceless figures….usually a woman, sometimes a man to convey a depth of feeling I recognize in my own bones. I appreciate that.

After a few minutes, the entire auditorium plunges into darkness A recorded introduction plays, talking about artistic journey. Then music begins. Cello. Violin. The notes are a melody that could make someone weep. Not me, of course. But it’s undeniably powerful.

A curtain I hadn’t noticed before opens and a figure emerges into the deep gloom. It’s too dark for normal wolf eyes. But my Trybrid senses strain and I see a silhouette. And… white. A flash of white hair.

Suddenly, brilliant spotlight ignites, not on the figure, but on a massive, blank canvas beside her. The crowd murmurs. The light begins to captures a hand…it’s slender as she dips into a palette of color and applies the first stroke to the canvas.

A louder hum of realization passes through the audience when they realize she’s a woman.

Then, a scent assaults me!

It floods my lungs. My entire body seizes. I clap a hand over my face, fumbling desperately with the buttons of my shirt that’s suddenly strangling me. My heart convulses. What in the Hell? Why is Demetra’s sc

Metra begins to paint. The music swells around her and the crowd is mesmerized, whisp Metra!” They chant her name. Metra.

ow?

… “We love you!” “Go.

For twenty agonizing minutes, I am pinned to my seat. The music screams toward its peak. Lights at the very back of the auditorium begin to come on, one row after another, a march of illumination speeds toward the stage,

In drumbeats, a devastating spotlight crashes down onto the woman at the center of it all and reveals her face to us.

It’s Demetra-

I am on my feet as she bows to the thunderous applause, one had placed elegantly on her knee. The wicked shit in her dress rides high on her thigh, revealing a flash of skin I used to claimd possess.

My breath is gone. My life, in this moment, feels ended. A tight in whips through my chest as people claps furiously, screaming her name.

Miss Pride. The woman from the school. That was Demetra My Demetra.

Flowers, dozens of them from the highest point of the auditorit to fall in her hair I see her smile. And her eyes those eyes that once made me feel like I could be a better man, even when I knew, deep down, I was nothing but anger and roughness.

She is even more breath-taking now. Her cheeks have a lovelier urve, her lips lips I memorized from every sigh and mean they ever gave me. They are set in a gracious smile. Her hair everything about her is astomshing. I can’t bring unself to look away

She adjusts the mic and looks across the crowd. Then I see the sight tremble in her fingers. That’s when I realize she can’t see me yet, but she can smell me. Just as her scent is a brand on by soul, mine is a shock to her system Her eyes search.

1/4

O

<

18:30 Fri, Apr 3 TO.

Chapter 11

darting, until…

They find mine.

Demetra.

“Thank you….everyone, for coming to see me.” Her voice is a melody I haven’t heard in five years.

“Metra, we love you!”

1. 71%u

56 vouchers

Bouquets are hurled onto the stage. She places a hand over her heart, eyes tearing away from mine. I see her chest rise with immense breath as the crowd’s love washes over her. From the corner of her eye, a tear escapes. She is moved. By them.

“Thank you so much.” She says, waiting for the screams to subside. When silence reluctantly returns, she continues.

“My name is Demetra. Demetra Pride. And for all my life, I have been called a mistake. A problem that cannot be solved. An abomination. A dirty secret. I was tossed away like nothing, betrayed by the one I thought was my fated. But somehow… that wasn’t my end. To cut my horrible story short,” she pauses, a wry smile playing on her lips, “I am an angel who found her wings again. I no longer paint not from boredom, but for inspiration, for healing, for strength.”

“Not for vengeance,” she says, directed straight at me, “but for justice. My justice is that everyone who failed me will be used as a stepping stone for me to become a better mother, a better person, a better artist. I believe this crowd is here because they resonate with pain. I understand you,” she says softly, “just like you understand me. To art!”

The crowd is on their feet, clapping, screaming, weeping. She gives a final bow and disappears behind the curtain.

I breathe. Or, I try to. Immediately, I start leaving, shoving past the cheering masses.

“Alpha!” My assistant catches up.

“I want to meet her. Now.”

I burst out of the auditorium doors into the lobby.

Promotional posters of her face is everywhere. I pause before the largest one. It’s Demetra, holding up a paint-stained hand.

A bitter laugh comes out of my throat. So I was right. She was with Alpha Ronin and his son, Slade. All along. And now she’s back, parading as his long-lost daughter? The audacity is almost impressive.

I stalk past one promotional stand with her face, then another. There is a long toward the meet-and-greet, even the VIP line is packed. I cut straight to the front, ignoring the protests.

“Hey, back of the line!”

“Who does he think he is?”

My assistant lays dangerous warning to the complainers. “I wouldn’t advise laying a hand on him unless you want to leave here missing a few teeth.

We reach the velvet rope guarded by fourly bouncer. He shake his head while blocking the doorway I don’t argue. My list connects with his face and I step over him into the restricted are

Behind me, whistles shriek, voices yell, but I’m already moving Backstage.

Almost immediately, I see Demetra, coming with Slade beside . He is holding her hand and they’re smiling at each other

They both look up as security pours in behind me. Demetra’s eys incet mine.

“Sir, we’re sorry, he just punched one of the security to get in

2/4

O

<

18:30 Fri, Apr 3 TO.

Chapter 11

Slade doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Call backup. All of you, go and get backup.”

Deliberately, Slade positions his body squarely between Demetr and me, obstructing my view of her.

“What is this, Alpha Emris?” he asks.

I ignore and focus on the woman behind him.

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“So, it was you? It was you at the school. Disappeared for five years but you’ve been with the Lion pack all along? My enemies!? So you were exactly what I called you on that very day I expect my words to land, to wound, to crack that serene mask the way they used to.

Nothing. Demetra looks at me as if I’m a stranger.

“Demetra Pride?” I take a step closer, only to be blocked more firmly by Slade. “That the new name you got as a reward after cheating on me?”

“Stop talking. Are you blind? Can’t you see she’s not responding Slade says.

At that, a volcanic heat surges behind my eyes. The colors begin o shift, my wolf’s gaze bleeds through like a weapon I know Slade, of all people, can’t stand.

He brings that old smirk from our childhood. “You don’t scare me, Emris. You don’t scare anyone with those eyes. But if you look in a mirror, you might scare yourself.”

The insult, the reference to my lack of control, is a spark to tinder. You know what? I might not wait for the Alpha Fest. I might just take his wrist off right here.

But as the thought forms, Slade’s big gammas come to surround us. Demetra is showing no reaction to my rage or violence. She is a beautiful, frozen statue.

A small sound breaks the staring contest.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

A little girl’s voice.

Demetra’s face transforms instantly. All the ice is replaced by a warmth I remember from a different life.

“Mommy, congratulations!” the little girl chirps.

I stare at the child’s face. As I look at her face, a sense of familiar y wraps around my throat and squeezes.

“Thank you, Amira.”

Amira. That’s her name.

Demetra’s attention is entirely on the little girl whose hand she ow holds. But the moment she looks at me again, she hisses. “I want him out of the establishingnt. And I don’t care if’s an Alpha.”

She’s dismissing me. As if I’m nothing. As she turns to lead her ughter away, a question claws its way out of my throat

“Who’s her father!?”

Demetra stops. The little girl Amira looks back at me over her soulder Something in her face triggers a confusing twist in my gut. It’s not just jealousy and regret at the thought of anothe male putting this baby in Demetra

“As long as it’s not you.” Demetra glares at me like venom

3/4

18:30 Fri, Apr 3 TO.

Chapter 11

71%

55 vouchers

So, that’s the trigger. Mention her daughter, and I get a reaction part of her I’ve never seen before. A mother wolf’s ferocity.

She walks away, and Slade’s gammas close ranks around me. I raise a hand, not in surrender, but to save them. I could dismantle them right here, but I’ll spare them the broken bones for now.

My eyes don’t leave the retreating figures. Slade follows beside Demetra like protective partner.

Is Slade her husband? Is Slade the father?

But then, why would she claim to be Kael’s daughter? Did Kael adopt her? Did they make up this entire elaborate lie just to give her a title in his pack?

Questions. Questions. That’s all I have.

4/4

田

Chapter 11

Emris.

$5 voustiers

My assistant dealt with the line, the ticket check, all the mundang irritations. Once my ticket is scanned, I leave the confines of my car and enter the auditorium. I paid for a front-row VIP seat. I don’t just want to see; I need to witness this first-hand.

The ticket promises a first-class live painting performance, followed by a meet and greet with the artist. Over the years, I’ve acquired every piece this artist has ever produced. Somehow, their work is the only thing that has ever spoken to the gutting loss I’ve carried since my mate vanished five years ago.

The artist uses flowers, faceless figures….usually a woman, sometimes a man to convey a depth of feeling I recognize in my own bones. I appreciate that.

After a few minutes, the entire auditorium plunges into darkness A recorded introduction plays, talking about artistic journey. Then music begins. Cello. Violin. The notes are a melody that could make someone weep. Not me, of course. But it’s undeniably powerful.

A curtain I hadn’t noticed before opens and a figure emerges into the deep gloom. It’s too dark for normal wolf eyes. But my Trybrid senses strain and I see a silhouette. And… white. A flash of white hair.

Suddenly, brilliant spotlight ignites, not on the figure, but on a massive, blank canvas beside her. The crowd murmurs. The light begins to captures a hand…it’s slender as she dips into a palette of color and applies the first stroke to the canvas.

A louder hum of realization passes through the audience when they realize she’s a woman.

Then, a scent assaults me!

It floods my lungs. My entire body seizes. I clap a hand over my face, fumbling desperately with the buttons of my shirt that’s suddenly strangling me. My heart convulses. What in the Hell? Why is Demetra’s sc

Metra begins to paint. The music swells around her and the crowd is mesmerized, whisp Metra!” They chant her name. Metra.

ow?

… “We love you!” “Go.

For twenty agonizing minutes, I am pinned to my seat. The music screams toward its peak. Lights at the very back of the auditorium begin to come on, one row after another, a march of illumination speeds toward the stage,

In drumbeats, a devastating spotlight crashes down onto the woman at the center of it all and reveals her face to us.

It’s Demetra-

I am on my feet as she bows to the thunderous applause, one had placed elegantly on her knee. The wicked shit in her dress rides high on her thigh, revealing a flash of skin I used to claimd possess.

My breath is gone. My life, in this moment, feels ended. A tight in whips through my chest as people claps furiously, screaming her name.

Miss Pride. The woman from the school. That was Demetra My Demetra.

Flowers, dozens of them from the highest point of the auditorit to fall in her hair I see her smile. And her eyes those eyes that once made me feel like I could be a better man, even when I knew, deep down, I was nothing but anger and roughness.

She is even more breath-taking now. Her cheeks have a lovelier urve, her lips lips I memorized from every sigh and mean they ever gave me. They are set in a gracious smile. Her hair everything about her is astomshing. I can’t bring unself to look away

She adjusts the mic and looks across the crowd. Then I see the sight tremble in her fingers. That’s when I realize she can’t see me yet, but she can smell me. Just as her scent is a brand on by soul, mine is a shock to her system Her eyes search.

1/4

O

<

18:30 Fri, Apr 3 TO.

Chapter 11

darting, until…

They find mine.

Demetra.

“Thank you….everyone, for coming to see me.” Her voice is a melody I haven’t heard in five years.

“Metra, we love you!”

1. 71%u

56 vouchers

Bouquets are hurled onto the stage. She places a hand over her heart, eyes tearing away from mine. I see her chest rise with immense breath as the crowd’s love washes over her. From the corner of her eye, a tear escapes. She is moved. By them.

“Thank you so much.” She says, waiting for the screams to subside. When silence reluctantly returns, she continues.

“My name is Demetra. Demetra Pride. And for all my life, I have been called a mistake. A problem that cannot be solved. An abomination. A dirty secret. I was tossed away like nothing, betrayed by the one I thought was my fated. But somehow… that wasn’t my end. To cut my horrible story short,” she pauses, a wry smile playing on her lips, “I am an angel who found her wings again. I no longer paint not from boredom, but for inspiration, for healing, for strength.”

“Not for vengeance,” she says, directed straight at me, “but for justice. My justice is that everyone who failed me will be used as a stepping stone for me to become a better mother, a better person, a better artist. I believe this crowd is here because they resonate with pain. I understand you,” she says softly, “just like you understand me. To art!”

The crowd is on their feet, clapping, screaming, weeping. She gives a final bow and disappears behind the curtain.

I breathe. Or, I try to. Immediately, I start leaving, shoving past the cheering masses.

“Alpha!” My assistant catches up.

“I want to meet her. Now.”

I burst out of the auditorium doors into the lobby.

Promotional posters of her face is everywhere. I pause before the largest one. It’s Demetra, holding up a paint-stained hand.

A bitter laugh comes out of my throat. So I was right. She was with Alpha Ronin and his son, Slade. All along. And now she’s back, parading as his long-lost daughter? The audacity is almost impressive.

I stalk past one promotional stand with her face, then another. There is a long toward the meet-and-greet, even the VIP line is packed. I cut straight to the front, ignoring the protests.

“Hey, back of the line!”

“Who does he think he is?”

My assistant lays dangerous warning to the complainers. “I wouldn’t advise laying a hand on him unless you want to leave here missing a few teeth.

We reach the velvet rope guarded by fourly bouncer. He shake his head while blocking the doorway I don’t argue. My list connects with his face and I step over him into the restricted are

Behind me, whistles shriek, voices yell, but I’m already moving Backstage.

Almost immediately, I see Demetra, coming with Slade beside . He is holding her hand and they’re smiling at each other

They both look up as security pours in behind me. Demetra’s eys incet mine.

“Sir, we’re sorry, he just punched one of the security to get in

2/4

O

<

18:30 Fri, Apr 3 TO.

Chapter 11