Choice Taken

Harlyn

Stefan’s words confused me until I felt his lips against my neck. I pulled, trying to break out of his hold.

“Stefan!” My scream echoes around us as I feel his teeth pierce through my skin and silence me. My hands clasp onto him, and I begin to feel like I’m flying, a small whimper escaping my lips as I cling to him as he claims me.

My head falls back in pleasure, and I feel his tongue sweep across the bite, sealing it perfectly. I don’t move; I feel weightless and whole for a short time. Every part of my body feels content and perfect.

“Harlyn Richmose, you belong to me now.” He whispers these words, and he kisses my neck.

No. He can’t have.

No! Not even Stefan is that evil to do it without my permission.

I don’t want to believe this. I don’t want to believe him.

“What did you do?” I ask, feeling like I need it confirmed.

He wouldn’t. Stefan wouldn’t be so cruel to do this.

Oh God, how do I explain this to Wayne?

“How dare you!” I scream, all the rage I felt towards him before comes back stronger, hitting me harder.

Who the hell does he think he is? He might be the king and own everything, but not me. He never owned me, and I won’t let him.

My mind is flooded with hatred and anger, and I don’t even understand where it is coming from, but it’s aimed at Stefan.

“Harlyn, I’m your mate. You’re mine,” Stefan says calmly as if he didn’t just do this. Standing, I stagger away from him, and his hands capture me again.

I swear I want to kill him. My body fights against his grip.

“We’re not mates! You’re a fool if you truly believe we can ever be mates. I hate you! I despise you, Stefan, and no matter what you do or say, I always will.” I scream and push against him.

“You’re a bastard, Stefan!” I swing and punch him, my hand repeatedly hitting against his chest as I cry. Why the hell do I now feel like I love him?

It makes no difference. My hate for him seems to be destroying any feelings quickly and replacing them with pure hate. For years, you treated me worse than an animal.

He would mock me, call me names, and push me out. He would call me worthless and make me feel like I wasn’t worthy to even live, let alone be his mate. He took great pleasure in ensuring I knew I wasn’t his mate, and now, he claims me?

Just like that will wipe out the years of verbal abuse he threw my way. He can do nothing to remove that, to dull the hate and rage within me. If I had a wolf I would happily rip him apart right now.

I wouldn’t care about the consequences of me killing the king. I would relish in watching him bleed out.

God, what is wrong with me? That’s not me. My head shakes as I try to stop the burning rage that continues to build within me.

“You carry my mark, Harlyn. Even if you don’t want to, you do.” His words are soothing, but I pull back, breaking free from his hold.

“You’re wrong! Stay away from me. I mean it; don’t even look at me.” I can’t have him near me. I swear if there was a knife around, I would stab him right now, and that scares me.

“I won’t, and I can’t, even if I wanted to.” He steps closer, and I step back. “Actually, Harlyn, you won’t be able to stay away from me either.”

My neck is itching, and I rub my hand against it.

“You’re wrong. I hate you,” I shout, feeling my neck worsen. “I will never forgive you, Stefan; you just ruined every chance you had of me ever forgiving you,” I scream and push him back.

“Stop, just let me help you.”

I laugh at his words. “Help me! You did this to me. You did it.” I scream, feeling like I need to claw at my neck to stop the pain and itching. I slap his hand away and step back, and he moves closer.

“Harlyn, just let me ease your neck. That is all I am asking.” He reaches for me, and I push him away, his body moving and pinning mine against the wall. “Stop, just let me help.”

“Screw you, Stefan!” Screaming, I fight against him and feel his mouth against my neck. His hands capture mine and pin them down.

“Don’t touch me!” My words are screamed, but at the same time, I push my neck closer to him, feeling his lips kiss along the bite. Instantly, it begins to soothe. My body relaxes into his hold as his tongue sweeps across the bite mark and stops the itching and pain.

I don’t move; my body relaxes into him, and that feeling of love washes through me, and I keep my eyes closed.

“I told you I could help.” My eyes snap open, hearing his words, and the anger floods through me again. Swinging my knee forward, I hit him.

“Screw you! You know what, Stefan, I would rather die than step closer to you again. You repulse me!” My words scream, and I shock myself, unsure of where the anger comes from. Momentarily, it was gone, and I felt like me. Then he spoke, and every bit of rage bit back and threw itself forward.

I begin to run away from him.

“Harlyn, please just wait.” Stefan’s words follow me as I continue to run, trying to escape what he has done and the hate and anger that I feel when I see him. I don’t stop; I continue to run even after my legs tire.

I run until my legs finally collapse, and I fall to the ground crying. The rain pours down hard, and I consider this. Everything tonight was strange; I hated Stefan for what he put me through growing up.

As I laid there, I remembered everything. I remembered how much we loved each other before he stopped caring about me. I felt so close to him at that moment. Then he spoke, and rage began to build in me, and it was all for him.

I thought I was crazy, but it happened again. It died down when he claimed me. It felt like before, before I left, when I still held out hope for him. He spoke, and again, rage built, and I wanted to hurt him. No, I wanted to kill him.

Sighing, I walk back to the manor, prepared to speak to my mother. I need to tell her what is going on and what has happened. As I get into her chambers, I stop when I see the king. Everyone is here, why?

“My love, I was worried for you.” Wayne’s words have me running into his arms, and he holds me against him.

“Tomorrow,” I speak, looking up at him. He glances at me, confused, so I decide to speak louder, ensuring Stefan hears. “I want to marry you tomorrow, Wayne. I don’t care if I wear trousers and a T-shirt. I want to marry you tomorrow,” I announce.

I hear the gasps from everyone and a growl from Stefan. He won’t win this.