The Alpha's Unwanted Mate
The Alpha’s Unwanted Mate Chapter 12

Celeste’s heart sunk at his words. Why was he being so harsh?

She disobeyed him, yes…but she disobeyed him for his own good. If she hadn’t cooked, then would he have had anything to eat?

Huffing pitifully at herself, she turned to face away from him. “I know you don’t like me, it’s obvious, but do you have to treat me this bad?”

“I told you, didn’t I? You were selfish and inconsiderate to your sister, so I’ll just have to be the same to you.”

Her sister again, everything resolved around her. Celeste could bet on her life that if Celia had been the one to disobey him, a plate of food would still be secured for her.

Life…oh how unfair it was.

Blinking away the tears that threatened to fall, Celeste marched her way back into the kitchen, her head hanged low. She felt tired…drained; both mentally and physically. Her body was still hot and now sweating, her heart was aching…and it was all because of him.

This time she meant it, she hated him and she wouldn’t stop hating him until she died.

Plucking a pack of ramen noodle from the cupboard, she made herself another bowl of plain soup, and with it in hand, she walked her way back out to the table where Zillon sat, taking a seat.

She took up her spoon, pouting down at her food. She didn’t want it, but with no other choice, it was what she had to eat. Her fingers hesitated, but eventually, a spoon full of soup ended up in the confines of her mouth. She swallowed, eyes zooming in on Zillon who was still eating.

He still had the two plates in front of him, one untouched and the other half filled. Was that how slow he ate?

Celeste filled her spoon with soup again, bringing it to her lips. Was the food she cooked not edible?

Did she add to much milk? Too little? Too much cheese? Too little? Were the noodles soggy? Over or undercooked? Was the seasoning, the salt—

Celeste’s thoughts scattered when Zillon shoved the plate he had yet to touch closer to her. “Here, at least you’re capable of being obedient.”

And then he eased out of his seat, taking his plate along with him as he walked away.

Celeste looked down at the plate, then at his retreating form. Was he just now nice to her?

Did he just…?

Celeste’s bottom l*p dropped, her heart flipping twice in her chest. The hate she had just now pronounced on his name was completely lifted and all that was left was the love she had previously felt…

It seems Zillon wasn’t as bad as he looked. When he took both plates of food, he really did look like a cruel alpha, but when he returned it, he had grown two white wings in Celeste’s eyes.

An angel…that’s what he was, he had halo over his head and one over her heart. She wanted to touch him, hug him maybe, but as soon as she reached out, he disappeared up the stairs.

She wished he was hers; completely and irrevocably, but she’d give him time. She had to put herself in his shoes, she had to see things from his perspective, she had to understand.

Celia and him had been dating for three years, both of them must’ve thought they were destined and then she swooped down out of nowhere like a nightingale and gobbled him up like a worm.

He must’ve felt angry, he was in love with one twin, but got mated to the other. He probably needs time to adjust, to get use to the fact that Celia wasn’t the chosen one for him, maybe then he’ll finally look at Celeste.

Pushing the bowl of noodle away, Celeste reached for the plate. She’ll give him time, she wouldn’t force him to love her…in due time, he will…she was his mate after all.

When Celeste finished eating, she showered, brushed her teeth, then hauled on her pyjama for bed. But what bother her was the fact that she had showered with cold water and yet her body still felt hot. On her forehead were tiny beads of sweat, and in the pit of her stomach was a distinct ache.

The feeling felt familiar, it felt like heat without the crave for s*x, the crave for her mate, but then again, it could be a fever too.

Sighing, she laid back against her bed, hoping to god that it was just a fever. She’d prefer a headache over heat any day. It was more painful, more torturous…she despised the feeling, intensely too.

Grabbing the sheets, she covered herself, hoping that sleep would take her soon. It did, but deep in her slumber, what she thought was a fever escalated into the same heat she had two days back. It was stronger, more potent, more prominent.

It made sleeping a torture, but what about when she woke up?

Will she be able to withstand the pain? The constant arousal? The crave for Zillon?

Will she be able to think straight? To really not force herself on her mate?

Will she be able to stay away?

A/N// Uhhh… Don’t look at me like that? This was inevitable.