Maya squeezed her eyes shut at Derek’s proclamation.

  She didn’t know whether to be furious he’d said it aloud without her consent, or relieved he still knew her well enough to recognize her mate.

  It told her he hadn’t completely forgotten their closeness. It also sparked something small and foolish inside her—hope that they might reconcile one day, if her father didn’t demand something selfish of her.

  This thought was solidified when he asked everyone to vacate the room, except for his close friends.

  “Derek, what did you just say?” she heard Leo ask moments later, and sighed. This was getting harder by the minute.

  “You both are mates,” Derek replied, arms folded. “How come you don’t know? Or are you ignoring the mate bond because of me?”

  “No,” Leo said quickly, eyes widening at the claim. He had wanted the beauty before him to be his mate, but he knew she wasn’t. There was no mate pull. No scent. Nothing.

  “Then what’s the problem?” Derek asked, ignoring the blatant stares of his friends. As much as he resented his cousin, he wouldn’ t want her mateless, or worse, rejected.

  He knew how rejection could destroy someone—especially now, when she’d found a mate who couldn’t even feel her.

  “I don’t know. I just don’t feel the mate pull.” Leo tried to keep his voice steady, ignoring the stab of pain he felt at the hurt flickering in Maya’s deep blue eyes.

  “But how are you sure she’s my mate?” he asked Derek, who seemed more certain than anyone else.

  “I know my cousin,” Derek said simply. “And I know you’re her mate. I just don’t understand why you’re not clicking.”

  “Maya,” he called, turning to her. “Do you know why this is happening? Why the mate bond isn’t working? Did you take anything?”

  He ran through possibilities. Nothing made sense. Even Maru was silent. Maybe his mother would know.

  “I don’t know,” Maya whispered, shoulders slumping. “I need some fresh air.”

  She turned and walked out of the hall.

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  “You’re not going after her?” Derek asked Leo.

  “No.” Leo didn’t hesitate. If she were his mate, he’d feel something—anything. Not this soft pull of admiration that could disappear by morning.

  “Okay then,” Derek muttered. He wasn’t going to force him.

  “So how do we get to your uncle’s pack?” Leo asked, clearly ready to move on.

  “Lead them to the conference room. My uncle’s waiting there. He’ll take you all to his pack. Be vigilant still.”

  —

  Derek walked toward the garden, having argued for several minutes with Maru about where Maya would go to cry.

  He exhaled in relief when he spotted his mother coming from that direction—though she looked frazzled.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?”

  “I just saw your cousin in the garden. She was crying… really crying. What happened?” Melvina was terribly curious.

  Maya hardly ever cried.

  “She found her mate… but he didn’t recognize her. Or the bond,” Derek said quietly, rubbing his forehead.

  “What? How is that possible?” Melvina asked, startled. The mate bond couldn’t fail unless someone veiled or tampered with it—an unlikely scenario.

  And who would do that to the girl?

  “I don’t know. I planned to ask you.” Derek turned toward the garden. “We should ask if she took anything that could’ve suppressed the bond.”

  Melvina nodded and followed after him.

  —

  Maya wiped her tears with Zoe’s scarf when she heard footsteps. She stood quickly, scanning the garden.

  Relief softened her features when she saw only Derek and his mother. And when her aunt opened her arms—unexpected, wide, welcoming—Maya didn’t hesitate.

  She ran into her embrace, sobbing all over again.

  “He didn’t recognize me,” she repeated, voice breaking.

  “It’s okay,” Melvina murmured, rubbing her back in slow circles, having forgiven the latter ages ago after her betrayal. The little girl had just been a pawn.

  When Maya finally pulled away, she managed a real smile at her aunt—ignoring Derek’s stunned expression.

  “Aunt, I’ve missed you,” she said, finally letting the facade drop.

  “I’ve missed you too, dear,” Melvina said, gently smoothing her hair. “Now tell me… why were you crying?”

  “My mate…” Maya began, but emotion rose again.

  “Yes, I know,” Melvina said softly. “Did you take anything unusual recently?”

  “Not really,” Maya said automatically. Then her wolf nudged a memory—her father handing her a bitter liquid two days ago, meant to veil her scent.

  She stiffened.

  “Are you sure?” her aunt pressed.

  “No… except for a bitter liquid my father gave me two days ago,” Maya admitted quietly, praying that wasn’t the cause.

  “Do you know the name?” Melvina asked, dread flickering in her eyes.

  “Yes. He called it the Panjyo potion.”

  And just like that, she confirmed her aunt’s worst fear.