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Chapter 36
Patricia
Startled, I stumble backward, dropping my mother's severed head with my eyes bulging out of their sockets. Shudders are running up my spine, and the brisk wind does nothing to calm my nerves. I watch the head drop and land in the grass, and then I stare at it until an icy hand is placed on my shoulder.
My first bone-deep instinct is to prepare for a fight, but Alice's concerned eyes make me relax. Even with Tiffany back in town, I consider Alice to be my best friend. I trust her a lot.
"What happened?" Alice asks in a soft tone. "I thought I heard you scream, or did I imagine that?"
I don't even remember screaming—that's how shaken I am. My body isn't working, and my mind is running in circles. Yet I lift my hand and point at the wrapped package in the garden.
"T-That was placed on the porch…" I stammer. I'm not sure if this is a dreadful nightmare. It seems like one, and I would do anything to wake up from it.
Alice follows m
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Dear Enemy, You're My Mate Chapter 37
PatriciaI'm sitting on the couch, wrapped in a colorful and fuzzy blanket, while Elijah is eyeing me. It seems Dior has gotten the entire pack to accept him, even if the handsome man is a vampire.Elijah stares deeply into my eyes, trying to read my soul. "Do you want me to make you forget, lady Patricia? With compulsion, the scene of your father hanging inside your living room could disappear."I shake my head, and when I realize it's not enough to convince the vampire, I speak up."I don't want to forget about what I've seen," I'm hoping my eyes convey the burning desire for revenge. I've been underestimated my entire life, but tonight a fire has been lit up inside of me. An eye-for-an-eye, isn't that what it's called? I wish to make my enemy bleed. "I want to find whoever did this and kill them myself. By my own hands."Elijah gawks at me before exchanging a glance with Dior, who seems very amused by my answer. He is standing a bit further away
Dear Enemy, You're My Mate Chapter 38
Patricia After I've voiced my suspicion, everyone seems to come to the same conclusion—that I'm right or that the killer is someone living on our grounds under our radar. It would make the culprit a human, which Elijah finds rather doubtful, but we aren't leaving anyone out. Alice yawns, stretching her arms. "Will you be alright sleeping by yourself?" I smile at her and nod encouragingly. Elijah and Wesley are borrowing our guestroom downstairs, and while the haunting image of my father will probably prevent me from sleeping, I can't bring myself to tell Alice. She is already super worried about me, and I don't want to keep her up for the rest of the morning. "Yeah, I'm fine. You head upstairs." Alice hands me a smile of her own. I suspect she doesn't believe me to be fine, but one glance at the man listening in on our conversation got her stifling a laugh. "Alright," Alice beams at me. "Sweet dreams, Patricia." I wave her off,
Dear Enemy, You're My Mate Chapter 39
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Dear Enemy, You're My Mate Chapter 40
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Dear Enemy, You're My Mate Chapter 41
Patricia Dior got me pinned against the shower wall with his head slightly tilted to look down at me. There isn't an ounce of fat on his body, and the arm resting on the tiles is heavy with well-developed muscles someone would expect on a pro athlete. I swallow thickly, nervous under his intense gaze, drinking me in. His full lips quirk up higher, and his playfulness shines through his eyes. Jesus Christ—what am I supposed to do? My idea had been to shower, but at the moment, I'm having a hard time ignoring Dior and his carved body. My lower belly is somersaulting already, hyperaware of the alpha man dwarfing me. And even though I'm met with the brick wall that is Dior's front, I'm aware of the muscular bubble butt hiding behind him. "I want you so badly," Dior lowers himself to kiss my neck. It proves hard for him. I'm tiny, more than an inch shorter than Dior, nothing compared to his six-foot-something body, and every part of me flutters when he pic
Dear Enemy, You're My Mate Chapter 42
Older Dior Love makes us weak and brings us down to our knees, but the lack of it is worse—loneliness makes us do scary things, Alice, and if there is any emotion stronger than hate and love combined, its possessiveness, the seed growing within me. "I'm sorry," I drag a cold hand over Alice's face, closing her eyelids. I mull over my following words before speaking them, despite knowing the witch put into trance can't possibly hear me from her mental prison. "I lied to you, little witch, and while that was always my intention, I never expected to care about you. You're my only friend, Alice." I'm speaking the truth. After my pack members died in the battle against June, I never thought my heart would grow to care about another person whose name isn't Patricia. I was wrong. Alice is a fresh breeze in my life. She makes me laugh when everything is dark, but my mind is already set. I want Patricia to be mine—together, we can take over the world.
Dear Enemy, You're My Mate Chapter 43
PatriciaSomething is strange with Dior this morning. I can't put my finger on what is wrong with him, but those usual butterflies aren't there in my stomach when our gazes meet across the table. The mate-bond is strong and stirring, zapping between us like chemical electricity, but it's like my heart isn't entirely sold by Dior this morning.I'm aware this isn't good. My emotions worry me. An hour ago, I was ready to consider completing the mating ritual with Dior, and now I'm glad I didn't let him anywhere close to my neck.Does this mean my feelings for him aren't strong as I first thought since I'm already changing my mind about things? Nothing is making sense right now. I had sex with Dior this morning—how can my flutters be gone and over with already? Oh, god, I can only pray I'm not one of those girls who thinks the grass is greener on the other side!I bite into the pancake piece on my fork, eyeing Dior while he scrolls through his message o
Dear Enemy, You're My Mate Chapter 44
Alice For the first time in my life, I wake up feeling refreshed and entirely awake without a hint of tiredness. Older Dior's magic didn't work on me. I never visited William in my dreams, but at least I'm well-rested and more than ready to take on whatever challenge today will bring. I stretch in my bed, smiling like a fool, when I notice older Dior folded my clothes neatly by the edge of the mattress before leaving. It turns out my friend is a nice guy whenever he isn't stealing my salty Pringles or eating my strawberry cheesecake ice cream. I slip out of bed, put on my clothes, and barely make it through the door before a crying Patricia rushes up the stairs. She moves past me without saying good morning, and confusion is my initial response. Patricia seemed so happy going to bed with Dior yesterday, and now her mascara is running down her face. Did Dior do something to make her cry? Probably. Anger hits me like a tropical wind, and
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