Confusing, but enlightening, talks

Ivy P.O.V.

“What is your name, little faerie?” Mr. Hot and handsome asks me. It should be absolutely forbidden to look so good. I swallow several times, but no words want to come out. Why am I like this? Normally I wouldn’t have trouble giving an answer or some sassy remark. He sighs, dragging a chair to the bed, sitting down in that instead of on the bed as his mother did. Some part of me is very glad he seems to be respectful and mindful of me, and the other small part of me is very disappointed that he didn’t crawl into bed with me. “I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, but I am only interested in helping. You are my mate. My destined love. I wont ever hurt you! I promise.” I take a deep breath. Raven is urging me to talk to him. And she is right. If he was chosen by the Gods to be mine, then I should at least tell him my name. But fear and worry swirls in my stomach. What if he learns of my heritage? Will he dismiss me, or maybe something worse? How would I survive that?