My Fated Mate Can Have Her Chapter 219: Don’t Deny It!

Violet

Why was he like this, he was usually so quiet and gentle....

"You climbed on top of , Violet."

My mouth opened, but no sound ca out.

This wasn’t possible.

This wasn’t—

"You caressed like you owned ." He leaned closer, his green eyes boring into mine, unwavering. "And then you kissed . Right then and there. You kissed like it was the most natural thing in the world."

The rod trembled between us.

I wanted to deny it. I wanted to call him a liar again, to hold onto the outrage that had flared so hot just monts ago.

But I couldn’t.

Because I was looking into his eyes, and there was no deception there or desperate manipulation.

No... he couldn’t be telling the truth.

My mind raced backward, clawing through fragnted mories of that night. The festival. The lights. The strange drink that had tasted sweet and burned warm in my chest. The way everything had gone soft and hazy around the edges.

I rembered wandering through the crowd.

I rembered feeling untethered, like I was floating outside my own body.

And then... nothing.

A blank space where hours should have been.

I had woken the next morning in bed, still dressed, with no mory of how I had gotten there. I had assud Rowan had just simply brought back before he then explained that he did.

Heat rushed to my face so fast it made dizzy. Everything burned.

I had kissed him.

I had climbed on top of him and touched him and kissed him, and I didn’t rember any of it.

Was why his lips had felt familiar in the cave?

So part of had known, even when my conscious mind had no mory of it.

"I don’t—" My voice ca out as barely a whisper. "I don’t rember—"

He leaned even closer, his voice taking on an intense edge. "Or do I need to kiss you again to jog your mory?"

My heart nearly stuttered to a slow stop.

The intensity of his hard gaze, coupled with the low hum of his provocative words sent a sharp thrill straight down my body. To my horror, the warmth of desire spread in between my legs.

For an insane mont, I did want him to pull and kiss senseless.

’What is wrong with you?’

Heat flooded my entire body and my heart started pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Suddenly, the hushed, excited whispers around us snapped out of my crazy thoughts and Rowan seed to co to his senses too.

I had forgotten we weren’t alone.

My face burned hotter, if that was even possible. I could feel their eyes on , their barely concealed interest, their whispered speculation, along with the crowded shuffle as they drew closer.

I wanted to disappear. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow whole.

The moderator cleared his throat weakly. "Maybe... a short break—"

The rod snapped.

The sound cut through everything. It was sharp and sudden, like a bone breaking.

I stared down at the broken piece in our hands, my mind struggling to process what had just happened. The wood had splintered clean through, the two halves now dangling uselessly from our grips.

I had broken it.

My hands had been shaking, and my grip must have been so tight, I had broken it without even realizing.

Silence.

Complete, suffocating silence.

Everyone was staring at .

The moderator’s mouth hung open. The crowd had gone deathly quiet. And Rowan—

I couldn’t even bear to look at Rowan this instant.

"I—" My voice ca out strangled and I stepped back, releasing my grip to leave the entire thing with Rowan.

I looked at the broken rod, then at the moderator, then at the crowd of faces, all watching with a mixture of shock and fascination.

Then I turned and started to briskly walk away.

"Violet—"

"Sir, the rod—that was custom-made!"

I broke into a run, trying to distance myself from that place. If I stopped, I would have to face him. I would have to look into those green eyes and acknowledge everything he had said, everything I had done, everything I couldn’t rember but apparently my body knew intimately.

I pushed through the crowd, weaving between bodies, and retracing my way back to where we stayed.

My chest was tight, my breathing ragged. The mortification was so intense it felt physical, a weight pressing down on my lungs.

I had kissed him.

Before the cave. Before the dance. Before any of it.

I had kissed him first.

And he had kept it to himself all this ti. Why didn’t he say anything?!

I had been running for a while and I was almost out of the large market when I paused to press my back against a nearby wall.

I pressed my fingers against my lips, as if I could sohow feel the echo of that forgotten kiss.

"Violet."

I flinched.

He had followed .

Of course he had followed .

I turned around to say sothing, and before I could speak, he closed the gap between us.

His arms wrapped around .

I went rigid with shock.

He pulled tight against his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other pressed flat against my spine. His chin rested on top of my hair, and I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my cheek.

"I’m sorry," he murmured into my hair. "I shouldn’t have done that. Not there. Not like that."

I stood frozen in his embrace, my arms hanging uselessly at my sides.

"I was immature, and let my frustration get the better of ," he added and my chest felt heavy.

My eyes burned, and I blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall.

"You shouldn’t apologize," I heard myself say. "I was the immature one."

I let myself lean into him.

Just a little.

Just enough to feel the solid warmth of his chest against my cheek, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the gentle pressure of his hand against my hair.

It felt so good.

So unbearably, achingly good.

My hands, still hanging at my sides, slowly rose.

My arms curled around his broad back and I held on.