She took a step closer, her chin lifting in challenge.
“That is not my dream. I’m not going to be used for your goals or ambitions. I came here to bake desserts and serve as a cultural centerpiece for your festival. Nothing more.”
The words flayed him open, each accusation landing with surgical precision. His tiger snarled, wanting to somehow convince her to stay through sheer force of will. But Kovrak held himself utterly still, recognizing that this moment balanced on the edge of a blade.
Twenty years of diplomatic training, of managing crises and navigating political storms, and none of it had prepared him for this. For watching his mate prepare to walk away because he’d been too much of a coward to tell her the truth.
“You’re right.” The admission cost him, but he forced it out. “I should have told you everything last night. I was wrong to withhold the full scope of the expectations.”
Faith’s eyes flashed. “Expectations? Try demands. Liora told me I’m supposed to be courted this week, evaluated by your people, and mated by festival’s end. How is that different from being sold?”
The comparison hit him like a dagger to the heart, making his tiger roar with offense. But beneath the instinctive reaction lay a terrible recognition—she wasn’t entirely wrong.
“My uncle hired Gerri to find my fated mate,” Kovrak said, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “You are that mate, Faith. Fate doesn’t care about species—it only sees compatibility.”
She stared at him as if he’d spoken in an alien tongue. “Fated mate? I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means?—“
“No.” She cut him off, her voice rising. “I didn’t agree to any of this. And now I find out Gerri manipulated me into coming here under false pretenses? That woman is?—“
“Don’t blame Gerri.” The words came out sharper than he intended, his protective instincts flaring. “She was doing the job my uncle hired her for, and she did it well. This is my fault because of last year.”
Kovrak dragged his hand through his hair, destroying the careful styling. His composure—twenty years of practiced control—cracked under the weight of potential loss.
“I didn’t ask my uncle to hire her. Merral went behind my back to handle what he saw as my ‘mate problem’ because he was afraid I’d fail again. I’m just as upset about the manipulation as you are.”
Faith’s anger wavered slightly, confusion creeping into her expression. “Then why are you defending it?”
“Because I understand his concerns.” The admission felt like swallowing glass. “This was a last-ditch effort to save my throne. Twenty years of festivals, Faith. Twenty years of failing to secure the future my people need.”
She pressed her palms against her temples. “I feel bad for your situation, I do. But I can’t be what your future is riding on. This is insane and unfair and too much pressure.”
Her voice broke slightly on the last word, and something in Kovrak’s chest shattered.
“I need to leave now,” she whispered.
His tiger raged, demanding he block the door and refuse to let her go. But Kovrak had learned long ago that strength sometimes meant restraint.
Faith swayed slightly, the color draining from her face as the full implications crashed over her. Kovrak moved without thinking, catching her elbow as she stumbled.
“Easy.” His voice gentled as he guided her to the plush armchair near the windows. “Take some deep breaths.”
She collapsed into the chair, her head falling into her hands. Kovrak knelt beside her, close enough to catch her if she fainted but careful not to crowd her.
“If you want to leave,” he said quietly, “I will not stop you.”
The words cost him everything. His tiger howled in protest, demanding he fight for what was his. But Faith needed choice, not coercion. She needed to know she had power in this situation.
Her breathing gradually steadied, some of the sharp edges of her anger softening—not gone, but less jagged.
“I did not sign up to become mated and engaged to a white tiger prince in seven days,” she said finally. “I never would have signed that contract if I’d known.”
“I understand.”
Kovrak shifted tactics, recognizing that pushing the mate bond would only drive her further away. Instead, he reached for the one thing that had genuinely connected them—her craft.
“I was looking forward to watching you work,” he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “To seeing how your mind approaches creation. To tasting something no one on Nova Aurora has ever experienced before.”