The word settled hard into the room, and it seemed to draw the very breath from each of their lungs as they stared at me in disbelief. “Mates are from storybooks.” My father cocked his head slightly as if he could see through me, see the lies he believed I told. “And we have grown tired of your lies.” “She is my mate.” I said each word slowly, letting them land as hard as I intended. “She is bound to me as I am bound to her.”
