I try to muster up some confidence. "I don't care what you have to say. We're not fated mates. I would––I would know if we were!"

"Would you though?" His amusement is gone, replaced by a frown on his face. "You should have realized it the moment you took in my scent outside the bar. Father must have really kept you sheltered for you not to even understand your own basic instincts."

My hands are trembling now.

He's not joking.

He really thinks we're fated mates.

I was never taught what other ...