Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate-Chapter 164: Don’t Want to Talk About It...
Selene’s lip trembled, but she quickly masked it, tilting her chin defiantly. "I’m not your fated mate, but what if you are my fated mate?" she asked.
Damian didn’t hesitate. "I don’t feel that kind of connection with you."
The truth in his words and the manner he had said it, crushed Selene.
Her nails dug into her palms, as she took in sharp and uneven breaths. "Neither did you with Evelina at first." Her voice wavered, but she pushed through. "You didn’t know she was meant for you for a long while, did you?"
Damian stiffened.
Selene took a step closer, her golden eyes giving off a bit of spark. "Then maybe I just need time. Maybe I just need to make you see it."
Damian clenched his jaw. "Selene—"
"I’ll keep trying," she whispered. "Just like Evelina did."
Damian’s wolf, Storm, snarled in his mind. "You’re not Evelina," Damian’s voice edged. "Plus she wasn’t trying. It just happened when the Moon Goddess wanted it to."
Selene’s lips trembled, but she quickly masked it with a forced smirk. "We shall see." 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶
And with that, she turned around and walked away, disappearing into the moonlit shadows.
Damian stood there for a long moment. His body was tense, and his wolf paced restlessly in his mind.
Then, without another second of hesitation, he turned and ran after Evelina.
********
Evelina’s breath came in sharp and uneven bursts as she stormed through the dimly lit corridors of the palace.
She didn’t know where she was going at first—her body moved on instinct, desperate to get as far away from the gardens as possible.
Her heart clenched, her wolf, Relia, growling furiously in her mind.
"Damian, that bastard," Relia seethed. "I say we go back and—"
"No," Evelina cut her off in a shaky voice. "I don’t want to talk about it."
But she couldn’t ignore the ache clawing at her chest.
Selene.
Selene in his arms.
Selene with her lips close to his.
Evelina clenched her fists. She had been a fool to even...
"Going somewhere in such a rush, my lady?"
The deep, amused voice made Evelina stop in her tracks.
She lifted her head and found Prince Kyle of OakenShaw leaning casually against a pillar somewhere close to the guest chambers.
His mesmerizing ocean blue eyes studied her curiously.
Evelina immediately schooled her expression, straightening her spine. "What do you want, Kyle?"
Kyle arched his brow. "Is that any way to greet a visiting prince?"
She exhaled, forcing patience. "It’s late."
Kyle tilted his head, keeping his smirk in place. But then, his gaze flickered over her, taking in her slightly erratic breathing, the tightness of her jaw, the way her hands curled at her sides.
His smirk dropped. "What happened?"
Evelina’s stomach twisted. The last thing she wanted was Kyle of all people digging into this. "Nothing."
Kyle took a step forward with an unreadable expression. "You look like you just saw something that made you want to set the whole palace on fire."
Evelina let out a humorless chuckle. "Not far from the truth."
Kyle’s eyes sharpened.
He studied her face, then glanced behind her as if expecting someone else to be there.
"Let me guess," he said in a slower, more calculating voice. "You had a little... encounter with our dear Prince Damian."
Evelina stiffened but said nothing.
Kyle hummed. "And let me further guess—it involved Selene. I can smell the hurt and betrayal radiating off of you."
Her silence was enough answer for him.
Kyle sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Well, I could say ’I told you so,’ but that would be insensitive."
Evelina gave him a dry look. "Since when has that stopped you?"
Kyle grinned. "Fair point." Then, his voice softened just slightly. "Evelina."
She exhaled and turned away. "I don’t want to talk about it, Kyle."
Kyle, however, was nothing if not persistent.
"You know, bottling things up isn’t exactly healthy," he mused. "I’d know. I’m exceptionally good at it."
Evelina rolled her eyes. "Wonderful. Then let’s both bottle it up and call it a night."
Kyle chuckled, stepping closer until he was right beside her. "You don’t have to talk. But standing here brooding? Not your best look."
Evelina scoffed. "And what would be my best look?"
Kyle smirked. "Hard to say. I’ve seen you being chased by assassins before, and even then, you still managed to look annoyingly composed."
Evelina gave him a flat stare. "That’s supposed to make me feel better?"
Kyle shrugged. "It was a compliment."
A pause.
Then... Evelina’s lips twitched. Just slightly.
Kyle’s smirk widened. "Ah. There it is."
Evelina sighed, shaking her head. "You’re insufferable."
"I prefer relentlessly charming," Kyle corrected. "But I’ll take what I can get."
Evelina rolled her eyes again, but the tightness in her chest had loosened just a bit.
Kyle studied her for another moment before exhaling. "Alright, I’ll stop being annoyingly supportive and let you get some rest."
He turned to go, but just before he stepped away, he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering.
"But if you ever want to set something on fire, just let me know. I’ll bring the matches."
Evelina let out a small, reluctant chuckle. "You know... sometimes, you can be tolerable."
Kyle placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Tolerable? I’m wounded, my lady."
Evelina rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched again, betraying the slight amusement she felt.
She had to admit—Kyle had a way of dragging her away from her own mind, if only for a moment.
Kyle studied her carefully before his smirk softened into something more genuine. "Since I’m being so tolerable, why don’t you join me for dinner?"
Evelina blinked. "Dinner?"
Kyle shrugged. "It’s late, and I doubt you’ve eaten. I know I haven’t."
Evelina hesitated, her mind still tangled in the mess of emotions from earlier. "Kyle, I don’t think that’s a good idea."
He arched a brow. "Why not?"
She sighed, folding her arms. "Because people will talk. The court will start whispering that I’ve taken up your offer to marry you." Her tone grew sharper. "And we both know I haven’t. I’m still Damian’s mate."
Kyle tilted his head, his smirk flickering with something unreadable. "Still his mate, yes. But does he deserve you?"







