ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 89: Are we mates?

No explanation. No promise of when he would return.

Valerie gave a small nod. She did not ask further as though she already knew that whatever she asked would not be met with the answer she needed.

She walked away toward the castle doors. At the foot of the steps, she paused, glancing back without truly expecting Demian to notice.

But Demian had already returned to the carriage.

The door shut. The driver raised his whip.

The carriage moved again slowly at first, then faster leaving the castle courtyard, leaving Valerie standing there alone.

Valerie watched the back of the carriage until it disappeared beyond the gates.

The afternoon wind brushed gently against her dress.

And for the first time, she realized something with painful clarity:

She no longer knew where Demian was going and Demian did not feel the need to tell her.

The carriage stopped not far from the camp.

Demian stepped down slowly. The ground was still damp with morning dew, the cold air biting into his skin, yet his gaze remained hard. Ahead of him, Ivanka stood upright, her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes fixed on him at once sharp, assessing, as though she had been waiting for this moment all along.

"I thought you wouldn’t come back," she said at last, her voice calm, though a trace of bitterness slipped through.

Demian glanced at her briefly. "I will come back," he replied curtly. "I always do."

Ivanka let out a small, crooked smile that never reached her eyes. "Is that so?"

She took a step closer. "Then... we’re still a couple, aren’t we?"

Demian did not hesitate. "Of course." He lifted a brow slightly. "You don’t think so?"

Ivanka gave a short, bitter laugh. "I’ve been patient enough, Demian." Her gaze hardened. "I accepted you even when you chose to keep a... woman like that."

She emphasized the word deliberately, with contempt.

"How long?" Ivanka continued. "How long are you going to keep her by your side? Have you given any thought at all to what this does to our relationship?" 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Demian stared straight ahead, not at her. "For now," he said flatly, "I like her."

The words fell like a blade.

Ivanka’s expression shifted instantly. Her smile vanished, replaced by anger she could barely conceal. "You like her?" she repeated sharply. "That woman and the women before her are they all the same to you?"

Demian did not answer.

The silence stretched.

Ivanka waited. Her breathing grew slightly uneven, her eyes locked onto Demian’s face, as if hoping for denial, an explanation anything.

But Demian remained silent.

A painful silence.

"You don’t deny it," Ivanka whispered. Her voice trembled. "Answer me."

Demian still did not move.

Ivanka swallowed, then asked in a quieter voice one far more dangerous than before,

"Do you love her?"

Silence.

The wind rustled between them, carrying the scent of the forest and the ashes of a dying campfire. Demian did not look away. He did not answer.

And in that silence, Ivanka finally understood:

Not being answered was the cruelest answer of all.

Ivanka let out a sharp breath, then looked Demian straight in the eye, as if forcing him to face the truth he had been avoiding all along.

"So... you love her."

Demian finally spoke, but not with the answer she wanted.

"That’s none of your concern."

Ivanka let out a small laugh dry, bitter. "It is my concern," she said sharply. "Because you are my mate."

Demian turned to her. "Nothing about that has changed," he said coldly. "You’re still my mate. But I like her too."

Those words made Ivanka clench her fists. Her chest rose and fell, anger and hurt colliding inside her.

"I can’t keep giving in forever, Demian," she said, her voice trembling. "I’m not a shadow you can push aside whenever you want."

Demian exhaled, his tone flat, almost weary.

"Then... you can release our bond."

Ivanka stared at him as if she had just been struck. "Do you think it’s that easy?" she whispered.

Demian did not answer.

Silence fell again, heavier than before.

"You used to like me," Ivanka went on, her voice now sharpened by pain. "Even after we were bound. How could you turn away now... for a cheap woman like her?"

Demian opened his mouth then closed it again. He didn’t know what to say. There was no answer that felt right, no sentence that could justify what he had done without hurting one of them.

Ivanka saw his hesitation.

And it only made her angrier.

"If you can’t get rid of her," she said softly, her tone laced with threat, "before we marry then you’ll see how I do it myself."

She turned to leave.

"Ivanka," Demian reflexively grabbed her wrist. "I’ll take you home."

Ivanka stopped. Slowly, she looked down at his hand gripping her, then lifted her gaze to his face. She stepped closer too close.

"Tell me," she whispered. "Do I still matter to you?"

Demian looked at her.

His gaze was empty no warmth, no certainty, nothing like before.

And he didn’t answer.

Ivanka understood everything in that instant.

Her eyes hardened. She shoved Demian, making him stagger back half a step.

"Then," she said coldly, full of contempt, "go back to your whore."

She looked at him one last time. "And don’t think of me again."

Demian reached for Ivanka’s arm again, this time with more force—not to hurt her, but because he was afraid of losing control over a situation that was already on the brink of collapse.

"Don’t make me angry," he said lowly, his voice trembling on the edge between a threat and a plea he refused to acknowledge. "Obey."

Ivanka stopped walking.

But this time, she did not turn back with explosive anger. She turned slowly, as if every movement demanded what little strength she had left. Her eyes met Demian’s not with love, not with hope but with a deep, bone-weary exhaustion.

"Obey?" she repeated softly.

A small smile touched her lips, fragile and bitter."What would I even obey for, Demian?"

She freed her arm from his grip not roughly, but with a firmness that made one thing clear she was no longer standing in the same place she once had.

"When even the bond itself," she continued quietly, each word heavy, "already feels like it’s coming undone."

Demian opened his mouth, but Ivanka did not give him the chance.

"And don’t you dare blame me," her voice rose slightly, trembling. "Because I’m not the one who destroyed it."

She pointed to her own chest, then toward Demian."You did. You’re the one who did this."