The Girl Nobody Chooses
~ Maeve
I find my mate on my birthday.
And he walks away from me.
For one stupid second, I think my heart misunderstands what it feels.
I’m turning the corner beside the meeting hall with a basket of honey cakes balanced against my hip when I crash straight into someone.
“Careful cupcake,” an amused voice says automatically as the basket tilts sideways between us.
His hand catches my arm before the honey cakes hit the ground.
Heat slams through me so violently my breath catches.
Finn.
I recognize his voice immediately. The teasing nickname. The easy amusement.
Everything inside me stops.
His fingers tighten around my arm for one suspended second before loosening again, but the damage is already done. The bond tears through me hard enough to hurt.
- Mate.
Vexa’s voice crashes through my chest.
Finn goes still too.
I see the exact second he feels it.
Shock flashes across his face before he buries it beneath control, though not fast enough to hide the change in him completely.
His breathing shifts. His shoulders lock. His eyes hold mine for one endless heartbeat.
He knows.
My pulse pounds so loudly I can barely hear the village around us anymore.
For one foolish moment, hope rises anyway.
I don’t expect some dramatic declaration in the middle of the path.
But something. A look. A word. Anything that tells me I’m not standing here alone while fate splits my entire world open.
Because this is Finn.
Finn, who once walked me home carrying six bags of flour while complaining the entire time like I personally ruined his life.
Finn, who used to smile at me like I mattered even when nobody else did.
The same Finn who sat beside me by the river after Kim made me cry and talked about absolutely nothing until I laughed again.
The bond burns hot beneath my skin while he stares at me, and suddenly every strange moment from the past few months rearranges itself inside my head.
His eyes kept finding me lately. He tensed whenever Kim pushed too far. He watched me like he was trying to solve something he didn't understand.
Someone calls behind him.
“Finn, you coming?”
The moment shatters instantly.
Ezra, Max, and Thom stand several steps down the path watching us with open curiosity. Simon lingers slightly behind them, quieter than the others, his eyes narrowing like he notices something he shouldn’t.
Thom snorts softly. “You just forget how talking works?”
Normally Finn would answer with something easy. Something sharp enough to smooth the awkwardness away before it settled.
This time he doesn’t.
His jaw tightens.
“No, it’s nothing.”
The answer comes too quickly, sharp enough to shut the moment down before anyone looks too closely.
Vexa goes silent inside me.
Finn lets go of my arm immediately afterward and steps around me. He doesn’t apologize or offer an explanation.
His shoulder brushes mine as he passes, and the bond pulls after him so sharply my chest physically aches.
Then he keeps walking.
Like none of this happened.
His friends follow him, though Ezra glances back once with a confused frown.
“Dude,” he says slowly, “you’ve been weird around her lately.”
My breath catches because suddenly that makes sense too.
Finn doesn’t answer him.
Of course he doesn’t.
Simon looks at me one last time before following the others, and somehow that hurts worse than laughter would have.
I stand frozen in the middle of the path while my mate walks away from me like fate never happened.
He doesn’t look back.
The village keeps moving around me. People laugh near the training grounds. A child runs across the square. Someone calls for fresh bread near the market stalls. Life continues like mine didn’t just split open.
My birthday.
I almost laugh.
Happy birthday, Maeve. Your mate knows you exist, and that changes absolutely nothing.
The place on my arm where Finn touched me still burns against the cold air. The bond keeps reaching after him like it has no pride at all.
I hate it for that.
I hate myself more for understanding him anyway.
Because Finn isn’t supposed to be cruel. That is what hurts most. If it had been Thom, maybe I could have hated him cleanly. Finn was different.
At least, I thought he was.
- He felt us, Vexa whispers quietly.
- I know.
- He left.
My throat tightens painfully.
- He did.
That’s the part that keeps replaying.
He wasn’t confused.
He felt the bond and chose to walk away anyway.
I force my feet to move before somebody notices me standing here looking broken.
The delivery takes twice as long as it should because my hands won’t stop shaking. I straighten trays that are already straight, rearrange cloths that do not need rearranging, move baskets two inches left before putting them back again.
Fixing useless things is easier than thinking.
An older worker near the storage shelves glances at me carefully.
“You okay?”
I look at him.
He immediately looks uncomfortable for asking.
Of course. Everyone is brave until kindness becomes public.
“I’m fine,” I say.
The lie sounds normal enough to believe.
That helps.
By the time I return to the bakery, warmth hits me immediately. Sugar. Bread. Butter. Home.
Arthur looks up the second I step inside.
“You took longer than ten minutes.”
“I was admiring the meeting hall storage room.”
His eyebrows rise. “Was it beautiful?”
“Life-changing.”
Britt laughs softly behind the counter while dusting flour from her hands.
“Did the shelves sparkle?”
“Only a little.”
Arthur snorts, though his eyes stay on me too long. He notices too much.
Britt notices even faster. She walks closer and studies my face carefully.
“Did something happen?”
The gentleness in her voice almost destroys me.
I set the basket down before answering. “No.”
Arthur’s expression shifts slightly.
“You sure?”
I force a small smile. “Unless the bread started insulting me, yes.”
Britt doesn’t smile back immediately, and my chest tightens hard enough that I move before either of them can ask anything else. I start straightening the fresh rolls cooling beside the window even though they’re already perfectly lined up.
Inside the bakery, things make sense. Bread rises when it should. Ovens stay warm. Arthur complains while secretly caring too much, and Britt loves me without asking for anything in return.
Inside these walls, I’m almost just Maeve.
Even here, the bond refuses to stop aching.
Arthur watches me quietly for another moment before speaking again.
“You line those rolls up like someone’s going to judge them.”
“Maybe they should.”
“They’re bread.”
“That doesn’t mean they should look careless.”
Britt nudges my shoulder lightly.
“Let her be. If she wants the bread prettier than the customers, that’s her right.”
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it, small but real enough that both of them relax slightly.
“That’s not what I said,” I murmur.
“It’s what I heard,” Britt replies easily.
I keep working after that. Roll after roll. Cloth after cloth. Customer after customer.
And underneath every movement, the bond stays alive.
It keeps pulling toward him anyway.
By noon, I understand one thing very clearly.
Being unwanted isn't new to me.
But being unwanted by the one person fate created to want me feels different.
It's that before today...
he never would have.
