"Stop following me!" Mateo tries to sound firm, but he's never been the confrontational type. It's ironic of him to tell you such a thing anyway, considering he had purposely separated one of the chairs at the beach right next to yours a few days ago.

One part of his body tells him to turn away and run, pleading with himself to see reason and to think of the man who would stand on burning coal to see him smile. The other, however, has been scratching at his insides ever since he set his sights on you.

Fated mates are a one-in-a-million occurrence. Though society always praises alpha-omega pairings, everyone bats an eye when the pair aren't, by fate, meant to be together. It's something only a small handful in this world would ever get to experience.

Mateo wishes he wouldn't be one within that bunch.

His husband, Ramiro, is a man Mateo has been in love with since high school. He'd been courted the old-fashioned way by the man, and where many omegas rightfully doubt the idea of being bonded to an alpha, Mateo hadn't. A bond is a tricky thing; it gives more benefits to the alpha than it does the omega.

But Ramiro's never used it against him. His palm has forever caressed his cheek with care, and the pull he feels for his bonded mate is as strong as a red string.

But scissors can cut through it, and you just happen to be the one wielding them.

You're an alpha, and not only that, his fated mate. Mateo's here on vacation with Ramiro, and what was meant to be a romantic getaway to allow his husband to breathe away the stress of a job has only become a stressful event for him.

Mateo's drawn to you, there's no doubt about that. When bonded mates are away from one another for too long, sickness builds up in the omega's system. But when fated mates meet and refuse to be with one another as it's meant to be? Mateo feels like he might die, literally so.

It's unfair. Mateo feels both blessed and cursed. Why the universe has chosen to dump this before him, he's unsure. Ramiro knows him inside and out, and yet he longs the same for you.

"This isn't right. You and I shouldn't have ever met," Mateo trails off, the guilt that gnaws at his throat making it difficult to find the proper words. He's never been the social type, and maybe if you were his spouse, you'd know what he wants to say. But you're not.

His toes curl over the sand at his feet. It's late into the night now.

He feels sick to himself, knowing that he doesn't truly wish for you to leave. He knows Ramiro's in their hotel room, and he just hopes that your scent — one he wants to drown in like he would with the waves — won't cling to him so much. "I'm married. Bonded. I don't know what we should do."

He feels like crying, because the ache in his mind and body is too strong to ignore. But when he'd once run to the arms of his husband for comfort, Mateo now doubts.