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I become aware that I've woken up, but I keep my eyes closed. I smile to myself and stretch my arms above my head.

I'm a little sore between my legs, but it's nothing too painful. Besides, last night was definitely worth it.

I roll over to greet my mate, but find the space next to me empty. I stretch my hand out and frown as I feel how cold his side of the bed is. He's been gone for a while.

Sitting up, I strain my ears to see if I can hear him in the bathroom. I slide my feet off the side of the bed and stand up. The door to the bathroom is closed. I knock on it and then open it.

The bathroom is empty.

I spin around, no quite understanding what is happening. His clothes are gone from the chair by the desk. He's left.

Maybe he's gone to get breakfast to be cute?

Why not just call room service?

I look around the room, trying to find any clues as to what has happened. Desperately, I search for answers.

I find his mask on the floor by his side of the bed. It's snapped in half.

I'm so confused.

Why has he left me?

We didn't even get the chance to exchange numbers. All I know is his first name. I know nothing else about him.

I take a shower to pass time, hoping against hope that, maybe, he will come in any minute with breakfast or treats or some other good excuse.

As I wash my hair, I imagine scenarios where he rushes in, apologising that he got an emergency phone call and had to deal with something.

But none of the scenarios come true. I'm dried, changed and sitting on the bed half an hour later. My phone has no messages from anyone but my mother, congratulating me on finding my mate.

I'd sent her a text in bed last night, excitedly telling her that I was spending the night with my mate in the hotel.

I feel silly and hurt. I tell myself not to be hurt yet, don't think irrationally. There could be a perfectly logical reason that he isn't here. Lots of things might have happened. I shouldn't assume before I know what really went on.

Feeling dejected, I lock up the room and return to the foyer. There are other mates in the foyer, checking out. They all have their arms around each other and loved up expressions.

That should be me.

Where is my mate?

'I'd like to check out of room 202, please.'

The receptionist takes the key from me and taps away on the keyboard.

'There's a message for you, Miss Longman.'

He hands over a folded piece of paper. I thank him and walk over to the wall, out of the way of the queueing people behind me.

I open the piece of paper and my heart sinks.

I'm sorry.

What is he sorry for? Taking my virginity? Leaving me in the night? Making me wake up alone? Not giving me an explanation? Mating but not marking me?

So many questions.

If anything, this message has just annoyed me further. Why not give me more an explanation? What made him think that two shitty words would be satisfactory?

Angry and hurt, I catch a taxi home. It costs a bomb, but I don't care. I don't want my parents to pick me up. They would spend the whole time questioning me, which would just make me feel worse about the whole thing.

Thankfully, my parents are out when I get home. I take a shower and change into normal clothes. Afterwards, I FaceTime Tilly.

It physically hurts me to sit and smile and listen to her tell me about her incredible evening with her mate. Brandon, her mate, sits beside her with an equally wide smile. I congratulate them and dread the moment when the spotlight turns on me.

'So? How was your night?' Tilly asks excitedly.

I proceed to explain how incredible my night was -Brandon has stepped out of the room and I feel comfortable discussing the loss of my virginity- and how I was ditched this morning. I even hold up the shitty note to the webcam.

Tilly stares at me with her eyes wide and her mouth open. For a moment or two, I think that the screen is frozen.

'Sorry,' she says and shakes her head. 'I was just trying to work out who the fuck he thinks he is. How the hell does he think that is acceptable?!'

I nod in agreement. I can't help it, tears fall down my face. Talking about it has set me off and I angrily wipe them away.

'Oh, honey,' Tilly says sympathetically. 'I wish I could hug you. What an absolute twat. He can't get away with this! What is his name? I want to give him a piece of my mind.'

I love my best friend for being so protective of me.

'All I know is that his name is Joab. I don't know anything else about him.'

Tilly frowns. 'Damn it. We must be able to find who he is. Maybe we could contact the hotel? See if they had a guest list or something?'

I think about it and decide to share the other piece of information I have on him.

'He had red eyes. I thought he might be part of the Royal guard.'

Tilly's face lights up. 'Definitely! Good idea. Right, my cousin is on the guard, I bet he can get us access to the barracks.'

I frown and consider this. I'm not sure it's a good idea.

'Won't that look a bit desperate? Tracking him down?'

Tilly snorts. 'Desperate? No fricking way. We're not there to beg for him to be with you. We're there to let him know what a prick he is and that he can't get away with a fuck and chuck. This is bullshit.'

This is one of the many reasons why I love Tilly. I wouldn't have the ovaries to do something like this myself, I need my bestie to egg me on.

Tilly contacts her cousin and gets him to agree to let us in on Monday. I have to wait almost twenty-four hours, and it's torture.

I have to re-live the whole experience when my parents come home. They are fuming, just as Tilly was. They want to speak to him themselves, but I can't imagine anything more embarrassing than my parents storming up to my mate and telling him off for ditching me.

I just want to see him, find out why he ditched me, call him an asshole and reject him, then leave. If I focus on my anger, I can block out the shattering sense of rejection that I am feeling.

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Monday morning, Tilly and I arrive at the barracks. She insisted on choosing my outfit and giving me a makeover. I'm almost as glammed up as I was at the ball. She's plaited my hair beautifully and made me wear a flattering but casual dress.

'He's going to regret ever leaving you,' she says proudly when we step through the barbed gates.

Her cousin greets us and takes us through the entrance building. We're given clearance, thanks to his status.

I tell him that my mate's name is Joab and he tells us that he doesn't know him. There are three thousand guards on these barracks, they all work for the royal family. It's no surprise that he doesn't know him.

'I guess all we can do is I can give you a tour, and you can try and catch his scent or see if you notice him,' her cousin suggests. 'It's worth a shot, right?'

We follow him around the barracks whilst he points out different buildings and training centres, trying to keep us interested. I take deep breaths, feeling lightheaded with all of the heavy breathing I'm doing.

It is only when we reach the second part of the barracks that I catch his scent. It is easier to catch now that I am familiar with him. I can spot it much more easily.

Tilly's cousin lets us into the dorms so that I can track down his bunk. By tracking that down, we will be able to know his full name and title.

I follow his scent to where it is strongest, in the corner of the room. He has his own bed, not bunks like the rest of them. I take it that means he is higher up than the rest of the lodgers in this dorm.

My heart stops when I read the gold name plaque on his headboard.

General Joab Grafton.

General.

I'm no army brat, but I know that Generals are not exactly on the lower ranking side of the hierarchy.

'He's a general?' I question aloud.

Tilly's cousins eyes widen in surprise.

'Well, shit,' he says. 'That's not good. I won't be joining in the man-shaming or I could lose my job, I'm only a major. He'll be out training the troops. Come on.'

He leads us outside and across the barracks. I can hear the shouting before we reach the field. As we round the corner of the building, we spot the troops.

Royal guards are lined in rows across the field. They are in their uniform; black gear with the royal crest on their backs and a black helmet.

Despite many misconceptions, the only way to kill a vampire is to cut off their heads. The guards wear helmets because our heads are our most vulnerable part of the body.

'This is where I leave you,' Tilly's cousin announces. 'Good luck with your shouting and let yourselves out, okay?'

'Thank you!' I call after him.

Tilly reaches for my hand, squeezes it and nods.

'Let's do this.'

We start walking over to the general and his troops.

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