CHAPTER 41: NO ONE CAN SEE HIM BUT HER

(Amaia)

I need to ask him further questions to draw a conclusion.

"But I don’t feel the mate bond. Isn’t it always two-way?" I reluctantly ask, watching his shadows shift from his neck towards his arms and hands as if trying to slide down but unable to. He seems to be holding onto them.

"I am cursed. The person who put me here placed a curse on me a long time ago. That’s why people can’t see me. I am surprised you can, maybe it’s because you are my mate." His tense body doesn’t relax, and he watches me wearily as if afraid of hurting me.

But underneath all that, there is hidden such vulnerability, like a child holds. And a visceral fear. I don’t know who is responsible but it’s clear he is in pain.

Cursed? Like me? Could it be possible?

I am the living example of what happens when one is cursed and people can’t see you or feel you for who you are.

"Why are you here? What crime did you commit?" I ask next, keeping my gaze intact with him, letting him know I wasn’t afraid.

A pained smile he offers. "The crime of my existence."

His words impale my heart like icicles. Why did it hurt so deeply, like I understand him at some nuclear level, like I can relate to that.

Being a Fae means a death sentence in this world, and here is this man experiencing something I have done my whole life, too.

"I know you don’t believe me. No one will but it’s only the truth. You are the first person I have spoken to in years apart from my tormentor." Such sorrows lace his face that my heart cracks like the soil does in dry lands without rain.

My magic fills my veins and pushes with all its force at my fingertips to spill out and rush to him, to hug him to comfort him.

Without thinking, I lean closer to him, extending both my hands, and my magic hurls me forward until my hands cradle his cold face.

The magic eases, and a calmness descends as our skins touch.

If it’s a test from Alnilam then I have failed.

His eyes widen, and his lips part at my action. He watches me with unguarded and raw emotions, flickering in his eyes and face.

"I don’t know what I am to you but you won’t be alone from today onwards. I will do whatever is in my hands to free you."

Stunned, he blinks at me. His eyes are such rich vermilion, the light of the lantern is reflected in them, giving the vibe of being on fire. They pull me in and I am ready to plunge into them.

His legs part and his chained arms move, coiling around my waist, and only then do I realise that I am not even wearing a shirt. Just my uniform trousers and the sports bra. My pendant dangles forward. So much of my skin is exposed and yet I don’t fear him or cringe from his touch.

His hands are cold but gentle, there is no intent to hurt. Only a heartbeat away we pause.

"You mean that?" He asks, gently and yet there is a sense of doubt in his voice.

"Yes!" I answer honestly. My mates don’t care about me for now but here this man is holding me with such affection.

"Drink, I know you are hungry." I press the wrist of my right hand onto his lips. His nostrils flare, and he draws a deep inhale.

Hesitation clouds his greedy eyes but I don’t remove my wrist.

"I promised you. Go ahead." His hands squeeze my waist as he carefully settles me onto his right leg. It’s all stiff muscles but not uncomfortable. The thick mist-like air has us surrounded, and I don’t even feel hot anymore.

He grabs my wrist without hurting me while his hungry gaze never leaves mine.

"It will hurt a bit," he says, gawking at my face for a reaction or fear. I know vampires can smell fear and if his claim of me being his mate is true, I know he can smell more than my fear.

"It doesn’t matter," I calmly answer but my heartbeat does escalate, not from terror at being in the arms of a vampire but from the exhilaration of it, of the situation. Of letting a vampire feed on my blood.

He smiles at me, and for the first time, it’s not wounded, it’s just beautiful. His mouth opens and canines extend, plunging into the bulging vein of my wrist.

It’s like being pricked by thick needles, a searing pain emerges but it dies as quickly as it has come. The feeling of his soft lips against my skin follows making my breath come out in a soft pant. His other hand cups my waist, keeping me steady. The coldness of it against my skin, the gentleness with which he holds me, has my mind going haywire.

"Haw!" I let out a restless sigh. His lips caress my skin as he continues to feed. My eyes watch how restlessly the shadowy tattoos move against his skin as if desperate to escape.

A fire ignites deep in my belly, my magic churns inside, desperate to explode again. It’s raw, untamed. I don’t have much experience with it. My back arches as I desperately try to control it, hoping my pendant won’t betray me again.

Cold fingers caress my exposed skin.

And then I hear steps, loud against the stone floor. Someone is coming.

He halts and pulls his fangs out. Placing his thumb on the punctured wound he presses as his lust-filled eyes find my troubled ones.

"Relax, whoever it is can’t see me." Quietly, he places me down on the floor beside him and I hear Yanna.

"Amaia! I brought you food and water." Her steps grow closer and she appears outside the cell, holding a lantern and a plate.

My breath hitches as I observe her reaction. He holds me by the waist, his lips hovering just above my shoulder.

"There you are. Take your food, you won’t be getting any more today and speed up with cleaning. You have only cleaned one cell so far and you are sitting in the dirtiest one." She wrinkles her nose as if feeling disgusted by the place but shows no surprise.

His nose traces my neck and my body heats up from his actions and proximity.

"Yeah, thanks. I thought I heard something, so I was just checking," I deliberately say, and she scowls, placing the plate down.

"There is no one here, girl. Must be the wind. Eat your food," she emphasises again before turning away to leave.

I relax, my body going lax in his hold.

Her footsteps soon fade and his murmur comes like the winds of a frozen land.

"I told you. Do you believe me now, Amaia?" My name slips out of his mouth like a velvety whisper and I turn my head to watch this enigmatic man.

"It’s time you tell me yours."

He smiles, such a mysterious and breathtakingly beautiful smile.

"Rigel!"