Touch: Book 1 of the Savage Bond Series

Chapter 29| The Monster Within

"Aaron."

I'd lost all warmth at the sight of him, for it had been so long I had forgotten the intimate details of his features.

The chiseled jaw I once ran my fingers along, the piercing cerulean orbs that always seemed to unnerve me no matter how hard I tried.

The flesh of his lips, an odd thing to pay such reverence to, but I always loved how the ridges of his lips would stretch when he'd smile.

In two years, I'd forgotten so much, how could I have forgotten him? My insides were riddled with guilt at the thought.

"How is this possible?" I whispered to myself, why would she send me here? Was her goal, to open old wounds? Wait, where did she send me? I thought to myself as I took in my surroundings. In my distracted state, I failed to see that Aaron had advanced towards me.

"Don't cry, Solina, you'll soon forget it all happened," he said as he wiped the rogue tear from my cheek.

"Amina," I said as I took a step away from him, "My name is, Amina, you know that Aaron."

He clapped with glee, "Willful amnesia, I take it? Normally, such insubordination would merit swift reprimand, but I wonder," he paused stroking his chin, marveling at me with excitement, "Have you truly forgotten?"

"Forgotten what?"

"Normally we have to drug you after you've gone through a trial, too much crying, too much rage," he said annoyed, but I was too concerned with the fact that I was being drugged.

"I don't understand, why would you-"
He waved his hand ignoring my confusion-filled panic, "It would seem you have forgotten the events that have recently transpired. I wonder, is it because you don't care, or is it because your mind's blocking out the trauma?"

He questioned more to himself than he did to me, and with a shrug, he continued, "Only one way to test the theory I'm afraid." He turned around and made for the exit, giving the bolted door two knocks in quick cessation before the guard opened the door.

"Come along, Amina."

I followed him down the poorly lit corridor, my mind filled with questions I needed answered.

"What is this place, Aaron?"

The only response was the echo of his boots against the linoleum floors.

With each step, apprehension filled my chest, "Aaron," my voice trembled, I was growing desperate, "Please, why was I in a cell?"

We turned the corner and my lips ceased to move. Before I stood large double doors painted in black. Encrusted in silver on the door was a symbol I recognized all too well.

The only memento I kept to remember him by, I looked down to my wrist to find the bracelet still clasped to my wrist.

I had always glanced at the bracelet, but never took the time to observe the intricate details. In passing it always looked like a centaur with a saber crossed at the midpoint, but upon closer inspection, the centaur seemed to be impaled by the saber.

"Aaron, what is this?"

"Read for yourself, my love."

Nothing about the sentiment was comforting, I found it condescending, and my lack of comfort grew at the thought. The Aaron I remember was nothing like the man who stood before me.

Waiting for me to read the words, I stepped up to the door to get a better look. Engraved around the insignia was the motto written in Latin.

"Pudiciam."
Purity