NICKOLAS
I stride out of the room where Amelia is, making my way to my office within the castle. As I approach the door, my legal advisor and best friend, Eric, intercepts me.
"What is it, Eric?" I inquire, entering my office with him following closely behind.
"Your mat..." Eric starts, but I cut him off abruptly, my jaw clenching as I ball my fists.
"Don't ever fucking call her that," I retort through gritted teeth, my tone lethal.
"Got it," he responds, lifting his hand in surrender.
"She is nothing but a fucking prisoner to me; always remember that," I add, walking towards the chair behind my desk.
"Got it again."
"What about her do you want to discuss?" I ask, taking my seat and retrieving my glasses from the desk drawer. Putting them on, I start sorting through the documents on my desk, searching for the most important ones. Being king has its perks, but working through documents isn't one of them.
"What are your plans for her?" Eric inquires, settling into a chair across from mine. I pause in the midst of sorting documents, lifting a dark brow at my best friend, wondering why he asked such a seemingly obvious question.
"I know you wish to use her to find her family, but because of what Ava has done, her mind can't be forcefully penetrated for now," Eric explains.
"I fucking know that," I snap at Eric, not directed anger towards him but rather at the mess Ava created. She ruined my plans, and I can't fucking do anything than express my disagreement with it. She's my freaking aunt, and the whole situation is completely fucked up.
"Hence my question because we also know torture isn't going to do the trick. Ava wasn't supposed to harm her physically, but she did. She asked Amelia during the torture, and despite being so close to death, Amelia didn't give up a single piece of information."
"I also fucking know that, Eric," I snap at him, irritation seeping into my tone. He keeps pointing out the obvious as if I'm oblivious to the fucked-up situation.
"Sorry if my questions are fucking pissing you off, but that's not my intention," he replies.
"Then what is it because if you don't have an idea of how I am going to make use of her, then I advise you to shut your fucking mouth."
"Got it, but before I shut my fucking mouth. How is she doing? Did the bath with Beatrice help?" he asks, prompting me to pause and study my best friend, curious about his unusual concern for Amelia.
"Do you fucking like her?" The question slips out before I can filter it. Eric raises a brow, staring at me as if I've lost my mind. I reciprocate with a raised brow, folding my arms and awaiting an explanation for his unexpected care for Amelia.
He looks away, his eyes shifting to the ground. "She reminds me of Veronica," he admits.
"Oh," I respond, my shoulders dropping as understanding dawns on me. That explains why he's treating Amelia with such kindness, even though she's the enemy.
"They would have been the same age," he adds, his gaze distant as he delves into his thoughts.
"Yeah," I say, my thoughts drifting to a time I wish never to remember at the mention of Veronica. Neither of us says a word after that for a good minute. Eric's mind was probably filled with thoughts of the past. I struggle to bury those thoughts as they crawl from the deepest hole in my mind, pushing to be revisited.
"I should be on my way. Those fucking bastards can't get anything done without me," Eric says, breaking the stifling silence in the room. A subtle sniffle escapes him as he puts on a brave smile before rising to his feet.
YOU ARE READING
Mated To The Enemy (Previously TVKWP)
Werewolf"I, Amelia Anderson, reject Nickolas Adams II as my mate." I have had enough. I don't know why I didn't even reject him the second I arrived here. What the heck was I stalling for? Nickolas and I don't have a single chance in heaven of being togethe...
