An Unacceptable Mate

Chapter Twenty Seven

My head rolled, wrists chained up in icy metal. I'd been here before. The first time I'd encountered Inerra and those three maids of Acera's.

Darkness ate at the sides of the light when I opened my eyes to brightness. Where was I? Who was talking?

    "I need to tell you something."

Acera?

  "Tell me."

I'd dreamt about this before.

    "I...I'm in love with..."

The brightness disappeared, replaced with emptiness. Now I could open my eyes and see nothing but darkness and the faint outline of a figure.

    "When you turned around to attack me, I was filled with anguish. You wanted to harm me, it was unbearable."

My breath caught. I remembered that conversation on the beach in Spain. He'd convinced me so well that he had been protecting me my entire life and wanted to continue to do so for the rest of it. Now I wasn't so sure.

    "I didn't want to be the source of your misery," he admitted.

All of a sudden, I could feel cool hands wrapping around mine. My skin started to vibrate and I choked on a surprised sob. I missed this; his unique touch.

    "I swear I won't let them touch you, Charlie. For your family's sake, for mine and for yours."

All of these promises and truths that I had utterly believed at the time seemed like vicious lies now. If he really wanted to protect me, he'd be looking for me right now. But he wasn't. He was becoming the leader of the threat.

Where was the logic in that?

    "I love you, Charlie," someone whispered so gently it might not have been whispered at all. Whether it had or hadn't, just the idea of it stopped my heart.

The vision – dream – memory – whatever it was, faded as I heaved a trembling exhale.

I awoke to a serious conversation – one I did not expect when I rose after such a night.

    "The ceremony is this evening. He's not changed his mind," Patria informed, worry coating her tone.

  "I'm aware of that. We're going. Now. Cancel all other meetings. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night," Inerra murmured ominously.

I started to sit up, preparing myself for a powerful headache that'd probably brings tears to my eyes. Nothing. Not even a slight migraine. I exhaled shakily. Had I slept through the hangover? My eyes found the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly eight. There was no way I slept through a hangover. I'd drifted off around three. I was no expert, but five hours was not sufficient enough to cure a hangover after those drinks I'd consumed.

I faintly noted Patria and Inerra muttering under their breaths about something as I glanced down at myself, finding that I was in one of his grey t-shirts. My brows plucked together. I didn't put this on. We'd fallen asleep in each other's arms one hundred percent naked.

The door clicked shut, bringing my puzzled gaze up to Inerra who was tossing clothes into a suitcase. We were leaving again, weren't we? But that wasn't the source of my newly fledged misery. Surely after making love with someone, you'd expect them to be lying with you when you woke up? Expect them to at least smile at you after such a momentous occasion?