Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Casting a sidelong glance towards the long metal table the others were huddled around, I tried to focus on what was being discussed. I wanted to join them, but I remained seated, not trusting myself to go over and speak just yet. Dion sat at the opposite end of the sofa; his gaze fixed on some distant point in the room. His mind seemed consumed by chaotic thoughts. He twirled his glasses between his tattooed fingers with a repetitive motion. I felt compelled to say something to him, but I couldn't find the right words.
Ever since we arrived and he realized that his girlfriend wasn't with us, he had been like this. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that Morrigan was most likely gone forever, and it was all because of the very people who had trapped us inside this warehouse. But Dion was extremely intelligent; I'm sure he had figured out by now that she was no longer with us, even if he didn't know the whole truth. All I could do was offer my silent sympathy for his loss.
My thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and fear, but they came to a sudden halt as a bottle of water materialized in front of me. The abruptness of the gesture startled me.
“Take this.”
I tried to focus on his deep voice, but the fluttering in my stomach made it difficult. I turned my head to look at him and took in his lean, muscular body and sharp cheekbones before meeting his gaze.
I couldn't hold his stare for long; instead, I lowered my eyes to the bottle of water he was offering. This was now the third one he had brought to me since Mel was taken care of. The first came with some sort of granola mix when I collapsed onto this couch, mentally and physically exhausted. The second came when I woke up from a nap a few hours ago. I drank them without hesitation, trusting that Kyrous wouldn't give me anything unsafe.
The trunk of the now-dismantled car had been a modest treasury of necessities--water, simple foods, and a first aid kit, all stashed away with foresight and meticulous planning behind our ordeal. Melantha being impaled by an arrow was likely an unforeseen variable.
“Where did you guys get all of this?”
“Doesn’t matter. If it’s going from my hands to yours, it’s safe.”
A faint smile played on my lips at his directness. He had a way of oscillating between concise words and profound silence, a hallmark uniquely his own that communicated everything that needed to be said.
“Thank you,” I said softly, reaching for the bottle. I was careful not to let his fingers touch mine, fearing that would be enough to reveal all my secrets.
He stayed close by, observing me intently. I understood that he wanted to make sure I drank the water. His silent and serious demeanor was both reassuring and unsettling. Even before regaining some of my memories, his presence had been a constant. At the Sanctuaries we slept in the same bed, sharing other moments behind closed doors.
I usually had a strict rule about keeping men at arm's length, but with him, it was different.
From the beginning of this twisted performance, I felt like I had already known him on some level. There was an unexplainable familiarity that went beyond superficial attraction. His captivating eyes drew me in, becoming a source of conflict within myself. They were a striking, deep shade of amber that almost appeared black in certain lighting. His dark hair was styled with length on top and trimmed closely at the sides.
Each tattoo that adorned his knuckles, traced up his arms, and wrapped around his neck seemed to have its own story to tell. Whenever I gazed upon him, I couldn't help but feel giddy like a schoolgirl with euphoria. And then there were the more intense desires that would surge to the surface when he was near or when we were alone together. I struggled to ignore these desires, but it was a difficult task, and I hadn't been very successful.
He seemed to have an uncanny ability to persuade me, and I wasn't sure if I truly didn't want to give in or if he just knew how to manipulate me.
Since I had begun to remember him, his prolonged silence was maddening.
Did he know I knew?
It seemed impossible for him not to. He never missed a beat, no matter how insignificant the details were. Part of me considered the possibility that he had lost those memories as well, but deep down I knew I was being naive. While I couldn't pinpoint any specific events between us since I arrived here, there were small hints that made it clear he remembered everything. He and his friends acting as if we’d all just met on that shuttle bus, was slowly beginning to make sense.