Fear snaked along her spine, curling around her heart. What if he didn’t come back? Or worse. What if this was all just a figment of her broken mind?
Slowly, she wriggled until her toes brushed thick carpeting. The bed was tall, but if she braced herself, she might be able to stand. The door hadn’t sounded that far away. Six or seven steps? She’d crawled, inches at a time, to put distance between her and the dungeon. She could do this.
The blanket was another challenge, but after several tries, she had it wrapped around her in such a way that she had a free hand to hold out in front of her in case there were obstacles she couldn’t see.
At what was barely a shuffle, Sameen crept forward, and just as her legs started to shake, she found a wall. Then wood. A handle. It turned easily, but then the door swung inwards with such force, she stumbled back and collapsed in a heap.
“Fuck!” Peter landed on top of her, and she yelped, though it sounded more like a weak grunt than anything else. “Sameen. Did I hurt you?”
She’d expected anger, but instead, he rolled to the side, wrapped an arm around her waist, and then ran his nose along the curve of her neck. The intimate gesture made her heart beat a little faster, and she thought she could almost sense his worry.
“N-no. Scared...” How could she explain her ridiculous fears? No normal person would think a comfortable bed and a soft blanket were figments of their imagination.
“Shit, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” With a groan, he helped her to her feet. Had she hurt him? If so, she wasn’t sure she could forgive herself. “I shouldn’t have left you. I’m not...good with people.”
She hadn’t thought of herself as anything but the Thirteen’s conduit in so long, she couldn’t remember what it had been like to be Sameen. To be a person. Her throat tightened up, but Peter sounded so shattered, she wasn’t going to let a little discomfort stop her from talking now that she finallycould.
“You were good with me.”
He let out a snort as he helped her back to the bed. “If that were true, you’d never be scared again.” When he’d propped her against a pillow, he cupped her cheek. “You look worse than when I found you. What do you need? Food?”
Her stomach was hollow, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten.
“Caitlin brought up crackers and a chocolate bar. The good kind we can’t get back home.”
The wrapper crinkled before he pressed the treat into her hand.Oh, God.If she weren’t careful, she’d eat the whole thing and end up sick.
“Home?” she asked through a bite of cherries and creamy goodness she’d forgotten existed in the world.
“Seattle.” Peter sat close enough his warmth comforted her—and also made her realize just how good he smelled. Like the outdoors. Clean and fresh and not at all like magic. “Where’s your home?” he asked.
His voice took on an odd timber, like he didn’t want to know. Or maybe he was only concerned about her having to talk.
“I lived in...” The chocolate bar tumbled from her fingers, and her throat tightened, panic raising goosebumps on her arms. “I don’t know.”
Peter wrapped her in a gentle embrace. “It’s okay. You’ll remember. And...if you don’t, you’ll always have a home here. If you want. With me.”
* * *
Peter
Get a hold of yourself, asshole. She’s obviously been abused, chained up only God knows where for so long she doesn’t know which way is up, and you were about to tell her you’re her mate?
Either she’d already figured that out, or she hadn’t understood him, because she let him hold her until her breathing settled. He had so many questions, but if he kept pressing her for answers, he was afraid she’d shut down on him completely.
“Want more?” he asked, retrieving the chocolate.
Sameen shook her head, and shit. He could feel the sadness and despair emanating from her in waves.
“Talk to me. Or...would writing be easier? I don’t know what to do for you.” Tipping her head up, he waited for her to open her eyes. Even if she couldn’t see him, he wanted to know what had happened to blind her. Her irises were cloudy, the whites bloodshot. Gently, he skimmed his finger just under her right eye. “Didtheydo this?”
“Trapped me in my own body.” She spoke slowly. Carefully. Like she was testing each word. Whether to figure out if it would hurt or because she was afraid she’d say something wrong, he wasn’t sure. “Couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. But awake. Always awake.”
“Fuck. Sameen, how did you not go insane?”
Her huff might have been a laugh. “Think I did. Not blinking…is like your eyes are on fire.”
“Who did this? Which one of them?” His voice took on a hard, rough edge, his wolf demanding vengeance for the torture his mate had suffered. If it was his last act on earth, he’d disembowel the practitioner who caused her such pain.
