Accepting My Twin Mates by Unwise Owl

Accepting My Twin Mates Chapter 89

CHAPTER 86 – HOW WERE YOU TRICKED?

Evgeniya

I had never seen eyes in the same shade as the molten honey irises that studied me. The man, behind what looked like plates of glass, leaned against a wall with his arms folded over his torso. For a moment, I found myself stunned, hypnotised by his eyes’ intensity. My gaze swept over his strangely pale alabaster skin and, all of a sudden, his eyes made sense.

He was a vampire.

The tell-tale opalescent colours swirled on his skin’s surface in their hues of muted blues, yellows, pinks, greens and purples; more colours than my eyes could pick out. They moved and blended with one another, giving the appearance of an imperceptible glow everywhere the shadows touched. Where the dimmed sunlight graced his skin, the colours vanished, leaving behind a pearl-like sheen. His hair fell in smooth jet-black waves with a reddish hue, reaching his chest. He looked younger than me, far younger than his baritone voice suggested, but vampires aged much differently than any other creature that inhabited our world. They could live up to 250 years and never seemed to age, looking perpetually in their twenties. I had only ever once seen another vampire, a woman, who lived in Ashen Star pack to our south in Oregon. She was supposed to be 150 years old and looked 18. Her own son, a vampire-wolf hybrid, and their pack’s Gamma, appeared older than her.

“Are you quite finished staring?” He chuckled, in an amused but warm tone and in an accent I didn’t quite recognise other than being European.

“Oh,” I felt my face flush. “Sorry.”

As my new world began to fully swirl into full focus, I took in my new surroundings. What I thought was a soft floor, I found, was a large submerged mattress into a polished wooden floor. The walls of my new prison were vastly different from the concrete cell I had woken up in the first time. These gleamed in a deep navy blue and embedded within them, seamlessly, were the odd black panel. In the corner sat a small wetroom-like area where the only privacy afforded was a short screen of frosted glass.

Sealing me within this rather comfy and modern prison was a wall of solid glass edged in holes cut out along the top. The only joint in the clear surface was what appeared to be a doorway with a hatchwork of silver in a narrow grid in the middle. There was no handle, but the metallic hinges looked heavy-duty; most likely the only mechanism that opened and shut the door.

I moved my head steadily to avoid aggravating the sharp pain in my temples, feeling as though I had been knocked about the head with a sledgehammer.

‘You’re not too wrong. That bastard hit us with the butt of that rifle,’ Evva groaned, her voice adding to the pound in my forehead.

Oh goddess, my father! He had almost died!

“Dad?!” I tried to push up from the plush surface, my stomach lurching at the movement.

This sensation was growing old and I hadn’t even started on morning sickness yet.

“Slowly,” the man’s deep voice, opposite, encouraged. “Judging by the dried blood from your temple, you sustained quite the blow.”

My hand trailed up to my hairline, pulling back with specks of crusted blood dusting my fingertips. The wound had closed, but the pain remained.

Using the wall to steady myself, I made my way slowly towards the glass. The cells opposite were staggered, allowing me to see into two of them. The man I had no name for yet, his cell was identical to mine, except for the mass of small trees growing in pots. From what I remembered in school, vampires needed to feed from the life force of living things, usually plants. Next door to his cell, in the dark corner on a similar-looking submerged bed, lay a slumped and bare figure, my father, his dark blond hair covering his face.

I tried to mind-link him but it bounced back at me, ringing like an ear-splitting echo. When I looked closer at the glass encasing me, I spotted the fine threads of silver incorporated. Merely pressing my hand to the surface, my skin heated at the proximity to the metal.

whimpered, hoping he’d move, just a little to signal

bad way when they dragged you in. Well, he, they dragged. You, they carried in quite delicately,” the vampire narrowed his eyes in an appraising look. “You must be valuable. Exactly what sort of wolf are

I’m telling you!” I

spicy as she is pretty. I knew it,” a second voice joined

his tousled black hair and pressed against the glass of his cell. A multitude of tattoos littered his deep golden skin along with a few scars on his bare

bebé (hey, baby),”

most inappropriate,” the

a woman this close in over four years. My memory was starting

lose an eye,” I snarled at what had to be a wolf, Diego. “I

to the vampire,

shook himself free. “Apologies. My name is Bastiaan, Bastiaan Dijkstra. And, believe me, Diego may sound vulgar and he acts it more so, but he isn’t quite the

he pretends to be,” Diego snickered, without a trace of

said, vulgar. You’ll

rubia (blondie)? How’d you end

my father would move. His back rose

ended up here for the same reasons. We all know what it’s like to wake up here for

“Either taken, tricked or sold, your story is not an isolated one.

I repeated, not liking his meaning.

know. The last to leave us occupied your father’s cell but a few months ago. Vee, he called

mumbled, deciding I could possibly trust these two individuals. “Do

small but sealed window behind me. At first, I thought the dim light may have been due to being early in the morning. Now I concentrated, I

my question. “Not even Bastiaan

with mountains…” Bastiaan shook his head. “…That’s as far as any here have

all?” I asked somewhat redundantly.

that showed off his elongated vampiric canines,

not have many in the Netherlands?” The only things I knew of the

abs, chica,” to push his point, Diego made a

in the testosterone rolling off of

a shame Catalina isn’t here,’ Evva shook her

I think he’d let

it is?” I looked around for

on the wall,” Bastiaan dipped his chin in the direction. “To

in the deep blue wall, over a strange black section of

treadmill under you,” Bastiaan must have guessed my confusion, flashing me a sympathetic smile. “They need a way to keep us fit. I recommend using it to keep you from losing your senses and going mad. The pipe