Accepting My Twin Mates Chapter 94

CHAPTER 91 – WHO IS THE RED-HAIRED VAMPIRE?

Evgeniya

My eyes felt a mix of sandpaper and glass, a dry irritation sealing my eyes shut and weighed down with bricks to keep them closed. Every muscle in my body throbbed and ached, especially my neck where it arced in a twist on the cool wooden floor.

For a moment, I wanted to pretend nothing had happened, however long ago it happened. I wanted to pretend the ghostly sensation of a slimy hand on my naked stomach was a figment of a nightmare. I wanted to pretend that the humiliation I had been forced to endure never truly occurred. I wanted to pretend I was at home, with Astennu and Badru and that soon, their warm palms would soothe the dull ache in my neck and body. All of my pretences would, unfortunately, leave me in a soul-splitting disappointment because I knew how the story ended; with me still curled on the floor feeling violated.

A single eye of mine cracked open, greeting the hues of pinks and oranges splattered across the sky from an early morning sunrise. How long had I passed out this time?

As I inched myself up to a sitting position, a tight band of tension lashed through my temples. I swiped a hand through my hair, teasing the threads that had stuck themselves to the side of my face. The strands felt dry, meaning I must have been out for hours for my thick long tresses to have air-dried.

Part of me felt like crawling into the soft bed near my feet, pulling the blankets over me and blocking out reality until it corrected itself. That would do me no favours.

‘It won’t do our little man any favours either,’ Evva’s groggy voice mumbled gravely.

My palm pressed to my currently flat stomach, blowing a sigh of relief that the small bond continued to tug despite the stress and the lack of care I hadn’t been able to show on my part.

Lifting my head and peering over my shoulder, the first images to greet my bleary vision were that of Bastiaan, shirtless and pulling his weight upwards without rest on the thick pipe above him. His glossy black hair was piled high in a looped bun and his muscular frame gleamed with sweat, accentuating the pastel colours swirling in the shadows of his skin. There were a few lines, scars, littering his torso that were devoid of colour, highlighting their existence.

But the sight that wrenched my heart was situated in the cell next door.

My father, kneeling at the glass with his head against its surface. From the direction his body was angled and the vague memories spiralling in my mind of him begging my name, he had fallen asleep where he was made to watch me implode and not be able to do a thing to comfort me.

‘He stayed there all night,’ my wolf whimpered, wanting to nose him awake.

“Dad?” My voice was barely above a whisper yet it captured the attention of both men without a repeat.

My father’s head snapped up at hearing my single small word uttered and I hadn’t seen him look worse than how he did in front of me. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot and heavily lined in black circles. His tanned skin had taken on a pallid appearance, highlighting the scar on the left side of his face. The blood from his claws still smeared the glass from his attempts to stop Marceau taking me away.

“Solnyshko…” his voice was hoarse from exhaustion, and not from simply waking up.

A string of questions hung on his tongue that he wanted to ask but couldn’t find the words. He thought the worst and while the vile act he feared had occurred hadn’t, I wasn’t sure how to tell him the truth either.

I opened my mouth to speak, but not a single word came out, each syllable clinging to the back of my throat and churning my empty stomach. I couldn’t say nothing happened because he had seen in painful detail that it had. I couldn’t tell him that I was fine because I wasn’t. I couldn’t alleviate his fears and say I wasn’t touched because that would be a lie.

“…It’s a boy… at least, I’m pretty sure it is,” I decided to stick with something positive, something I couldn’t share before, rubbing the flat of my stomach.

the entire cell block to hear. What did it matter anymore whether they knew

grandson?” His gruff voice softened to

the clear walls of his prison with

Bastiaan claimed my attention, his eye wincing harshly at my father’s snarl at the mention of

to hide it for as long

laugh and, like my father, I could tell he wanted

few lurid comments shouted from further down the rows, there was a distinct voice

you miss him when he’s absent,” Bastiaan guessed my unspoken question. “He was collected a few hours ago. The foolish pup may have done it

made good on his threat, that he would fight everyone’s matches

led away anywhere by myself again. The tip on my bare foot sent

stomach. I was beyond hungry at this point; the eggs and steak had been forgotten and gone to

I almost didn’t hear him. “Eat. If you try,

pup, you require it. And while I would never like to give these fiends any praise, they feed us

brioche greeted me on the plate and on the side, a mix of dry nuts

“Dad? What is it?”

the remnants of the buttery sauce. My father had only taken a few bites of his, staring down at his plate

made this… it was our

good as

“Not even close.”

Lucy?” Bastiaan tilted his

remains of his food on the plate and taking small bites. “She’s also my tiny best friend and she’s younger than me. We’re a strange family, so you being, like, my

opening his mouth to speak when a faint whirring came from the door hinges. The glass opened with a sweep to a single unobtrusive guard, quietly showing his armaments. It was that unsettling demeanour again of non-aggressive authority where

let out to the yard, that is all,” Bastiaan pulled a black long-sleeved shirt over his head, leaving his hair pulled back. “I suggest you take it, for it shall be the only fresh

was long forgotten, along with any care he had of the guard present. My impulses superseded any rationality of consequences. So when his

something metallic resounded behind us and my father’s hold tightened, picking me up under my

the hair stand up on the back of my

that won’t result in the young lady being harmed,” Bastiaan stood between us and the guard. “If the lycan doesn’t kill you, and that is a large ‘if’,

the guard thinking twice, begrudgingly stepping aside. I expected my father to put me down, but he refused, continuing to carry me as though I was

You can put me

under his chin, but I

males when protective mode is activated,’ Evva mumbled, still licking her wounded

cells, not wanting the painful reminder that I was the only she-wolf in an enclosed prison with a horde of wolf males that hadn’t seen a woman in years. But what caught my attention were the nine vampires and how each of them nodded in

through the previous day and led to the gate I suspected would usher us to the outside. Looking closer at the rows of footwear, I noticed each of the pigeonholes had

a blizzard,” Bastiaan zipped himself up and lifted two sets for us that must have been our designated gear. “It looks a rather

up on the balls of my feet to see over his shoulder, I saw the guard hand over a thick sherpa fleece blanket, rolling his eyes and turning to open the gate separating us from the fresh air. He may have acted blasé, but he gripped the butt of his rifle

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