Accepting My Twin Mates by Unwise Owl

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.

cell block to hear. What did it matter anymore whether

His gruff voice softened to the warm

the clear walls of his prison with his palms flat upon the

claimed my attention, his eye wincing harshly at

it for as long as possible and was hoping for more than a day. But, nothing ever seems to go the way I think

preaching to the choir in this establishment,” he gave me a self-deprecating half laugh and, like my father, I could tell he wanted to ask ‘did he touch you’,

further down the rows, there was

trying individual, yet you miss him when he’s absent,” Bastiaan guessed my unspoken question. “He was collected a few hours ago. The foolish

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

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

clawing at my stomach. I was beyond hungry at this point;

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

pup, you require it. And while I would

me on the plate and on the side, a mix of dry

“Dad? What is it?”

toast around the remnants of the buttery sauce. My father had only taken a few bites of his, staring down at his plate with such a raw expression,

this… it was our

at least as good as

“Not even close.”

Lucy?” Bastiaan

taking small bites. “She’s also my tiny

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 no threat was made, but the ultimatum was clear. I noticed the cell doors opposite were open, too, as I inched my way

his head, leaving his hair pulled back. “I suggest

was standing before the vampire had finished speaking and what remained of his meal was long forgotten, along with any care he had of the guard present. My impulses superseded any rationality of consequences. So when his arms collided around me in the warm embrace only a parent could give, my

metallic resounded behind us and my father’s

merzkiye volki (filthy wolves) try to take my daughter from me or touch her again,” his snarl made the hair stand up on the back of my

action you can take 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’, we both

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

You can put

under his chin, but I heard the small sniffle he tried

protective mode is

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 reverence to Bastiaan; especially the red-haired one with deep orange eyes that I had seen in the clinic. The wounds across his chest

I suspected would usher us to the outside. Looking closer at the rows of footwear, I noticed each of the pigeonholes had a number on

Bastiaan zipped himself up and lifted two sets for us that must have been our designated gear. “It

frame. Flexing up on the balls of my feet to see over his shoulder, I saw the guard hand over a thick sherpa fleece blanket, rolling