Page 51 of Kidnapped Plus-Size Mate

How can I hate him for kidnapping me when all he was doing was protecting his fated mate?

Chapter 17 - Stryker

Camilla clings to me as if her life depends on the warmth of my embrace, and I hold her as tightly as I possibly can.

In the dark throes of my subconscious mind, all I could think about was her as my inner dragon navigated through the pain in my body. It felt as if my inner dragon had set out on a journey where the destination was finding healing for the injuries I’d been subjected to at Rakon’s hands. Like an explorer, I found that healing nestled in the thought of my mate, which turned out to be the guiding light to help me come back home.

Flinching from the dull ache that lingers in my ribcage, Camilla hears me and gasps as she pulls back. Remorse flashes in her shimmering gold eyes, along with recognition when her gaze flits to the sheet that covers my body.

“I’m so sorry!” she whimpers, but I grab her wrist and pull her close again, shaking my head as I get to an upright seated position.

“Uh-uh,” I return as I pull her onto the bed to sit beside me. “Don’t apologize, Camilla. I’m healing. Look.” I throw the sheet off and begin ripping off the gauze that covers the injuries I’ve endured. Though the soft cotton is stained with my blood, once removed, my skin is almost as good as new, save for the metal stitches that binded my skin.

“That was quick…” Camilla gasps, reaching out a hand to trace my skin. The warmth of her touch startles me, but I tug on her wrist when she wants to retract her hand.

“Sorry. It just feels very new, that’s all.”

“Hm…” she hums as her fingertips whisper across my skin. “Your skin feels softer now…”

I lift my eyes just in time to catch her staring at me, her lips parted on an exhale while the honey-golden depths turn heady with desire. Slowly, I lean in, but Camilla seems to catch herself and reel in any sinful thoughts as she clears her throat and climbs off the bed.

Stifling my amusement, I hang my head to hide the uncontrollable smirk that lifts my lips while she pulls up a chair. When she takes a seat, I fold an arm behind my head and lean into the pillow.

“Perks of being a dragon shifter,” I chuckle lowly, gesturing at my healing ribcage. “Healing is not as gruesome as a human’s.”

“I thought you were gonna die…” she laments, keeping her eyes pinned to the floor.

“I can’t die, Camilla,” I explain. “I’m immortal.”

She slowly nods, nervously lifting her face to meet my eyes. “Olivia told me about that…” her voice falters off.

“What else did she tell you?” I ask before she drops her head again, forcing her to keep staring at me.

Camilla sighs. “This isn’t the right time for all of that, Stryker.”

“No,” I shake my head, turning over to face her fully. “It’s the perfect time. I might have all the time in the world, but I can’t waste any more time being in the dark. I need to know how you feel.”

A long pause stretches out like deafening silence as Camilla stares at me, her eyes glossed over with tears.

“I don’t hate you…” she finally admits, sending a sliver of relief up my spine as if my energy centers have been given life. “I just wish…” she gulps. “... I wish you didn’t trick me, that’s all.”

I nod as I take in her admission, turning to face the ceiling as if I’d find respite from the immensity of my guilt and shame.

“I wasn’t trying to trick you, Camilla,” I say earnestly. “Why do you think I was throwing hints at you, huh? Remember the painting by Domingo in the museum?”

“Y-yes…” she murmurs with a frown.

“I was going to tell you I was a dragon before I brought you to the island. I was trying to bring your attention to the painting to bring up the topic of dragons.”

“But…” she gulps then. “... What if I didn’t agree to all of this?”

I turn to her, pausing for a moment to consider her question. Back when I was doing my stakeouts before I was meant to meet her, and even after I received the go-ahead with my turn in the human mating process, I was so confident that she’d fall in love with me, that I didn’t stop to consider that she wouldn’t agree to any of it.

“I—I didn’t think you’d reject me once you—”

“Fell in love with you…” she interjects, turning her face to the side as a blush grows on her cheeks. “What if I didn’t?”

“Are you?” I ask too quickly, biting my tongue with regret. “Wait. You don’t need to answer that,” I say just as quickly, turning my face away with a wince.

---