Page 59 of Kidnapped Plus-Size Mate

Camilla frowns. “What do you mean?” She sighs discontentedly, slamming the book shut and turning all her attention to me. “I don’t understand what any of this means.”

I make sure the door is closed behind me before crossing the bedroom and approaching her.

Of course, I startled her when I burst in and said, “I know why Rakon was after you!”. The adrenaline rushing through my veins and igniting a certain thrill is to blame for that.

Right now, all that matters is easing Camilla’s worries as I make my way to her, taking a seat beside her and folding her hand on my lap.

She has no idea where I’m going with this, and I have to tread carefully. I don’t want to startle her, and seeing the look of pure confusion widening her eyes confirms what I already know.

Camilla isn’t aware of who she really is.

“Rakon was spotted consorting with witches,” I begin gently. “I think he’s trying to take over his dragon clan, but he obviously needs help. Mystical help.”

Camilla’s eyes flicker to the book on the side. “Why would he have neededmyhelp, then?”

I stare deeply into Camilla’s eyes, hoping that she might be able to see the conviction written in mine. Whatever her dreams mean, I will stand by her side.

As her protector.

“Maybe it’s time to visit your grandmother in the mortal world,” I offer.

Her eyes light up with anticipation. “Abuela?” she exclaims delightedly. “Are you serious?!”

I nod with a light chuckle. “I have no reason to keep you away from her anymore.” I reach out to touch her cheek fondly. “You’re not a prisoner, Cami.”

She coils back, lifting a skeptical brow. “Are you letting me go?”

“Letting you go?” I chuckle more deeply now as I throw an arm over her shoulders and draw her into my embrace, pressing a firm, possessive kiss on her forehead. “Never. I’m never letting you go.”

Chapter 20 - Camilla

“Ready to leave?” Stryker asks when he enters the bedroom.

Hisbedroom, with its olive-green walls and elegant trimmings of beige. We haven’t really spoken much about what the future holds for us now that he’s dropped the rather grumpy and tough outer shell and returned to his former self.

The man I met in the museum, who effortlessly charmed his way into my life. It’s nice to finally have him back, even if the doubts that show up in my mind keep me restless.

On the nights when I refuse to allow sleep to come, lest I dream about those dark figures, Stryker stays up with me and puts on my favorite show on the flatscreen he brought in the other day. Steadily, we’ve been learning more about each other, opening up about the things we would usually hide from the rest of the world. I, for one, have changed drastically.

I see it every time

Our bodies, on the other hand, have become well acquainted, the intimacy we share so strong, that I can’t help but wonder if that’s all this is.

Mere sexual attraction, an unwelcomed voice chimes in my head, but I brush it aside and choose not to pay it any attention.

Besides, it’s not like I’m complaining. Thanks to our passionate trysts, Stryker has managed to awaken something rabid inside me, purely feminine and so confident in my own skin. I’ve never felt as liberated as I do when I’m twisted in the sheets.

I turn to him with a smile and a brisk nod, the excitement bubbling inside me, compelling me to fling my arms around his neck and press a chaste kiss of gratitude on his lips.

I could barely contain my excitement when he offered to take me to my grandmother the other night, and I’ve obviously thanked him with bodily pleasures.

It’s been almost three weeks, and I can only imagine how worried she must be. Even though she’d chosen to live by herself in the retirement home, Abuela has always fussed over me. I always believed that the only reason she insisted that she didn’t live with me once I found a steady job was to cultivate my independence.

Confidence I’m beginning to understand ever since I arrived on Aurora Island. It might not look like the confidence I wear like a second skin when Stryker has me flustered with the gentle motions of his capable hands, but God knows I’ve never been more comfortable and accepting of myself.

“I’m ready to go,” I concede as I step back and gaze into the eyes that seem to reflect my soul. With a brisk nod, Stryker lifts my bag off the bed and keeps his arm protectively slinked over my shoulders.

“Wait!! I almost forgot!” I gasp with realization, scampering out from under his arm and grabbing the book off the sofa. “The Grimoire!” I head back to him and shove the book into my bag.

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