Page 11 of Kidnapped Rejected Mate
She smells the same. Something light and almost minty, mixed with a cooler, bolder note, like lavender. She smells like peace.
Tara’s growls start to penetrate the extinguisher, and I know it’s not going to take her long to get out from under it. Not with how she was able to nearly burn Felix clean through.
With Aurela in my arms, I turn and move as fast as I can out of the clearing. She’s bigger than she was in high school, but still easy for me to carry, and I breathe hard as I hurry through the woods, turning my back to shield her from the melting heat of the fire, the flames that seem to reach toward her like bony, wanting fingers.
There’s only one place I can think to take her. A place where Xeran and the rest of them won’t be able to find us.
So I push through the flames and the brush, heading in that direction as fast as I can.
Chapter 6 - Aurela
When I wake up, the first thing I see is Soren sitting in a chair, his eyes intent on me. I blink, settling back down into my mind, and realizing that I’m most certainly dead.
I was in the forest with Tara, the flames all around me. There’s no way that I’m not dead right now. Especially considering the fact that Soren is here. This is the kind of thing I’ve dreamed about every night since the last time I saw him.
So, I believe that I’m dead.
That is, until I try to lift my arm and find it trapped, metal clanking loudly against whatever I’m attached to. The physical sensation is jarring, and I turn my head to look. My muscles are sore, like I’ve been in this same position for far too long. Finally, I spot a set ofhandcuffsaround my wrists, looped through the bed, keeping me in this position.
I look back at Soren, feeling panic rise up in my body. I know he would never hurt me, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling trapped.
“What—” I try, but my voice is too hoarse to speak, either from Tara taking all my strength or from the daemon smoke forcing its way into my lungs. “Wha—”
Soren rises slowly from his chair, keeping his gaze on me as he moves across the room. He’s looking at me like I’m a bomb, about to go off at any moment. Moving methodically, he opens one of the cabinets, pulls out a metal camping mug, and fills it with water before crossing the room and coming back to me, holding it carefully so none of it sloshes out.
It’s painful to look at him. To think of that last conversation with him.
When he told me he didn’t want to be with me.
Forcing my mind out of the past, I look around, taking in my surroundings instead. We’re in what looks like some sort of one-room cabin. There’s a small wood-fire oven in the corner, a little love seat across from it. There’s a sparse kitchen with an old-fashioned refrigerator and some cooking space, and a little window with red curtains above the counter, but they’re drawn tight, so I can’t see out of them. If there’s a front door, it must be somewhere behind me.
I’m in a small bed, arms bound over my head, tied to the wooden headboard behind me.
Soren leans down, bringing the cup to my lips. He watches me carefully as I drink, the water cooling and stinging at once on my sore throat, which must be raw from the smoke and the heat. If I could get my hands out of the handcuffs, I might be able to use my healing magic to make it feel better.
But the look on Soren’s face tells me there’s not an ounce of him considering letting me out of them.
When I’ve finished drinking the water, he sets the cup on the nightstand. Giving me a blank look with a hard stare, he asks, “Did you start the fire last night?”
The question hits me right in the middle of the chest, knocking the breath out of me when it’s already hard for me to breathe.
He thinks I may have started the fire last night.Last night…my eyes dart to the windows, and I see it’s dark. Either he’s covered them with something, or I’ve already been out for a full day. I tug against my handcuffs a bit and feel how tightly they’re tethered to the bed. Soren tracks every little movement.
His gaze makes my skin prickle. My body is already reacting to the feeling of being near him, my core growing tighter, heat starting to pool between my legs.
My mind pulls me away from that line of thought, reminding me of Soren’s veiled accusation. He actually thinks I’m capable of something like that.
“Aurela,” he practically growls, and I swallow at the sound of my name on his lips, trying not to show how much it affects me. He stands, starting to pace beside the bed. “Answer me—did you start that fire?”
I bite my bottom lip, then rasp, “Can I have more water?”
His nose twitches, and he gives me a long look, but he turns with a sigh, grabbing the cup and taking it back over to the sink.
I don’t have much time, so I move quickly, heating my hands up as much as I can with the magic. Instantly, the heated metal burns my skin, and I pull back, cooling it off. Melting the cuffs was a bad idea to start.
Instead of trying to melt them off, I close my eyes and thinkintothe handcuffs, using my brain to map out the interior, finding the pins and pushing on them until there’s a tinyclick, and they come loose.
That, unfortunately, gets Soren’s attention, and he whips around from his spot at the kitchen sink, the water from the cup splashing over the kitchen counter as he turns toward me, seeming to know right away what I’m doing.
