(Amaia)

(Bonus Chapter, especially for @Butterfliez since she asked so nicely. Enjoy.)

Saiph gives me a brief hug, but the way he stares at me and how warm his touch is reveal his inner joy at finding that I recognise the mate bond between us.

My brother was right, he knew and informed me, letting me know that I have five mates.

The mindlink between the twins and me opens as they sense my heightened distress and emotions.

"Amaia! Is everything alright? We are coming to you."

No, I don’t want them here and see Rigel in such a state.

"I am with Rigel and Saiph at the moment. You guys stay put, I will come to you," I tell them through the mindlink and close it. I need to focus on Rigel.

All that gore and blood is making me sick to the stomach, but I need to bear it for him. I can’t have him feeling less wanted because he is different from others.

"Why don’t I go and get rid of these before someone sees them and..." Saiph makes eye contact with me and I nod.

"Let’s go have a bath. How does that sound?" I ask Rigel who is still holding me like a lifeline.

Quietly he nods. Saiph leaves first while Rigel sweeps me away towards his room and into the bathroom.

We stand facing each other.

Rigel has never taken off his clothes in front of me so I don’t know if he will be comfortable.

"Can I?" I ask, placing my hands on the front of his buttoned-up black shirt. He wears no other colour but black.

It’s drenched with blood just like his face and I don’t want to think what his thought process must have been like when he killed and deboned Tarian.

The very thought is making me sick to my stomach, but I will deal with that later; for now, I have to be there for him so he won’t feel like I abhor him.

It also makes me think what has been done to him that makes him this dark?

"Yes but don’t be horrified," he says with an ominous calmness.

Horrified???

Why?

With trembling hands, I begin to unbutton his shirt. He stays still, watching me, observing me.

I shrug off his shirt from his lean body and throw it aside, ridding him of this bloody thing.

His chest is smooth, like carved from marble. My gaze drags along his arms and there is a criss-cross on his right bicep. I graze it with my left hand.

My eyes slowly dip to his waist and the horrors continue. Several crosses seem to have been burnt into his flesh; the skin is discoloured and rough with tissue damage.

Vampires heal whatever injuries they go through. These haven’t healed which means these are cursed marks.

My fingers tremble as I touch them and raise my saddened eyes to him. Although, I know what they are because my wound on the thigh was not very different from his.

He has been cursed just like me, as I have feared.

"So many?" I ask in a trembling voice.

"So lucky to have numerous unwanted tattoos."

There are a total of six crosses on his waist and one on his right arm. It means he can’t speak about so much, almost everything related to him, his past, his parents, his life, his tormentor.

It breaks me seeing him like this, but I don’t want to cry in front of him. I have to be his strength, not his weakness, when he is this vulnerable and pained.

My hands slide down to his black pants, unbuttoning the hook, I let them slide down his body with extra care, leaving him in his boxers.

His shadows flow like wreaths covering his legs and hovering around my wandering hands.

A desperation, a mind-numbing sadness, ripples down the bond between us, which makes me shudder. It’s his emotions, deep and raw, suffocating.

Even his breathing is irregular as he steps out of his pants.

My eyes find him, and a veil of grief shrouds his eyes.

So I lean in, placing my hand on his chest. "It’s okay, no one is going to hurt you."

"You can’t promise that. I am broken beyond repair, only you hold me together." His bloodied hands come to hold my face.

"You are not broken, and now that I can feel the mate bond with you, next time your tormentor comes, I am going to face him."

His eyes blaze with a fury at my words making his grip tighten on my face.

"No, you will not. You will stay away."

I offer him a pained smile. "That’s the thing Rigel. Since you refused to listen when I told you not to kill Tarian. This time I will refuse you." I pat his chest and he offers me a furious glare. "Consider this your punishment and we will be even after this."

His shadows leech off his body and descend on me like misty coldness as if thanking me.

"See, even your shadows agree. They are tired of remaining trapped."

"Amaia, it’s not a joke," he sternly says. But I am tired of someone hurting him. This needs to end.

"And you underestimate me when it comes to protecting my mates. Let’s bathe you." Before he can complain any further, I reach behind him and turn on the shower, drenching him with warm water.

His sleek ebony hair instantly soaks. The blood and water combine and drip down together.

Rigel grows silent as I grab the shampoo bottle, scoop out some on my hand and begin to lather his hair. I have to reach up so his shadows lift me up.

A small laugh escapes my throat and it makes the side of Rigel’s lips twitch slightly.

Thoroughly, I clean and dry him, not minding my drenched clothes. Rigel walks out with a towel around his waist.

"I will dress up and lay out dry clothes for you too." He gives me privacy to wash.

There is no lust in him, just pure feelings of love and affection washing down the bond.

This man surprises me on so many levels.

When I leave the bathroom, Rigel has placed a pair of his trousers and black shirt for me. He helps me put the clean dry clothes on, and we climb into his bed.

"You need to sleep," I tell him as he places his head in my lap.

"Will you stay with me until I do?" He pleadingly asks, his desperate eyes finding me.

"Yes." I rake my fingers through his soft hair while he closes his eyes and I begin to sing him the lullaby he had sung for me.

The one his mother used to sing for him.