Once and once again -- The scarred prince's human mate

Shrivelled little....

Silas

She doesn’t even give me the time to show her the way. Barging forward, she starts shouting her friend’s name. It takes several wrong turns until she stumbles into the room behind the hidden door and suddenly finds herself face-to-face with my whole family. My mate squints a little against the light but resumes calling out for her friend one more time.

“Noe! Noe, are you here?!” Her voice touches something deep within me even though she no longer looks scared.

‘Whoa…’ Khai’s voice sounds through the mind link, and I can see all my family members looking straight at her with unabashed curiosity, Jade’s eyes being the first to jump from the girl to me and land on my hands. I ball them into fists to hide the blood I no doubt have on them.

“What the hell happened?” Khai is the first to open his mouth, his gaze jumping from me to the girl and back.

“Shriveled little short d**ked man took a letter opener to the carotid.”

Her voice is smooth, but there is this lilt again that I kind of like. Under the scrutiny of all of them, she wipes the back of her hand over her cheek, smearing some blood that she got on her cheek. And my hands itch to clear it for her.

‘Mate shouldn’t have blood on her. Help her!’

“Anything else?”

My obnoxious brother wiggles his eyebrows, glancing at her get up, and I growl at him.

“No.” Suddenly her voice drops a few octaves, a sultry undertone peaking through. And the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I have no idea how to react to her when she says:

“The big man didn’t get it up and handsome here….” Then turns and gives me a smile that makes me turn my head to hide the left side of my face. She should stop. I’m not handsome. Why in front of my family? A blush creeps up my neck.

“… I tried, but he’s too much of a gentleman.”, she continues.

When she puts her hand on my arm, I feel like someone poked me with one of those cattle sticks, electrocuting me with as high a voltage as possible. And, of course, my mom notices.

’Silas, honey…’

‘No, Mom’

I cut off the mind link and stare straight ahead. Breathe. I need to breathe. Focus on her. She needs to be what I focus on because—

“But now I would like to find my friend… this rescue mission is all good and well, but if one of you touched her, I swear—

“V-Valentina?”

Valentina. I like the way that sounds in my head. Bet it’s even better when I’ll say it out loud.

______________

Valentina

“Noe? Is that you?” My heart is pounding in my chest. I could swear I heard her. Where is she? The blood rushing in my ears is deafening. Get it together, dang it! You’re a grown-up. You can handle it. You have to take care of Noemi. Don’t be a mess. You’re not allowed to be a mess right now. Already went weak earlier. I fist my hands, ignoring the warmth the big body I can feel following me around is giving off.

“Yeah, I—I’m here.”

“Sh** you scared me!”

I suppress the gulp and the massive sigh of relief weaving through the room toward the far end and kneeling to crawl under the small table. Noemi is still sitting there. She seems unharmed, and I see a tall man crouching at a small distance watching over her, his grey eyes following every slight movement. Kind. He looks kind.

The slightly unruly hair, something that looks like seeds from a flower on his sleeve, and the uncomfortable way he keeps tugging at his jacket tell me he’s not really into this kind of function and… might be trustworthy.

But then again, you never know. I thought Doug and Belinda were friendly when I arrived in the States. And then they spiked my tea the second night I stayed at their house and sold me to a creepy man that looked like the ‘crazy head maker’ from Alice in Wonderland.

I still hate myself for ignoring the signs. My Mom always mocked me for it, but she is the reason I’m this… perceptive. She would call it ‘reading too much into stuff.’ Told me I’d spoil everything by overthinking and overanalyzing. Only seeing the bad in people. Well, people hardly ever show me ‘the good.’, Iga, so excuse me! Even if it makes me sound pathetic: no idea what 'good' would even look like.

Pushing my hand out to her, I carefully help Noe up from under the table to get a better look at her. Then, slowly unfurling like a small animal, my friend grabs my hand and gets up. Maybe she sees it in my eyes when she peers at me past that matted hair always falling in her face. Perhaps she sees my hands shake even though I try to steady them. I don’t know.

Once she stands up, I let my eyes move over her. She’s tiny. I take a sharp breath when I register her ribs and collarbones sticking out as she straightens. Then I meet her eyes. The purple still startles me—my quiet, strong friend. I see the worry about me in her eyes. And something else. Hope. Don’t know if I can sign up for that yet, Noe.

“F**k, Noemi, you can’t scare me like that. Going to give my old a** a heart attack.” I hear the frail little thing chuckle at that. Making light of the situation feels like the only thing I can do right now.

I wrap my arms around her, ignoring the sheet I used to cover myself sliding to the ground. Who the f**k cares? We were forced to be almost naked all the time anyway. Not like the girls haven't seen this yet. It’s not mine anymore. Not after so many-

Just not ‘mine’ anymore. Pushing Noemi back to avoid the dark turn my thoughts wanted to take, I give my friend another once over, patting her down.

“Are you all right? Did they scare you? Did someone touch you?” I don’t give a f**k that I sound a little like an overprotective mother. I know I’m younger than her, but she’s- she’s mine to look after. I promised.

“No, Val. They…were really nice.” Tears well up in her eyes. "I’m so sorry! I didn’t say anything… I was so in shock when they dragged you away. I…. Should have told them-” She wrings her hands. "They took you because--”

I put an arm around her, pulling her to me again, brushing the free hand up and down for comfort. I don’t want her to feel guilty. Never. It’s not her fault that disgusting people exist. And that I tend to attract them.

“No worries, Noe.” I try my hand at a wink, even though all of it is just so surreal.

“My Handsome found me regardless.”

I know he’s only an arm’s length away. I don’t need to turn around to confirm that he’s there. Looming, watching me. And if I were someone else, I would feel flattered, safe. I wouldn’t just be making a joke about him saving me. Although that’s not untrue.

But this makes all my flight reflexes kick in. When he broke down the door and basically ripped the old bastard off of me, my heart was beating in my throat, and something roared to life the second that disgusting pig tried to go for the man’s neck. So without thinking, I grabbed the first thing in reach on the desk beside me.

Once the letter opener was in my tormentor’s neck was the first time, I looked at the other guy. Actually looked at him.

I’ve never been attracted to men. They are a means to an end, disgusting pigs who hurt you, or just a task I need to take care of to go on with life.

There is no way to explain my gut reaction to him. I don’t even know his name yet, and still, this notion that I have never laid eyes on a more beautiful man is sprouting in my brain like mushrooms. And it has me convinced I lost it over the two years of being locked up. I’m not an ‘ugh, his hair, beard, eyes... And that muscle!’- type of girl.

But: F**K! His eyes! That beard! That hair! That ‘every freaking inch of my body has less than .5 percent body fat’- kind of muscle! Seeing him move in that suit tells me all I need to know. Enough to be sure I need to stay the hell away. And then his eyes rope me in.

I have never seen a green that light. Seafoam with a hint of ‘forest after rainstorm’ sprinkled in. They are so earnest too. Everything about him is. How he carries himself, how he emotes, hell, even how he oh so carefully held me when I jumped him like a sobbing lunatic.

I regret that. I was weak. Won’t happen again. Not around him, not around anyone.

I still can’t believe I did that. And that I touched him. Uninvited. But I was so shell-shocked I don’t remember much— just that urge to be close to him. Somehow I wanted to make him feel better after I heard his heart pound, thrumming against his ribs when my head laid on his chest. His scars. I remember my vision focusing on those.

In many other people, I feel like scars take from them. I never find them less beautiful or handsome because of it, but they do. They minimize themselves. Talk down to themselves so much that it starts to show on the outside. With him, they…add. They look like they belong on his face. The break in the warm, tanned skin with an olive hint to it and the streak in the meticulously cropped beard he’s sporting just a not-so-hidden hidden part of an amazing painting.

Someone cackles, and my eyes move to the one close by that looks a lot like the quiet stud that came for me. He’s shorter by a few inches, but his face is the same except for the scars and the facial hair. Damn, that shave is so clean I don’t think you would find a single hair if you used a magnifying glass. He also seems to be the only one comfortable with the attire they all seem to be wearing: tuxes and ball gowns. So I was right. There was an event going on. Clothes. Right.

“Can someone get her some clothes? We—- What?” I see the Mom and the beautiful brunette cringe a little, five of the men around the room looking away awkwardly. The beardless twin (let’s face it, that’s what they must be) lets out a hooting noise, a slight grin tipping up his mouth, amused eyes pinned on the quiet giant.

I didn’t think a man that tall and imposing could move that fast or silently. Humanly impossible! Then again, he probably isn’t human… none of them are. Which only makes the terror in me spike more when he tries to grab my arms and push his suit jacket over them. No! No one gets to do that! No touching! EVER AGAIN! Not when I’m not in charge. When I feel like a fragile little thing that has no say!

“Hey! Kurwa!”

The Polish curse slips before I know it, and the jacket wrangler slows a little but doesn’t stop. So I slap at him. I manage to swat his hands away with all my strength, no doubt what must be a wild look in my eyes. When his gaze meets mine, I’m seething.

His head c**ks to the left, and it’s weirdly adorable and so much more infuriating all at the same time.

“Du bis niedlich, Handsome. Aber wenn du mich noch einmal anfasst, beiß ich.” I feel like I could be shooting arrows from my eyes, Noemi cowering at my side. Making sure to let my teeth snap in his direction, I step in front of her.

“She doesn’t want you to touch her… or she might bite.” I hear the Mother supply, no doubt trying to be helpful.

“Thanks. I gathered as much by her snapping her teeth at me.” He grumbles. Scoffing, I cross my arms over my chest to hide my trembling hands. And also, cause, you know, I want to prove a point but don’t want everybody just to be staring at my n**ples.

“Like you’ve never seen a naked woman before… Well.”

I focus on the clean-shaver. His hair is laid perfectly, there is a condom outline in his pocket, and he hasn’t once so much as looked in the direction of my boobs. It’s not the flickering interest of someone who knows they should look away or the ‘more concerned with other matters’ ignorance that the other men present display. It’s genuine disinterest in my body. Yep. Definitely seen naked women before, but no desire to increase that number.

“Just… “

The voice almost sends a shiver down my spine. Good god. Something is seriously wrong with me. Or this dude is popping pheromones like they’re candy. He’d only said what? 5-10 words before? But still, hearing his deep gentle voice now has me reeling. “Please?”