Eleazar will not let anything happen to me.
I must trust him.
He is my mate.
Silus cannot touch me once our bond is recognized.
She caught her breath, forcing herself to repeat any calming thought she could imagine.
The large stack of boxes was draped in an old sheet that hung to the dusty, planked floor. A small dormer window facing west let in a beam of light. Dust motes danced in the golden rays, drawing her attention to a wooden chest.
“ORDER RECORDS,” she read the label, noting the years were fairly recent.
The chest was unlocked and she managed to flip the latch open with little effort. Files stacked inside and she had no intention of touching any until she spotted her name.
Sliding the file free of the others, she held it in the light. A slip of paper drifted from the contents and landed on her lap.
Measurements. She lifted the paper and frowned. Not just measurements. It also contained a list of features such as dark brown hair, blue eyes, and the mention of a birthmark.
Her hand drifted to her cheek, where a similar birthmark showed. These were her details.
She flipped the paper over and found a strand of her hair taped to the back and she dropped the offensive script.
She opened the file and understood. It was a manifesto, gathered by The Council, recording Silus’s intent to marry her as an uncalled wife.
Every recorded statement read like a violation. Transcripts from an interview she’d given more than a year ago filled nearly ten pages. Her words appeared so painfully trusting and naive. No one had warned her what sort of male she’d be marrying.
A tear fell onto the paper, blooming into a puddle and smudging the ink. Turning the page, she found the contract she’d signed. It hadn’t been just more than two years, yet it felt like a lifetime ago.
She had so much hope in her heart. She’d genuinely believed they would be happy. Her efforts alone should have granted as much. But there was no pleasing a man like Silus, and there was no erasing the memories they made as husband and wife.
Closing the file, she held it to her chest and cried as if she were holding an innocent little girl. She wished she could have saved herself from such a fate.
The sun eventually faded behind the trees, and with the darkness came the voices of males mingling below. Some went home to their mates, while others mulled about on the lawn, discussing council business in muffled voices too distant for her to overhear.
Afraid to return downstairs, she rested against the boxes until only moonlight seeped into the attic. Sometime after the stars filled the sky and the clock chimed from the kitchen below, she drifted off to sleep.
The faint creak of the door opening and footsteps approaching caused her to stir. She held her body still and squeezed her eyes tight, mentally and emotionally exhausted. Nestling closer to the draped boxes, in the silence of her worry, she drifted back to sleep.
Chapter 30
When Eleazar finally made it back to his office, his nerves were shot. He tried to reason with The Council about Isaiah’s existence all day and made absolutely no headway. They had been just as stubborn when Cain Hartzler had pleaded with them weeks ago.
They believed he crossed a vampire in the woods, but the assumption that it might be Isaiah seemed too far of a stretch for The Elders. After hours of testimony and countless recesses, so that male members of The Order could reflect, no decision was made.
Damascus Hostetler would be the greatest obstacle of all. At one point, he even pulled Eleazar aside to urge him to let Silus hunt his wife.
Silus no longer had a wife, he simply didn’t realize it yet. As soon as the Isaiah issue was resolved and a solution decided, he would inform The Council of his new mate. At that point, her marriage to the other male would be absolved.
Depositing some items on his desk, he shut his eyes and paused. The mere thought of Larissa brought such a fresh image to mind, and it was as if he could smell her nearby.
His head angled toward the curtains and he frowned. Lifting the fabric to his face, he inhaled the familiar fragrance, notes of his mate climbed into his lungs and his gaze jerked to attention. She had been in his office.
Opening the door to his private home, he closed it behind him and yelled, “Larissa?”
The scent of fear lured him up the stairs. His mind reached for hers, but she’d closed herself off. “Larissa?”
Gripping the doorframe of his bedroom, he stared at the empty bed, his heart lurching into a gallop. Not a single lamp or candle was lit.
“Larissa!”
He raced through the house, searching for any scent of an outsider. All he could smell was his missing mate and the traces of her fear. Then, emotion sorrowfully assaulted him and he staggered, hand pressing hard to his chest.