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She visibly shudders, and I don’t think it’s from the cold.

She turns her head away from me, and I avert my eyes.

“Leave me alone.”

Such cold words from a woman desperate for warmth.

“Or let me go,” she adds.

“You know I can’t do that,” I say as I get up. “But I promise you, there will be no more pain from now on.”

“I don’t believe you,” she says, grabbing the blanket in front of her to wrap it around her body like a cocoon.

I shrug. “Suit yourself.”

My words won’t be able to convince her, but my actions will. In time, she’ll understand why she’s here, but for now, we’ll both have to deal with the situation. She hates me, and that’s fine. We have all the time in the world to make her fall for me, and I’m not in any rush.

But as I walk toward the door, I can’t help but leave a tiny present for her.

Something I know she cherishes … something that’ll make her heart burn with curiosity.

The embroidered scarf with the symbol on the front.

The scarf that she knows came from this community.

Chapter 9

Natalie

For a moment, I stare at the door through which he disappeared. Next to it is a small post … on which a scarf lies. My scarf. The one I wore on the day we met.

Did he place it there just to entice me? To coax me into wanting more?

The scarf pulls me toward it like a magnet. My fingers gently caress the fabric and the symbol; the same symbol on his hand.

They must be connected. This can’t be a coincidence.

He put this here on purpose for me to find. For me to realize … to remember …

I close my eyes and dig into my memories, memories of a long-buried past … my childhood.

A woman with beautiful, dark, and thick flowing auburn hair wraps a scarf around my neck. She pats it down and tucks it into my coat, zipping me up. I’m like a walking stuffed marshmallow man. I shiver. It’s so cold, and where we’re going, I’m going to need all the warmth I can get.

Outside.

Boots crackle across the snow. There’s a path going toward the dark forest beyond.

Behind me, the woman waves at me. I wave back.

I’m about to leave … and she isn’t coming with me.

I look ahead. In front of me is a boy, and on his hand is that same tattoo.

Then he grabs me and whisks me off into the dark.

Away from home.

My eyes burst open. I can’t breathe.

The firmly clutched scarf drops from my hand onto the floor.

What did I just see? Was that a figment of my imagination? Or a … memory?

It’s been so long since I last had these fragmented images flash through my head. I used to always push them away and force them to leave because I don’t want to know. I don’t want to remember how I got from there to here … How I ended up an orphan.

But maybe that’s the answer to everything that’s happening to me now.

Picking up the scarf again, I bring it to my nose because the smell always calms me down. But the scent that enters my nose doesn’t remind me of my home. It smells like him.

Someone knocks on the door, breaking my chain of thought. “Natalie? Can we enter?”

I quickly tuck the scarf underneath my pillow in my bunk bed and clear my throat. “Yes.”

The door opens and in steps Emmy, April, and Holly. They tentatively look around to see if he’s still there as if that’s something to be excited about. Even April has given in to the charade, and I look her straight in the eyes, hoping she’ll remember that she isn’t one of them. We don’t belong here.

“Has the patriarch left?” Emmy whispers.

I nod, and she closes the door shut. “You have to tell us all about him. Was he kind to you? Was he sweet? Caring? Gentle?”

Emmy and Holly are all up in my face now, and I don’t like it one bit.

I hold up my hands. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

Emmy squeals. “Oh my … I’m so excited. I wish I could say jealous, but that would be a sin, so I won’t ever feel that way. But I’m so happy for you.” She gives me a kiss on both cheeks before I can say no.

“It’s a great honor to have the attention of a patriarch,” she adds.

“Hmm, if you say so.” I roll my eyes.

“What did he want from you?” Holly asks. “Oh, wait,” she immediately adds. “Don’t say anything. It’s not my place to ask. I apologize.”

I’m glad she corrected her because it really is none of her business.

“I am very curious, though,” she says, tapping her chin. “He brought you back from a punishment so there must be something special. No one’s ever interrupted a punishment before it was finished.”


Tags: Clarissa Wild His Romance