Healing His Mate

Chapter 8

Aaliyah POV

I wake to the feel of warmth surrounding me as sparks of electricity run through my body. Lifting my eyelids slowly, I'm met with a dark blue colored cloth. I feel a soft breath against the top of my head as the pillow I'm laying on rises up and down.

I feel the hand on my back move slightly causing me to hold my breath as memories of what happened last night play like a movie in my mind.

I broke out of the hospital and the others chased after me. I refused to be tested on anymore and I decided death would be better. In that moment, I wanted to die.

He stopped me, I drag my thoughts away from the pain and fear.

He wouldn't let me hurt myself. He said I was safe. He said that he would protect me.

I shift slightly in his hold to lift my head towards him. Leaning my temple against his chest, I scan the face of my protector.

I take in his solid cheekbones and tossed hair. His lips are tipped into a lazy smirk as he dreams and the sight causes my heart to beat faster. I feel the heat pass between us as sparks run up my back from where he is holding me.

I know who he is.

He is my protector. He is my mate.

Without Aiya's words to prove it though, I still feel wary.

What if I'm wrong? I think to myself. I feel my heart crack at the thought, What if this is just another test from the hunters?

A whimper escapes my lips at the thought. I feel his arm twitch tighter around my waist as the small sound reaches his ears and his eyelids open to meet mine.

His eyes are dark and open as he screams out his thoughts to me without opening his lips. I read him like a book as the feelings of hope, fear, and concern all float through his orbs.

"Good morning, angel," his voice calms my nerves. He lifts one of his hands from my waist to brush my hair back from my face, "How are you feeling?"

His concern is real. I know it is.

What if I'm not wrong? I question myself, Is he my mate?

"Hey," he rubs his thumb against my cheek to refocus my attention back on him, "What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

I open my lips to answer him, but the tightness around my throat intensifies. Another strangled whimper replies instead of words.

He sits up and pulls me into his lap, hushing me gently, "What's wrong?"

I want to reply. I want to tell him that I'm alright for the first time in years. I want to ask him if I'm safe here and warn him about the hunters.

I want to ask him if he is my mate, but I can't.

I can't say anything.

My voice has been spellbound.

A month or two after I had been captured by the hunters, they brought in a young witch. The girl couldn't have been more than ten years old and they made her perform binding spells on all of the rare test subjects.

They didn't want us to be able to communicate with one another, so they made her bind our voices similar to how a coven can bind a witch's magic.

But, she couldn't control the spell. She was too young and inexperienced at magic. When she bound my voice, she made it impossible to communicate at all.

No talking. No sign language. I can't even write. The most I could do is small gestures like nodding or pointing and I can make noise.

But it's not enough.