Saida

-----

Crimson had made me worry far too many times for me to count over the course of my life, but this was the worst one yet. It was all so chaotic and messed up and I didn't know what had me most freaked out. The fact that Crimson was about to go and fight the whole coven, that some unknown person with Goddess knew what intentions had helped us out of the prison, or the image of Crimson desperately drinking the bag of blood with eyes that shone red.

I had wanted to stay with her, just to make sure she would be alright. But I knew her all too well and knew from the look on her that she would not give in.

So instead I stood, looking at the most depressing building I had ever seen. Even prisons looked more inviting. This thing looked like a block of cement rather than a building.

I wondered briefly if I had come to the right place. But there was only one way to find out, so I went up to the door and rang the bell before taking a couple of steps back. It felt better to keep a slight distance, for if it was the right place, then it was a house full of vampires. Now Crimson might partly be one and she seemed to have changed her opinion on them drastically. But I knew of far too many stories of what could happen if you weren't careful around vampires.

The door was opened in a second.

"Who are you?" the man who opened the door asked, but I barely heard him for my heart had skipped a beat, my head screamed one single word, and my eyes couldn't look away from his brown eyes that were as warm as hot chocolate.

Mate. He was my mate.

I had long dreamed and wondered about my mate. Who would he be, how would he be and what? I had pictured a million different scenarios for what it would be like when I met him. Most of the scenarios included us seeing each other in a crowded room, then running into each other's arms and kiss. Or maybe he would be a stranger on the street, that we would already be walking towards one another and stop when we got face to face, preferably right outside a cute coffee shop.

But here it was, and it was like none of that. My mate was a vampire and as such had no idea who I was to him. What was more, he looked at me with the utmost suspicion.

"Who are you?" he repeated his question, which brought me out of my thoughts but created new ones.

Should I tell him straight away that I'm his mate? But what if he rejects me? And what if I don't actually want him when I've gotten to know him? No, it's better to keep it to myself for a bit.

"I'm looking for Alair," I gave the name Crimson had told me to say. Some of the suspicion disappeared from my mate's eyes, but they narrowed minutely instead in what looked to me like anger. But why?

"That still did not answer my question. Now don't make me ask it again."

Well... seemed like my mate wasn't one to play around. In fact, he sounded very harsh, enough so to make me want to shrink back.

"I'm Saida. A friend of Crimson. She told me to come here for safety and to ask for Alair when I came. She said he'll help," I rambled out quickly and finally saw my mate's stance ease up. He even took a step back and to the side, making it possible for me to enter the house.

"You should have said so immediately," he berated me slightly, but his tone was much more relaxed than before. "Alair isn't here at the moment. He went with Lamech to find Crimson. Is she alright?"

A sting of jealousy hit my heart at his question. What did it matter how Crimson was doing? Why would he care about that? Then I realized I was being ridiculous and that I myself was actually worried about her as well. Though as soon as that thought was in my head, I felt myself starting to shake a bit.

I saw how my mate's eyes widened and he took a few steps towards me.

"Are you alright?" he asked and his hand seemed to start moving to me, but stopped and fell back to his side.

"It's... It's just been a long day," I answered and tried to laugh, but it came out all shaky. "Crimson is fine, I think at least."

He nodded. "Let's get inside. I'll wait with you. Do you want something to eat? Or to drink? A cup of tea?"

"Perhaps something stronger to drink wouldn't hurt," I answered and saw his lips turn up into a small smile.

"Then follow me," he said, and I did. He brought me to some stairs, and we went down several before turning off into a corridor and then into a room that looked like a bar. We walked straight to the counter, and I sat down on a barstool while he went around and to the other side.

"How strong are we talking?" he asked and started moving around bottles.

"The stronger, the better."

As he brought things forward, I took a moment to assess him further. He had red hair and a few freckles. If that wasn't enough to make me aware of where he had been born, he did also speak with a slight Scottish accent. He was both tall and well-built, but his movements were all smooth and like he was in complete control of himself and everything else. He wore plain black pants and a t-shirt that showed off the strength of his arms. I knew I'd feel completely safe in the midst of a war with those arms wrapped around me.

He gave me a small glass and filled it. I didn't hesitate, but poured it all down my throat in one go. It stung my throat and made me want to gag, but it also warmed me up from the lingering coldness of the prison that I hadn't even noticed. As soon as I put the glass down, he poured more into it. That time I didn't down it all.

"I'm Stuart, by the way," he told me.

Stuart. The name of my mate.

"I'm Saida," I answered, though I knew I had already said it, but I had no idea how else to answer him.

"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" he asked and then his eyes seemed to roam over me, in a way it hadn't before. As if checking for signs of what I might need. I saw how his eyes lingered on my arm and my throat and there was a flash of red in them.

I knew very well what he had noticed on my arm, the long cut I had gotten while trying to fight the witches off. As for my throat, I could only guess, but they had strangled me to near unconsciousness to subdue me.

"I'm sure," I answered, but that only made his eyes turn red and stay that way. It scared me somewhat, for I didn't know what it might mean, what he might end up doing.

But to my surprise, he only stretched his hand out and let his fingers trace the cut. It made me feel even warmer than the alcohol had. Then he moved his fingers and they traced my neck as well. It was such a gentle and soft touch, it almost felt like he was worried anything might break me.

He then took a shaky breath between closed teeth.

"What happened to you?" he asked, his voice low and deep and sent shivers through me.