7
Cameron
I sit in bed, watching Isabel sleep at my side, and make a call I never thought I’d make. Clemence Rumes, the king of the werewolves, hasn’t been an ally of mine or my kind for centuries, but he’s the only one who might hold the answers I seek to the questions I have. I hold my phone to my ear and wait as it rings.
“Do I even want to know why you are calling?” The question is growled, and I bite back the urge to growl back.
“I’m looking for answers.”
“And you called me for those?” he laughs, and I can picture him sitting on his throne, his long hair as dark as mine, accentuating his hard features that have been frozen in time.
“I’ve heard rumors over the years that your people believe in reincarnation.”
“They are nothing but rumors or old wives tales told to make people feel better after they experience loss,” he states, and I close my eyes.
“They aren’t rumors or wives tales.” I open my eyes and look down at Isabel, who cried herself to sleep in my arms after our kiss.
“What happened?” His tone is no longer mocking.
“I cannot say. I just need to know what the story is.” I refuse to put Isabel in any more danger. I already have a fight on my hands with Samuel. I know his messenger scented that I had mated with her and passed the news on to the king. When I thought Isabel was asleep, I got a call from one of his men informing me that I had been summoned. That’s why I didn’t hear her escape and why it took me hours to track her scent to the hotel.
“It’s never happened, but some believe that if true love exists between a man and woman, their souls will find a way back to each other.” True love, a love like Isabel’s and mine. “It’s said that three lost souls exist, that upon the reuniting of the first souls the others will come together then worlds will collide and a war will come. Cameron, tell me what is going on.” His tone is begging.
“Nothing. I need to go.” I hang up.
I can’t think about a war right now. All I can think about is Isabel and getting her safe. We can’t stay in Scotland. I need to take her to one of my other homes. Preferably one of the ones I own surrounded by water. There, I’ll be able to have men guard her around the clock while I meet with Samuel.
I call Angus and tell him what needs to be done, and after I hang up, I roll toward Isabel and rest my mouth to her ear.
“Wake up, love. We need to go.”
“Go away. I’m sleeping.” She snuggles her face into my chest, and I wish I could allow her to sleep, allow myself this moment to hold her.
“You can sleep on the plane,” I state, and her muscles bunch.
“The plane?”
“Yes.”
She sits up and avoids looking at me. “So I’m leaving then?” Her heartbeat sounds heavy and her shoulders seem to slump.
“We’re leaving.” She looks at me curiously, hopefully, and I realize she thought I was sending her away. “We cannot stay here in Scotland. The man who came to my house to deliver the scroll works for the king, the king of the vampires.” Her eyes widen. “I know he scented our mating and informed the king.”
“Why would they care?” She scans my face.
“Because your kind is not allowed to know about us, and we are not allowed to be together.”
Her eyes close and her head drops forward. “You’re in trouble.”
“Yes, but more importantly, you’re in danger.” I despise the fear I see in her gaze when she looks at me, but she needs to know the truth.
“Where are we going?”
Hope soars in my chest at her easy acceptance. “To an island I own in the Caribbean Sea. A place where I can have you protected while I leave to take care of a few things.”
“What? You’re not staying with me?”
“I’m sorry.” I reach for her, and she closes the distance between us, latching onto my face with her hands gripping tightly.
“You can’t leave me. I’ll come with you. I’ll swear to them I’ll never tell anyone, that your secrets are safe with me.”
My long-forgotten heart aches. “I wish it were that easy, love, but it’s not. My people will demand the law be upheld and they will not let this go unless I can convince them that you have somehow come back to me.”
“You can’t leave me, not after… not after we just found each other again.”
“I must.” I say holding her face. “I’m sorry but I must.”
Her eyes search mine. “Then give me a week, one week with you before you go,” she pleads.
My jaw tightens along with my arms around her. “One week,” I agree. The king’s message asked that I meet him in two weeks to discuss an issue he was having with a rogue vampire. I can give her a week and still meet that obligation.