Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
It should have repulsed him.
It should have.
“You and I were… involved,” Idhron finally said.
Eridan stared at him.
He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Castien Idhron was an attractive man, in a cold and intense kind of way. There was clearly a strong, muscular body under those black robes, and his face was definitely handsome, his dark stubble and eyebrows a striking contrast to his pale hair. His mouth was finely shaped…
Licking his lips, Eridan halted that line of thought in its tracks before it could get out of hand. It didn’t matter how attractive this man was.
“And?” he said coldly. “Why did it warrant messing with my mind?”
Idhron’s expression became a little pinched. “It was your idea, not mine,” he said tersely. “You wanted to forget me and ‘start a new life.’” He said it like he was tasting something foul.
Eridan stared at him. He said slowly, “You mean I was in love with you, but you broke my heart.”
Idhron’s lips thinned, but he didn’t deny it.
Eridan sat down on the couch and picked up his multi-device. He stared at its unlit screen. “Thank you for clearing it up for me. Now it all makes sense. You may go, Your Grace.”
Idhron didn’t move.
“I did not come here for that purpose.”
His jaw tight, Eridan lifted his gaze to him. “Then to what do I owe the pleasure, Your Grace? Your actions were successful. I don’t remember you, and I definitely don’t love you.”
A muscle pulsed in Idhron’s cheek, his telepathic mark reaching for Eridan greedily again.
Eridan glared at him, more flustered than he would have liked. “Well?” he said haughtily.
Idhron walked over.
Eridan tried not to tense up, even though his heart started pounding, his skin prickling with awareness.
“You asked me to grant you this one kindness: make you forget me,” Idhron said, brushing the lock of hair from Eridan’s eyes with a gentle touch, his gaze on him so intense it was as scary as it was exhilarating. “I tried to be kind. To do the ‘right’ thing. But kindness does not come naturally to me. I am a selfish man.”
Eridan held himself very still. There was a part of him that yearned to lean into this man’s touch.
“What do you mean?” he managed, looking into those blue eyes.
“Let me restore your memories,” Idhron said. “And come home with me.”
Home.
Something about it was terribly tempting.
Eridan forced himself to shake his head. “I am home,” he said, his voice wavering. “I hate High Hronthar. I have nothing but bad memories of it.”
Idhron frowned. “It is likely just the false impression you have after I altered your memories. You will feel differently if you allow me to restore your memories. Your brother has brought to my attention that the loss of those memories affected you negatively, making some events in your past more traumatizing.”
Although Eridan had bristled and denied it every time Warrehn had alluded to his “trauma,” talking about it with this man didn’t feel as invasive. It felt surprisingly comfortable, even though he didn’t know this man at all.
Except he did, didn’t he? That was the issue.
“Maybe,” Eridan said, looking down at his own pale hands. “Since I don’t know what memories I lost, it’s hard for me to judge how much the loss of those memories is affecting me.” Eridan lifted his gaze back to Idhron and found him watching him with a fixed gaze, as if Eridan was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. It made something warm curl in Eridan’s stomach. He… liked having this man’s attention on him. Liked it a little too much.
“Your brother said you refused to see a mind healer,” Idhron said. “Why?”
Eridan scoffed. “Forgive me, Master, if I don’t feel too trusting after having my memories—” He cut himself off when he noticed the very strange expression on Idhron’s face. “What?”
Idhron’s gaze was dark and searching. “You called me Master. Are you starting to remember?”
“No,” Eridan said, a little confused himself. Maybe it was his subconscious.
“Then allow me to fix it,” Idhron said. “I will fix your memories, and everything will be as it should be. I will take you back to High Hronthar, where you belong. You are miserable here. I can see it, Eridan. Even your brother can see it.”
Eridan pressed his lips together. “You do realize that you have given me no incentive to consider your offer, right?”
Idhron’s brows furrowed. He seemed genuinely puzzled. “What incentive do you need? I suppose I could fast-track your promotion to a Master Acolyte. Or perhaps I could give you the estate on Vergx—you like it very much—”
Eridan laughed. “Stop. Just stop.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I fell in love with such an emotionally stunted man. If I had you erase my memories because of unrequited love, a fancy present wouldn’t fix anything. Or was that your idea of a love confession?”