Blind Hearts and Silenced Passion Read Online Free Page A

The two should have been mutually exclusive, and
yet, he and Baqir managed the incredible achievement of cramming it all into
one conversation.
    It might have started out as Remy's fault. He was trying hard
not to panic, but deep inside, he was mentally flailing, well aware that he had
his mate in his apartment. He wasn't too happy about the fact that Baqir was
obviously uncertain of their bond—but at the same time, he understood and
empathized.
    "So how does this work?" he asked as he poured
Baqir some tea. "I'm not really familiar with a lot of mated wolves."
    Baqir arched a dark brow. "And you think I am?"
    Well, no, of course he wasn't. Remy felt sort of foolish for
asking. By rights, he should have been the one with the knowledge, but after
he'd been blinded, he had mostly belonged to the pack in name alone. No one had
rejected him, but he was unwilling to be around other people, since he knew
they both pitied him and thought his punishment was well-deserved. His brother
was the only one he'd stayed close to, but Laurent didn't have a mate either.
    "I suppose things are different for everyone?" he
tried.
    Baqir opened his mouth to reply, but then he wrinkled his
nose as he took in the scent of the tea. "What in the world is in
this?"
    "I have no idea." Remy laughed. "Moon only
knows what Reynard puts in those concoctions of his." Sometimes, it
smelled like opium, other times it was kava or even simpler things like
lavender. This time around, it was definitely one of the more potent blends.
    He could have dropped things there, shrugged off the most
difficult part of the explanation. For some reason, he didn't.
    "Some time ago, things became very difficult in my
life," he said, sobering. "You probably know what I'm talking about.
I lost my eyesight."
    Baqir nodded and patiently waited for Remy to continue.
Oddly, it was easy for him to do so. "I went through a self-destructive
stage. At one point, I was willingly dosing myself with silver and wolfsbane,
just because it seemed to give me the illusion that I could see."
    Baqir's hold on the tea mug tightened so much Remy was
surprised it didn't crack. "What happened?"
    "Reynard helped me. He found me and helped me curb my
addiction. Now, he occasionally supplies me with these special teas. I believe
they also serve to heal the damage I myself did on my body, although there's
definitely a recreational component."
    Baqir didn't ask about Reynard—which made Remy suspect they
hadn't really met by coincidence. He didn't even ask about Remy's stint with
blindness, something for which Remy was very thankful. Instead, Baqir focused
on the tea. "So you can get drunk on this," he guessed.
    Remy grinned, not bothering to suppress his relief.
"Quite right. Want to try?"
    It was, perhaps, irresponsible, and it didn't solve a thing.
But the tension between them was so thick he needed a strong knife to cut
through it, and maybe this would make things better.
    Half an hour later, Remy and Baqir had relocated on his
living room couch. The world was spinning slightly. At some level, he remained
aware that he had something very important to talk about with Baqir, but he
couldn't bring himself to care.
    Baqir seemed to think the same. He pulled Remy in his arms
and held him close, his scent once more invading Remy's already overwhelmed
senses. "I don't want to be a silencer anymore," he confessed.
"I just want to be your mate."
    "You already are," Remy whispered against his lips.
"And you don't have to be anything you don't want to. You don't have to
carry the weight of the world on your own."
    He wanted to say more, but even this reply came out raspy and
slurred. It was just as well, because the tea had obviously affected him, and
he was liable to do something stupid or reckless. The silence that fell was
comfortable, Baqir's scent relaxed him, and he didn't want to think about conversation,
about being afraid, or wary, or even concerned.
    Remy didn't know who reached for whom first, but it