Shackled

**Paul's Pov**

I'm not going to lie, they pretty much had to sew Iris's finger back on. Somehow, she managed to cut straight to her bone and then some. When her parents found out, her mother was rushing into the room. The doctor was in the middle of stitching her back together, her head pressed into my shoulder as I held both my arms around her tightly. When he saw us, he just looked at me knowingly before coming to sit on the bed, rubbing his daughters' back softly and telling her how brave she was. Her father was taking care of a patient in another part of the ER, so he couldn't make it. Is it wrong to say I'm a little glad about that?

It's obvious she's my mate. A fertile doesn't become hypnotized by your voice for no reason, it takes a special bond. Some couples have the power to just know what the other one needs just by sight, and the littlest thing will fix whatever problem is going on. And in her case, my voice pulled her into a state of bliss and pleasure that dulled her other senses. Which isn't uncommon for a dom to be able to do to his fertile.

The whole time we were in the hospital, she was a crying mess. She expressed her wanting for me to stay many times, blubbering about how scared she was and that I couldn't abandon her. There wasn't a thought in my mind telling me to leave even before she asked me to stay. I can't imagine just getting up and walking out of the room while she's hurt, that's just wrong. She's my fertile whether she knows it or not, and leaving would be unacceptable. Astric would have kicked me out in a heartbeat if he could have, though. Lets just say he wasn't happy at all with the fact that she wanted me to hold her and not him. I guess rejection from your baby sister can hurt when it means she's in another mans' arms.

I'll admit it-She scared the fuck out of me. I was so afraid she'd loose too much blood (which she almost did) or be in too much pain to handle. Even now as I recline against the arm rest of the couch in her living room with her laying on me, head on my chest with her right hand still clutching tightly to my shirt, I'm still a little worried. Is she in pain still? Will it heal right? Being a fertile, she should be very good at healing, but she was born with a flesh defect that stunts the regeneration process in half.

“What the fuck is up with you and Iris, Paul?” Astric asks me angrily when he enters the room, trying to keep his voice down so he doesn't startle his sleeping sister.

“There's nothing-”I start to protest, but he cuts me off, Rage seeping out of him as black consumes his eyes.

“Don't fucking bullshit me! Are you fucking my sister, you whore?!” He accuses me, finger pointing in my direction. The Rage that starts to form in me is uncontrollable, threatening to seep out of my soul with deadly force. I can't let it. Don't let it consume.

“How could you say that? I'm your best friend! And I just fucking met her!” I growl, Iris making soft moaning noises in her sleep, squirming in my arms. We both look down at her before realization sinks into Astric's head.

“No. No.. Just get out, Paul. Go home.” He says lowly, shock and sadness mixing in his voice and face.

All I can do is stare up at him in my own shock. He tells me to go again in a stern voice so I carefully move Iris onto the couch. Astric hovers close as I slip my shoes on and grab my keys. With one more look at Iris, I leave.

The second I'm in my car, I start cursing myself for just getting up and leaving. Sure, he asked me to and I want to respect his wishes because I'm his friend, but Iris needs me. What's going to happen when she wakes up? Is he going to tell her that I just got up and left after I promised I wouldn't? Tell me I'm sounding like a fertile, but he's just fucked up. That's his little sister, I get it, but I'm her mate. Maybe it's unofficial and not discussed like it should be since she's so young, but I still should be able to stay with her after she almost cut her fucking finger off and soaked me in her blood.

It didn't take me long to get to my small house since I live just a few streets down. Getting out of my car, I walk up to my front door. I fumble with my keys for a second before getting the lock open and striding into my house. After the entry way is a door leading to my small kitchen, the living room straight out from it where I have a TV, couch, and recliner. There's another door that leads to my dining room and the bathroom door is directly horizontal to it. Stairs leading up sit right by my TV, my house so cramped that a bedroom can't even fit in the original floor plans.

I take the stairs two at a time, unbuttoning my shirt as I go. My uniform is ruined with blood, but that's something to be expected in my profession although it isn't from a torture victim. That's exactly why we get 15 new uniforms a month even if we don't need them, more if we totally run out. Some stuff just stains permanently.

The small hall holds four doors: my room, the guest room, laundry room, and the bathroom. The bathroom is the first room to the left while the guest room is down the hall more to the right. At the very end of the hall is the last two doors, my room to the left and the awkwardly placed laundry room to the right. I don't know who designed these houses, but the washing machine and dryer could have been placed better. Why not in the garage like most houses?

Despite the fact that I live so close to the mansion that Iris is housed in, most of the houses on my street are fairly small, two bed, two bath homes with pretty big backyards. They were built with the interest of young vampire families in mind. You live there for a while with your mate before having a baby, something easy to get you onto your feet with one child. When the second one pops out, either you shove two in one room or get a slightly bigger house. It all depends on your family.

I grew up in a house this size with one other sibling. We shared a room until I was 14 when we got a bigger house across town. My brother, he was a fertile, was about three years younger than me. He always smooth talked me into playing dolls with him or letting him dress me up in our mothers' clothing. I was wrapped around his finger--he was everything to me. I loved him to death, then the unspeakable thing happened to him and my parents when I was 16. I never got to see them again.

Stepping into the bathroom, I shed my clothes and tossed them into the dirty hamper. Trying to shake the thoughts, I turn the shower on so it can adjust. With one last look at my phone, I step into the hot spray of water. Why can't the thoughts just quit eating me alive?

**Astric's PoV**

After putting Iris to bed, I sit on the couch next to Stell. He crawls into my lap, cuddling against me in hopes of breaking the tension. I kiss his forehead, pushing some of his light hair behind his ears while gazing into his caramel eyes. He offers me a perfect smile, one I gladly return before I hear car doors shut, signaling my parents coming home. I gently move my fertile off of my lap, standing up to greet them.

“It's Paul, Dad. He's the one,” I tell my father, Peter Ventimiglia, the second he walks through the front door. He looks tired, still dressed in his scrubs with his hair slightly messed up. I get my looks from him- Dark hair and dark eyes.

“What do you mean?” He asks, kicking his shoes off with a confused look on his face.

“He's Iris's mate.”