Hi everyone! So sorry for the wait, I am now free from exams! Thanks to everyone who took the time to review, it means a lot. Anyway, this chapter is a little shorter than the others, but I should hopefully be publishing the next chapter sooner to make up for the long wait- most of it is already written, I just need to make some changes... So here is chapter 3

Chapter 3

It did get worse. It was now almost a week exactly since I had touched Luc that first time. Dad was really worried and kept insisting that I went to hospital, but what could I tell them? That I had a connection with some guy who was making me ill? He wanted to get the next available flight back, but I persuaded him not to. How was I supposed to explain to a doctor, let alone my dad, why I was ill? I had barely been able to keep anything down and was only just keeping hydrated. I was seriously scared that it would not get better. Then I realised: it wouldn't. It would only get worse. I couldn't fight this. I had to talk to Luc. The thought only brought another round of spasms and retching. I didn't know what else to do but to go to my mind and trying to send some kind of message, maybe to Luc, maybe to Maggie. She had said she could read minds, right?

Please, come. Luc? Maggie?

It was all I could manage before my brain, clouded with pain, lost coherent thought. It couldn't have been very long, a few minutes at most, although it felt like an hour, every agonising second felt like an hour, before I vaguely heard a noise at the door. I was too lost in the pain to be able to think properly. Next thing I knew, he burst through the door, then stopped dead at the sight of me. His face reflected the pain he was feeling, all for me. Could he really care and not just his body?

"What's happened to me?" I gasped out, retching over and over. He came to my side, knelt down on the floor and looked earnestly at my barely open eyes.

"Withdrawals," he told me simply. Of course, Maggie had told me something about them, but I had no idea they were this bad. Luc looked angry. Why was he angry at me?

"What do I do?" I whispered, looking into his eyes. In answer, he held out his hand for me to take. He was giving me the choice; still, even though he could have just taken my hand, he still wanted me to have a way out. I took his hand. Nothing happened. He looked confused for a second, before his face cleared.

"You have to accept it," he told me quietly. I could barely think. What was he trying to get me to do? Accept what? So, as much as I could, I tried to stop panicking and wait for something to happen. And happen it did. My crippling pains, aching, violent shaking and vomiting went, just like that; it was as if they were never there in the first place. But I realised that wasn't quite true. I still felt weak from lack of food and the confusion hadn't disappeared, but the difference was enough to make me feel strange and light.

I was still holding Luc's hand, but I didn't let it go. His hand was warm and felt just right in mine. Looking at him properly, I saw that he didn't look good. There were dark rings under his eyes and he was pale and looked a little unsteady. I realised that it must have been both of us that got 'withdrawals', not just me. I made me feel really bad that my stubbornness was making him ill as well. I wanted to help him but we were touching so his should have gone like mine, surely? "Your turn," I whispered to him. He looked surprised for a second, then stopped as his face cleared. He looked healthy again, but still with dark rings under his eyes. Even though he had looked really bad, he hadn't been as ill as me, because he was able to come and see me, whilst I hadn't been able to get out of bed. I wondered why that was.

"Because you're human," he answered softly, surprising me because he seemed to be able to read my mind. He frowned, seeming angry again, and I remembered when he was angry before. Why was he angry again? What had I done? Without a word, he turned around and walked out the room, closing the door behind him. I buried my head under the covers to think, sighing deeply. What had I done to make him angry, and then leave? I already missed his presence which had caused a deep calm in me. I ached inside, not just my body, me, for him to come back, to explain.

I heard footsteps and lifted my head to see him come back into the room, carrying a tray with soup and several glasses of water. He carefully helped me to sit up and I felt my weakness and slight dizziness more acutely. He carefully set the tray on my knees and pulled up a chair, sitting on it backwards and resting his chin and arms on it. He stared at me intently for a few seconds as I stared at him silently.

"I'll answer all the questions I can," he told me gently.

"Why were you angry at me?" I asked him, worried.

"Angry at you?" he asked, surprised. "I was not angry at you. I was angry that you had to be in pain, that us imprinting meant that you didn't have a choice, that I took your choice away. I am sorry you thought I was angry at you."

That did it. I started sobbing, heaving great big sobs that were a culmination of my relief at the ordeal being over, that he was thoughtful enough to think of bringing me soup and water and that he was angry because he thought it was his fault that he had caused me pain and taken away my choice. It kind of was, well, not even kind of. It was my fault for staying away on purpose, but he looked genuinely sorry for it. Most of all, it was his overwhelming sweetness and kindness. He quickly took the tray off my shaking legs and took me into his arms. They felt warm and familiar and so safe. I sobbed into his chest and he squeezed me tightly. I heard his heartbeat, but it sounded uneven, like it was twice as fast as it should be and he was having a heart attack. I pulled back in alarm. "Your heartbeat, it's really fast and uneven, do you need a doctor?!" I panicked. "No," he answered me softly. "When we imprinted, I felt you heartbeat next to mine. I will always feel it." I put a hand against my own chest and, sure enough, felt one set of his match up perfectly. My heartbeat was literally in his chest, right next to his. I looked up at his face, astounded, and saw his small smile.

"You have to eat all of that," he told me sternly, replacing the tray on my lap. I dug in happily, gulping it all down, my appetite having returned in full force now that I didn't feel sick any more.

"Ask whatever questions you want," he said, resting his chin on his arms on the back of his chair again. I noticed he had a tattoo on his wrist.

"What's that, on your wrist?" I asked, nodding to it. He held it out to me to look at. It was shaped like an ornate weeping willow tree, curled round in a c shape. It was small but very elegant.

"It's my clan tattoo. We are all born with them, according to our clan, but only Aces and our significants can see them. My clan is the Renou clan. Maggie and Caleb are from the Jacobson clan. Their tattoo is a half-moon."
"It's good they're invisible," I told him jokingly, "because my Dad would probably disown me if he found out I was involved with a guy who had a tattoo!" He chuckled at that. I frowned at the tray, biting my lip, realising what I had implied- that I was 'involved' with Luc. I took a bite of soup-covered bread and chewed, trying to sort out the millions of questions in my head.

"Where are you from?" I asked, curious about his accent.

"I'm from Paris, France," he replied.

"What about Maggie and Caleb?"

"They are from Tennessee," replied.

"So, these 'clans', they're from all over then?" I asked.

"Yes, there are two in Paris, where I live, there's one in Prague, one in Sydney, four, well, three now, in America- Illinois and Tennessee, and two here, in London," he replied.

"Um, can you read my mind as well?" I asked tentatively.

"We will both be able to read each other's minds eventually, but it takes practice. Now, I can only sense your emotions, but we will be able to talk, sooner or later." He stopped, gauging my reaction. I was a bit shocked, but I could tell he expected me to freak out more than I did. I nodded, a little shakily, and then carried on.

"Why do we get withdrawals?"

"I will start with the imprint. When we touched, our bodies, minds, souls, whatever you want to call it, they see each other, and they see we are a perfect match. In every way, we complement each other. Together, we work better, think better, function better, sleep better…" he muttered the last one softly, not looking at me. I felt my cheeks turning pink at the mention of sleep, but then I realised how tired I was, practically swaying, and forgot what I was about to ask.

Luc took the tray off my knees and helped me lie back down under the covers. I drifted off almost immediately with my Significant by my side.

More of the plot will be revealed next chapter... (now if that doesn't make you come back, I don't know what will...)