Chapter 2 Elior
Elior
Warmth brushed through my hair, slow and soothing.
At first, I thought I was dreaming.
I floated there, half-asleep, wrapped in the dark, aware only of this gentle rhythm—fingers smoothing over my head, pausing now and then like the hand might disappear if it moved too fast.
I shifted.
The touch didn’t stop.
I opened my eyes.
For a second, the room swam into shape, and then my gaze focused.
Jace was sitting beside my bed.
Close enough that his knee brushed the mattress. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw tight, like he’d been holding himself together with sheer force of will. One hand rested in my hair, the other gripping the edge of the bed like he was afraid I might vanish if he let go.
Behind him, half in shadow, Patel stood with his arms folded loosely, back against the wall. He watched us without speaking, just a silent observer.
Before I could stop myself, a broken sound tore out of me, and my vision blurred completely.
“Daddy—” I cried.
He leaned forward instantly. “Hey, cherub. Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” His voice cracked on the last word as he stood and gathered me carefully into his arms, mindful of the IV, the wires, everything. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
I clutched at his shirt, my fingers fisted in the fabric, my whole body shaking as sobs wracked through me, ugly and unstoppable.
“I thought—” I choked. “I thought you—Father said—”
“I know,” Daddy murmured, pressing his forehead to my temple. His hand moved from my hair to cradle the back of my head, steady and sure. “He’ll never speak like that to you ever again.”
“But—but you were with them,” I wept. “I thought you left me. I thought I’d done something wrong.”
“No,” he said immediately, his grip tightening just a little.
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. I would never leave you.
Never.” He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands framing my face, the one hovering just over my skin to not touch the wound there.
“Do you hear me? You’re mine, Elior. None of this changes that. ”
I nodded desperately, even as tears spilled down my cheeks and soaked into his shirt.
“You’re safe,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.”
I buried my face against his chest, breathing him in—soap and sweat and the familiar heady musk of him that made my limbs weak with relief. My crying softened but didn’t stop, the sound breaking into hiccuping breaths as my body caught up with the truth of him being there.
“I don’t understand anything,” I murmured brokenly.
Daddy rocked me gently, his thumb tracing slow, grounding circles at my shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to understand. I’m going to take care of you, baby.”
Somewhere behind us, Patel cleared his throat, drawing Daddy’s attention. His eyes hardened, and his grip on me tightened as he turned his head to look at the man.
“What?” Daddy asked.
Patel’s eyes flicked from Daddy to me. “You should have a better understanding of what happened and what’s going to happen.”
Jace growled lowly, squeezing the back of my neck harder until I whimpered. His head whipped back around, and realizing his grip on me was too much, he released and began massaging the area gently. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His eyes were full of concern.
“It’s okay…” I whispered.
“Agbayani, you asked to be the one to explain things to him. So explain, or I will,” Patel said from his place on the wall.
Jace’s jaw flexed.
He looked down at me, then back at Patel, and for a moment I thought he might argue. Instead, he exhaled roughly, like he was forcing himself to stand down from a fight.
“Give us a minute,” he said.
Patel didn’t move. “I’m not leaving the room.”
“Don’t trust me?”
“No.”
Jace’s lips thinned with displeasure, but he nodded once. “Fine.”
His attention returned to me, softer now. He shifted so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, close enough that my knee brushed his thigh. One of his hands stayed on my arm, warm and comforting.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “I need you to listen to me, cherub. And if it gets too much, you tell me, and I’ll stop, okay?”
I nodded. My chest felt tight, like I was bracing for a hit.
“I’m an FBI agent,” he said.
“Those were the letters on the strangers’ clothes,” I noted, frowning. “What does it mean?”
Jace swallowed, clearly recalibrating. “I work with them.” He squeezed my arm gently. “We—I—work for the government. FBI stands for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. My job is to find evidence that the people whom we think are bad people are actually doing bad things. Does that make sense?”
I tried to follow, but my thoughts still moved slowly. “I think so… So you came to the Covenant to get evidence of something? You weren’t interested in the Light?”
“I’m sorry. I had to pretend. It was the only way to get in. Your father,” he said, “is a very bad man, Elior.”
The words hit me like a slap.
“No,” I said automatically. “He—he’s strict, but he—”
“I know what he’s taught you,” Jace said gently, but firmly. “And I know you love him. But he has hurt many people. He hurt you only a few hours ago, baby.”
My head shook on its own. “He was saving us. He said—”
“I know what he said,” Jace repeated, a little more strained this time.
“That’s part of how he kept control. That’s how men like him operate—how cults operate.
They pretend to be saviors, but only end up hurting the people they’re able to con into believing them.
I went there to find proof so that we can stop him—to make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else. ”
“So… everything… Meeting me. Being with me. Calling me yours.” My voice wobbled. “Was that all just part of your job? Father was right?”
“No,” he said instantly. “No. God, no.” He cupped my face just barely, his thumbs brushing away tears I hadn’t realized were falling. “Loving you was not part of the job. Caring about you was not fake. None of that was pretend, baby.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. My chest ached, heavy and hollow all at once. “Why—”
“Because it would’ve put you in danger,” he said hoarsely. “Because if your father even suspected—” He stopped himself, gritting his teeth. “Because I was trying to keep you alive. And… mine.”
I didn’t know what to do with that.
“I don’t understand.”
“I knew if I told you who I really was, you’d go to your father.”
My heart felt split down the middle—one half screaming betrayal, the other curling desperately toward him anyway, because he was still here, and Father wasn’t.
And I was scared.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t have anyone else,” I whispered.
“You have me.”
The certainty in his voice scared me more than it comforted me.
I stared at his chest, at the rise and fall of his breathing.
“Where is Father?” I asked quietly.
The room went still.
“He’s in jail,” he said.
The word echoed, strange and unreal. “Jail?”
“Yes. He’s locked up and under supervision.”
“Oh… For how long?”
Jace’s eyes darkened. “He’ll be there until the trial, then, most likely, he’ll be moved to a federal prison for the rest of his life.”
Something inside me cracked.
Collapsed.
The world I’d known, the rules I’d lived by, all of it was suddenly… gone.
Jace pulled me back against him, one hand firm between my shoulders, the other cradling my head. “You’re not alone,” he murmured into my hair. “I swear to you. I will not abandon you.”
I didn’t know if I believed him.
I tried to pull away from him, but he didn’t let me. His grip tightened to the point of hurting.
“Please let me go,” I whispered brokenly.
Jace, his grip still firm, met my eyes and said, “Never.”
Never.
Panic crawled up my spine.
“I didn’t mean—” he started, then stopped himself. I felt the shift in him, the way he reined whatever it was back in. His hold loosened a fraction, enough that I could breathe without pain, but his hands never left me. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I just… can’t lose you.”
“You already hurt me,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“How could you not have meant to?” My voice shook despite my effort to keep it steady. “You came into our home wanting to destroy it, Jace. I don’t understand how you can say you didn’t mean to.”
“Baby—”
“Please stop,” I whispered, feeling sick. “Don’t—don’t call me that. Not now. Please.”
His eyes were red and frantic. “Don’t push me away, Elior. I know you need me. You just called me Daddy a few minutes ago.”
“Because I’m confused and terrified and I—I feel like this all just has to be a bad dream. It has to be.”
“Please, Elior. I know it looks bad, but I never once lied to you about my feelings for you.”
“How am I supposed to believe that when you lied about everything else?” I pleaded.
Jace’s jaw clenched as he growled, “You’re acting like I had a choice.” His hand slid from my arm to my wrist, fingers digging into my skin a little too tightly. “You don’t understand how deep this went. If I’d done anything differently, you could be dead right now.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said, my voice barely audible.
“I was protecting you,” he went on. “Every lie, every step—I did it so you’d still be breathing. So you wouldn’t end up buried in some unmarked grave like the others he broke.”
“Stop,” I said, shaking my head. My chest felt tight, like the air had thinned. “Please stop talking about him like that. Father would never—”
“He’d never? Your m—”
“Agbayani. Not now,” Patel boomed, straightening with a look of anger on his face.
Jace turned to glare at him. “I’ve got it. Fuck. My point is,” he turned back to me, “he brainwashed and abused you. And if I hadn’t stepped in, it would’ve only gotten worse.”
“P-please go away,” I cried, getting choked up. “I just need to think. I’m sorry. It’s all just too much. Please.”
“Don’t do this, cherub.”
My pulse thudded painfully in my ears.
I felt at a loss for words as Jace’s grip tightened once more, making my fingers tingle.
I tried to pull my hand free, but he leaned closer instead, his voice dropping.
“You think anyone else is going to understand you?” he demanded.
“The world out here doesn’t know what to do with people like you, Elior.
They’ll lock you up, drug you, or tear you apart piece by piece.
I’m the only one who knows how to keep you safe. ”
My gut twisted with a sudden urge to throw up.
“That’s not—” My words tangled. “That’s not fair.”
“Jace.” Patel’s voice cut through the room like a knife. He pushed off the wall and stepped closer, his expression thunderous. “He wants you to leave.”
Jace turned, bristling. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“But it does,” Patel replied, his gaze focused on Jace’s hand on my wrist. “Let him go. This has gotten way too heated. Go home and cool off, agent.”
For a heartbeat, I thought Jace might argue. His nostrils flared, his chest heaving like he was barely containing something feral and furious.
Then, abruptly, he released me.
My arm dropped back to my side, aching.
Jace looked at my wrist, then grimaced. His eyes met mine, pleading. “Elior,” he said, softer now, like he was trying to pull me back in with nothing but my name. “I didn’t mean—”
I was quiet, the exhaustion and stress weighing on me.
After a minute, Jace stood, his chair scraping against the floor. He raked a hand through his hair, breathing hard.
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he said. “I’m sorry for hurting you. Get some sleep.”
Jace turned and stalked out of the room, the door shutting behind him with a heavy, final click.
The sound echoed.
I felt hollowed out by it.
Patel waited a moment, then approached the bed. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “That shouldn’t have gone that far.”
I nodded, though my throat felt too tight to speak.
“If you need anything,” he added, “press the call button. A nurse will come. I’ll make sure he doesn’t come back tonight.”
I nodded again.
When he left, the room felt impossibly empty.
The warmth from the two men quickly faded, leaving only the sterile chill of the hospital and the steady, indifferent beeping of machines. I stared at the wall, at the pale paint and the faint shadow of the IV pole, and tried to make sense of the wreckage inside me.
Father was gone.
The Covenant was gone.
And the man I had clung to—who had felt like safety and all things good in the world—had been lying to me from the beginning.