11. Pedro
Pedro
“Tell me what you need,” I ask, cautiously running my hand down her arm from behind as she steps into my room first. I have no idea what she’s thinking right now or what this whole situation with that terrifying grip is about.
A guardian, she said? The hunters?
Alin had briefly mentioned her release from the Hunters’ pod before, but Bay hadn’t said too much about what happened there, just how she got sent there.
Judging by Alin’s expression, she seemed just as surprised by everything going on here.
What the hell did Bay go through that she never talks about?
“I need that fucking Guardian out of my head. Can you help with that?” she breaks the silence, her voice dripping with venom, her eyes and lips still swollen and red from crying.
I turn her to face me, raising an eyebrow as I look at her. “I’m here to help you; I’m not your enemy, Bay.”
“I’m sorry,” she replies so softly that I’m not sure if I imagined it. “His grip on me is exhausting. I’m fighting him in my mind every moment, doing everything I can to keep him from taking over again. I can’t think clearly.”
My heart tightens in my chest, and I instinctively pull her into my arms, wrapping her in my embrace as we stand there in silence.
The soft morning sunlight filters through the glass wall overlooking the city, casting a warm glow over us, but it does little to ease the ache in my chest. I know I shouldn’t, but she needs me—she’s standing so quietly, looking so vulnerable, like she’s carried this weight alone for too long.
I feel a sharp sting of frustration rising within me—frustration that I can’t fix this, can’t make it all go away.
It’s the first time she’s opened up like this, truly exposed—her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, so raw and unguarded.
I feel my heart pounding harder in my chest, a fierce surge of protectiveness coursing through me— I won’t let anyone harm this fragile thing I’m holding in my arms . I won’t let her suffer alone.
She lifts her head slightly, meeting my gaze with those deep amethyst eyes, still wet, shimmering with a silent plea—a desperate hope that I’ll offer her some kind of solution, a way out of this. My fists clench in frustration, powerless to give her what she so desperately needs.
I exhale softly, my shoulders sinking in defeat as I gently guide her toward the bed, leading her carefully to sit down. I settle beside her, taking a spot just close enough to feel her warmth, but far enough that she can breathe—far enough that I’m not crowding her.
The tension in the air hums between us, thick with both longing and dread. I want to fix this, to take her pain away, but I know—right now, I can’t. All I can do is hold her, be here for her. And maybe, in some way, that’s enough—for now.
“The Guardian?” I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on hers as I reach to hold her trembling hand.
“It’s hard to explain…” she whispers, breaking our gaze and focusing on the bathroom door across the room, as if staring down her own demons.
No. Not again. Panic rises as I wave a hand in front of her eyes, checking that she’s still with me.
A tired smile tugs at her lips, followed by a soft chuckle. Her lips—even though still red from crying—are so perfectly shaped they look almost painted. Work of art.
“You’re laughing?” I say with a mock frown. “You don’t seem to remember how you were stuck here last night like you were possessed by a demon.”
She smooths her fingers over my furrowed brows, letting out a quiet laugh, easing the tension with a single touch.
My pulse quickens as I feel a shiver shoot through me, and my gaze drops to her half-smiling lips.
I silently curse myself for not keeping my distance; she’s family, and I can’t risk this.
“I’m still waiting for an answer,” I remind her, gently lowering her hand and holding it, grounding myself from the spell her touch cast over me.
“The Guardian… he’s the water dragon connected to the Coral of Life,” she finally explains.
I raise an eyebrow, and she elaborates, “the Coral of Life sustains the power of all royal bloodlines in the oceans. They draw their strength from it.” She takes a shaky breath, then continues, “The hunters have to capture humans, usually sailors, once a month to feed it their souls.”
My breath catches. Did I hear right?
I’ve known blood and violence all my life—murder, drugs, prostitution—but I’ve never heard of anything so savage. “Sending traitors to hunt innocent people just to maintain royal power?”
She nods as I realize I’d spoken the question aloud.
“Alin said you gained your freedom, though,” I press, still reeling from what she’s told me. How did they manage to turn someone so full of life, so na?ve, into a killer?
“We thought so,” she murmurs, swallowing hard, her gaze distant, “but we realized it’s something far worse…”
I can see she’s balancing on a razor’s edge, about to snap, but I need to understand. “The Guardian?” I press again, my voice slipping into an edge of frustration I don’t mean.
She stares at me for a moment, and the storm in her eyes breaks as she reveals a truth that sends rage boiling through my veins, telling me everything.
“I’m that Sacred Bride,” she whispers in conclusion.
I clench my fists tightly. That fucking creature can keep dreaming.
“We’re not leaving this room until Alin comes back with answers,” I tell her, making it clear. “And I’ll lock the door if anything happens again.”
“You’re in danger here if you stay with me,” she warns, but I shake my head.
“I’m not going anywhere. You’re not facing this alone.” I hold her face, turning her gaze to meet mine. But suddenly, her eyes glaze over, her expression hardening between my hands.
“Bay?” I ask,frantically placing a finger under her nose to ensure she’s breathing. Her face has gone pale. “Not again…” I mutter, fumbling for the earplugs in my pocket and grabbing the shooting-range ear covers from my backpack. Better safe than sorry.
She sits before me, motionless and silent, her breathing so faint that I’m afraid any wrong move might shatter her, like a fragile porcelain doll.
Her eyes don’t blink, even as a single tear falls down her cheek, trailing to her chin. I swear I’ll kill that piece of shit.
Rage wraps around me, reminding me of how powerless I am against their world. I still know nothing, and I certainly have no way of diving to the ocean depth with Alin to hunt that delusional sushi.
Another tear slips from her eye, and I carefully wipe it away, wondering if her voice will once again dominate the room. My heart races faster in my chest as I wait. Am I scared?
“Bay, if you can hear me, I’m still here. I’m not leaving you,” I lean closer to her face, gently placing my hands on either side of her head and raise my voice, as if she’s far away from me. I have to pull her out of this torment. Think harder.
A warm liquid wets my hand, and my body tenses as my eyes land on the light stream of blood trickling from her right ear. My heart pounds violently now—I’m not sure if I’m more terrified of the situation or of the pain she must be enduring.
Alin freed her from the grip with her voice—maybe music is what she needs?
I quickly reach into my bag, pulling out my phone’s earbuds from their case.
My fingers frantically search YouTube for anything resembling a calm symphony with high enough tones.
I shift the ear covers on my ears, pull out just one earplug, and listen for a moment.
It sounds right, I think. I cover my ears again, gently wipe the blood from her ear with my finger, and place the earbuds in.
I hit play and crank up the volume to the max, knowing this is a wild experiment, but I have to try everything.
Suddenly, her lips part slightly, and a soft breath escapes them. “Bay?” I call out, nearly jumping in place. Maybe it worked.
“Bay?” I ask again when she doesn’t respond, but still, no sound comes from her.
Her eyes suddenly begin to glow in that familiar color, only to flicker out in an instant.
Again, like lights struggling to stay on, her eyes flash, dim, and flash again.
Realization hits me—Bay is fighting him.
The music might not have freed her completely, but it seems to have given her enough control back.
A small glimmer of hope rises in my chest that I might be able to hold her here until Alin returns, without any more problems.
“You’re strong, Bay, don’t let him break you,” I say aloud again, encouraging her even though I have no idea if the porcelain doll before me can even hear my voice.
I turn around instantly when a hand touches my shoulder, and I’m startled to see Cora’s face staring back at me.
I quickly remove the ear covers and earplugs. “What are you doing here?” I ask, panic rising in my voice. Could Bay affect her too? Or is it only men? I’m not taking any chances.
“You need to get out of here now,” I tell her before she can answer.
“I called for you guys several times, but no one answered, so I came in,” she says, her gaze now falling on Bay’s unresponsive face. “What happened to her?” she asks with a high-pitched shriek that stings after the silence of the ear covers, causing me to wince.
“It’s a long story, but if you’re not going to leave, at least put these on,” I hand her another pair of earplugs, knowing that Cora is more stubborn than all of us combined when she wants something. There’s no time for arguments now.
“We just have to wait until she comes back to us,” I add as she gives me a questioning look, though she’s already shoving one earplug into her ear.
“Cora?” Bay’s faint voice instantly turns our heads toward her. Cora moves to approach, but I stop her with my hand, preventing her from getting any closer.
“Bay? Are you okay?” I ask cautiously, unsure if it’s really Bay who’s returned or if she’s going to act strangely again.
“Yeah, what is this music?” she asks with a half-smile as she pulls out the earbuds as if they were nothing more than dirt in her ears.
That tired smile reassures me that it’s really her.
She has a lot to learn about what the land has to offer.
I release the long breath I’ve been holding, and with it, my grip on Cora relaxes.
I move closer to Bay on the bed as Cora kneels by her feet, asking, “What’s going on here? ” Directing the question to Bay now.
“What is that music? I could hear it even through his control. It helped me balance myself against his voice,” Bay tells me, a look of satisfaction in her eyes as if it’s the first time she’s managed to do that. A small spark of pride ignites in my chest—I actually helped her.
Cora’s throat clears from beside us, breaking the tension, and Bay takes her hand, looking at her with an apologetic expression for ignoring her earlier question.
“You didn’t do any damage this time, but your ears were bleeding,” I inform her, and she immediately glances at the bloodstained earbud still in her hand.
“This is the first time it wasn’t one of his illusions—I’m actually bleeding,” she says, fear now washing over her face. “His grip on me is getting stronger.”
“Alin and I won’t let that happen, you can be sure of that,” I promise her, resting her head on my shoulder, fighting the urge to lean in closer, to inhale the scent of her hair, to caress her soft, pale skin. I have to control myself—she’s not mine.
“And I won’t let it happen either, if you’d fill me in on what’s going on here?” Cora presses again.
Yeah, stubbornness is definitely her middle name.