(Xalik)
Fragile and delicate were the words that sprang to my mind when I first saw her.
An urge to protect her overcame me, seeping into my heart and refusing to leave.
The desperation and fear on her innocent face softened me as it had never done before.
‘Protect her!’
A voice inside me, a voice not mine, a voice I didn’t recognise—sounded and compelled me to protect her.
I couldn’t let her be tainted at the hands of those devils.
I did what I could to safeguard her.
I couldn’t save everyone in this wretched place, but at least I could save her, for now.
She took care of my battered body.
She sang for me.
Her voice healed a part of me so broken and ruined that it had hardened me into the man I had become.
I could listen to her melodious singing all day long, forgetting my worries, my problems.
I had always been obsessed with butterflies, especially the silver-and-blue ones native to my lands.
SylpAzure, as we called them.
They were attributed with good luck and prosperity; appearing only at dawn, they would leave a silver trail behind them, created from shedding their silvery scales.
Whoever saw it or had that starry dust fall on them believed their deepest wish would be granted.
Zorya reminded me of them.
She and I crossed paths for a reason.
My heart had decided to protect her at every cost.
The silver collar around her neck should have been an indication that she was his sex slave.
Only the female slaves belonging to an alpha were made to wear silver collars.
Yet, my mind somehow wished to believe she was only a new addition to the medical team.
Seeing her with Caliath infuriated me.
That man was worse than Canara.
He had rejected his fated mate.
The stories of what he did to his fated mate echoed through these walls.
They pained my heart, and I couldn’t comprehend how someone could desecrate the fated mate bond.
It was revered above others.
Shifters held the mate bond as sacred.
But this place and the twin siblings who ruled it had turned the revered bond into a joke.
Zorya tried to hide it.
But I could see the faint bruises on her neck and around her lips. The source of this chapter is g.com.
He had abused her, and my mind conjured up the worst scenarios of what he must have done to her.
I tried to stop myself, but I still ended up asking her.
Maybe he hadn’t.
My delusional thinking…
She lowered her head and fidgeted with her hands.
My heart beat restlessly in my chest, seeing her saddened.
Quickly, I squeezed her trembling shoulder.
“You don’t have to answer…I was merely trying to reassure myself.”
I shouldn’t have.
How dumb and insensitive of me to ask such a question.
I let myself drop onto the mattress and blankly stared at the ceiling.
I needed something strong to calm my nerves.
She turned to face me.
Her face was a mask of pain and unknown emotions.
“This won’t be the end of our journeys though…”
I tried to reassure her while searching for my hidden stash of cigarettes.
“How long have you been here?” she quietly asked, and I froze for a second.
My hand halted under the hole in the mattress where I kept the cigarettes.
“Eight months,” I answered before pulling the cigarettes out.
“I am sorry,” she answered in a small voice.
“Don’t be.
It’s not your fault.” The horrors and tortures I had been put through in this hellhole flashed in front of my eyes as I lit up the lighter with one hand and cupped the cigarette with the other.
I could bear the torture, but the very thought of why I ended up here pricked at my heart.
Their smug faces.
The betrayal and my torn dignity.
I could never forget.
I snatched a deep inhale of the drugs inside the cigarette.
A calming effect should have followed, but it didn’t.
Only rage erupted in my heart.
“Do you have a family?” She keenly asked, and my eyes drifted towards her.
She was observing me over her shoulder.
Her beautiful eyes, like vast oceans, held the curiosity of a child.
“Yes.” I bitterly answered.
“I hope you get to see them again,” she whispered, tears shining in her eyes. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
Her cheek pressed into her shoulder.
Family seemed to be a sensitive topic for her.
She was human, as far as I knew, and they always killed the whole family of the girls they abducted.
Did they kill her family?
How should I even ask her this question?
I snatched in another breath of these calming drugs and extended my free hand towards her face, palming it.
Her skin was warm, soft and smooth to the touch.
Instead of pulling back, she leaned into it and closed her teary eyes.
I had no comforting words for her.
I had always struggled with interpersonal communication.
My whole life has been physical training, discipline and learning to control my ego.
How should I even comfort her?
So I changed the topic.
Maybe her mind would be diverted.
“Where did you learn to sing so peacefully?”
Her eyes opened, and she painfully smiled.
“My mother taught me.”
“Your mother appears very gifted.”
She nodded.
“She was.”
Just as I had predicted.
Her mother was dead and most likely her family too.
“And now you get to keep her voice going.
She passed on her gift.”
My words put a smile on her face.
“Thank you!
I will try.”
“Will you sing for me?
Like you did the other day?” I gently asked, placing my arm around her waist.
She melted into my touch with a nod.
Carefully, I pulled her into my arms, and she willingly came, lying down on my bicep.
Her warm and soft body pressed against mine, sending a tremor of delight through me.
Zorya began to softly sing, but there was something wrong with her throat.
It wasn’t like the last time.
It was like her throat was injured.
My eyes whipped towards her, and I blurted out.
“Is your throat hurting?”
Zorya went pale at my question.