Page 17 of Bound By Blood and Lies

She looks so small.

She looks so still.

“Fae!!!” I scream as my whole body lurches forward with relief so violent it almost drops me to my knees.

I cross the room in three long strides and drop to the side of the bed as my knees hit the floor. My hands are already shaking as they gather her blanket in my fists. I don’t think. I don’t check. I just pull, desperate to see her face, to feel her skin, to hear the smallest sound that proves she’s still alive and still breathing. As I lean over the small, curled shape, my fingers claw manically at the fabric like if I move fast enough, I can undo the last month. The bundle shifts beneath me slowly and I almost want to shout at her to move quicker.

When her face finally turns toward mine, my entire world collapses in on itself. Brown eyes. Not green. Freckles scattered across a nose that is too small, with cheeks that are hollowed and sharp from hunger. The girl staring up at me is all bone, fear and confusion. My brain refuses to process what I am seeing. It keeps searching for something familiar in her features, something that matches the image I’ve been holding onto so tightly it’s burned into the back of my skull. But it doesn’t fit. No matter how long I stare, no matter how desperately I try to force it… she never becomes Fae.

A low and wounded sound tears out of me before I can stop it as I fall back onto the floor. It is nothing like I’ve ever let anyone hear. The girl flinches, shrinking back against the thin pillow, and that’s when I see the rope biting into her wrists. Her skin is raw. Angry and bound tight enough that I know she hasn’t had the freedom to move properly in days.

“What the fuck?” Riggs appears behind me and freezes.

Victor swears under his breath in a sharp and furious voice and I hear Atlas’ breath catch over the comms.

Not because it’s not Fae, but because it’s someone’s fucking child.

The girl whimpers again, louder this time, as her shoulders tremble whilst she tries to shrink into the mattress beneath her. She pulls against the restraints, but the rope holds firm, cutting deeper into already damaged skin. My vision blurs at the edges and I think it’s the light, or the lack of it, until something warm slips down my cheek and I realise with a start that I’m crying. The tears fall heavy and relentless, betraying a weakness I didn’t author and cannot control. I swipe at them angrily with the back of my hand like I can erase the last thirty seconds out of existence. But they keep coming, blurring the small, terrified figure in front of me as my chest heaves in uneven pulls and my heart feels like it is physically breaking. I pull my legsupwards slightly so my forearms rest on my knees as I stare at her. Movement flickers at the edge of my vision as Riggs lowers himself in front of the girl. When he speaks, his voice is softer than I have ever heard it.

“Hey. You’re safe. You’re safe now,” he mumbles but she flinches anyway.

Riggs looks at me and for once there’s no humour sitting behind his eyes. No quip waiting to soften the edge of what we’ve just walked into.

“Roman…” he says quiet and uncertain like he’s not sure which version of me is in this room.

I don’t answer him, I can’t get past the tears.

Victor steps in. He crouches beside the bed and reaches for the ropes, his hands seem steady even though his jaw is tight enough to crack a tooth. The girl flinches again when he touches the knot and I feel my heart splinter even more at the sight of it. Not because she fears us, that’s expected, but because she has to fear anyone. Somewhere along the way, she had been taught that every hand that reaches out hurts.

“It’s alright,” Victor says quietly. “We’ve got you.”

There’s a crackle in my ear.

“Roman, are you good?” Atlas asks in a tight voice.

I go to open my mouth, but I can’t. Silence floods the line and I push myself to my feet slowly, wiping at my face with my palm.

“Get her out of here,” I say clearing my throat. “Then we can tear this place apart.”

CHAPTER 6

ROMAN

Victor finishes working at the knots with hands that are far gentler than they have any right to be and the rope falls away from her wrists in a loose coil at his knee. The marks left behind are deep and angry on her fragile skin. Riggs shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around her shoulders without a word. The fabric swallows her small frame whole as she clutches at it like she’s not entirely convinced it won’t be taken back. I force myself to move closer.

“What’s your name?” Victor asks softly.

Her gaze darts between us before she slowly drops her eyes to the floorboards as her shoulders tremble in exhausted waves. She seems to fold inward as if making herself smaller might make the room less dangerous. We don’t rush her or crowd her and the only sound is the steady rain hammering against the roof.

“Emily,” the girl whispers at last.

“Emily,” Riggs repeats carefully. “Alright. That’s good…. That’s good.”

“Did someone hurt you?” I ask.

“Roman…” Riggs looks at me and I frown back, am I not meant to ask that? “Ignore Roman he doesn’t hang aroundhumans very often; he doesn’t know how to talk to them.” Riggs says in a stage whisper and Emily’s lips twitch.

“That’s okay,” she looks over his shoulder at me, “I don’t either. I understand.”