Lykos ✓

Chapter Two | Thread

Rafael wasn't sure if he could be considered lucky in this moment. The soft thud of her heartbeat continued in a stabilised rhythm, from what he heard from the other side of the door. He has rushed the fragile girl to the only doctor he could trust, his brother, in hopes she would survive.

Micah Lykos had studied many forms of medicine in many lifetimes. If there was anyone more qualified out there, Rafael would be sure to kill them. His brother was the best, but even then, he couldn't stop her body from going into recovery mode.

Rafael had stopped pacing outside the door once he had heard that she had been stabilised. He had to control the urge to march in and demand what was going on, but Micah had strict rules. One of those rules was he was not allowed inside when he demanded it. Rafael's wolf hadn't taken the demands kindly the first time he had been ordered out, which was a couple of hundred years ago, but once he explained that Rafael can sometimes distract him with the power radiating off him, he begrudgingly accepted. It was for the best and as a leader he needed to make sacrifices.

And not only the human type.

Micah was not surprised to see Rafael standing directly outside his surgery's door. The soaked girl had been rushed in moments after Rafael had mind-linked Micah to let him know he needed to prepare himself for a patient.

Micah had many surgeries around the world, due to the many lifetimes he lived, with forged papers. He even had one built in his family home for unforeseen circumstances like this and other moments when the human authorities would get suspicious of any injured men. There were only so many strings you could pull as a private benefactor, because people started asking too many questions, and the last thing they both needed was a reason to invite people to their doors.

Rafael didn't bother asking his brother about her condition. He had many times seen a victim of abuse as the bruises came into light when he entered him home. The medically induced coma would help heal, but unfortunately there was a high chance she would refuse to return to the real world and rather stay stuck somewhere between death and living.

Sort of liking holding hands with Death but not following his lead.

Rafael's wolf urged him to go closer to the girl. It was the first time he took a proper look at the girl. Her Asian heritage was prominent, now that her hair was out of her face. Her skin light beneath the bruises that littered her body but the most distinguished feature was a a scar that ran from the bottom of her right eye, down her cheek. Rafael found himself tracing the white line. It must've been a painful injury by the depth of the line, however it was done with such precision that this girl must've been held down.

Rafael had his face share of injuries, but not any scar. Due to the blood that ran through his veins, he always managed to heal as if he had not sustained an injury in the first place. However it did not matter.

Some scars run deeper than surface.

Micah cleared his throat, causing Rafael to drop his hand. In that short time he had changed out his scrubs.

"Rafael, check the inside of her right wrist," Micah spoke in Greek, their home language.

Rafael turned lifted her arm and checked to see what had caught his attention. On the inside of her bony wrist was a coin size branding. The burn was old but still Rafael could make out who the symbol belonged to.

"The Japanese Mafia," Rafael confirmed for Micah. Despite the mafia belonging to the whole family, each brother did their own thing. Only Rafael really took note of the politics that resided in the underground world, but that was only because he owned this continent. He was after all the most powerful man around.

"I thought the deal was between the Germans and the Russians. It's still surprising that they wanted to even work together after those couple of world wars," Micah commented. It was one of the few moment that the family had actually taken interest in human politics. They were so destructive and idiotic. The only reason they would go extinct was probably going to be because of their own hand.

"Yes, such traditionalist. They're still using the archaic method of branding people. Haven't they heard of tattoo parlours?" Rafael quirked. 

"Very funny," Micah drily remarked. There methods were archaic because they were probably still as ruthless as they were when they last encountered them, which was probably just over a hundred years ago.

"I know, but what I don't know is why was she the only one in the crate, where is the rest of the cargo and what the fuck were the Russian and Germans doing with her?" Not many things puzzled Rafael and he loved puzzles, so when he found one he would keep going at it, until it was solved.

The current solution was that she was some sort of gift or something for one of the underbosses but a little mystery fun never harm anyone.

"You probably already know the answer." Micah knew his brother. He was bored and that never was quite a good thing, and now that he had found a thread to follow, he would obsess over it until he got to the end. It didn't matter that he already knew the answer that was waiting for him at the end, it was all about the 'adventure'.

Or in Rafael's case, the bloodshed.

"Well it's settled, I need to find out what happens to this poor girl," Rafael replied. He pulled on his leather jacket and was ready to go out into the passing storm. His wolf wanted blood and this was the perfect excuse anyway. He just had to ignore the fact that he had already killed 30 men and now was itching to spill some more blood. The itch was too much and he needed to get it scratched.

"Rafael, be careful," Micah called out from the top of the stairs.

"You know I always am." Rafael smirked and disappeared into the storm.

~*~
Where is Rafael going?