Chapter VI (Edited)
The first thing that caught my attention about the new stranger, was his eyes.
A simple term for the colour would have been to call them grey. Yet the distinction somehow fell flat, their depths so much more than a simple, boring shade that brought to mind a slab of stone. No, his eyes were like liquid silver that had been warped – moulded into a polished suit of armour that guarded his emotions and humanity from view.
I would have said his eyes were intense – intimidating were it not for the black framed spectacles that protected us mere mortals from his powerful gaze.
"Nice of you to finally join us Owen." I tore my attention away from the male in front of me, to see Sean smirking at him as he closed the door. The stranger – whom I was guessing had to be, Owen – turned his head and cast Sean an unimpressed look in response, giving me the chance to further analyse him.
He stood slightly taller than Sean and was average in build, with a tapered waist and long legs almost undefinable beneath his sharp grey trousers and stark white shirt. His clothes were tailored, meaning this male was from a wealthy family, something that made me leary of him.
My brows furrowed at the sight of a long piece of silky purple material hanging from the collar of his shirt, but I couldn't deny how it added to his sharp appearance.
Swallowing against the gentle flutter in my stomach, I lifted my gaze back to his face – taking point to keep away from his penetrating eyes. The stranger whilst average in build and height, had a chiselled jawline and defined cheekbones that only added to his aristocratic appearance. His short brown hair was combed away from his face, soft and silky in texture.
Everything about him, from his commanding aura – down to the way he held himself – screamed superiority – and the realisation left a sour taste in my mouth.
He reminded me far too much of my father.
"I did not realise I was on a time limit Healer Green." Owen responded, clearly apathetic as he stared at Sean, who was smirking at the male.
"It's not very polite to keep a lady waiting, I would have thought better of you for that." Sean shook his head, amusement shining in his eyes as he stepped up beside Owen and slapped him on the shoulder.
My eyes widened the action, and I held my breath as I slowly glanced up to see exasperation lining the noble males' features. He lifted a hand, and I froze momentarily, fear rising at the thought of the kind healer being punished for stepping out of line.
A flash of panic consumed me, and before I could clearly think through my next action – I jumped up and placed myself in front of Sean, ignoring the flush of exhaustion that left my limbs shaking.
"P-please, he meant n-no d-disrespect sir!" I cried, slamming my eyes shut when Owen's hand froze, expecting the blow to fall upon me.
The room seemed to hold its breath as I cowered beneath the powerful male, my heart held in a vice as I struggled to draw air into my lungs and hold my panic at bay. Flashes of my stepmother lashing out at me, the pain from her hits making my body flinch as if I was back in the basement, locked in a cell as she tormented me.
But as slow seconds passed, the flashes faded as did the realisation that I felt no pain from a recent blow. Blinking my eyes open slightly, I braced myself for the visual of an angry male. Instead the regal stranger stared down at me – his molten armour absent from his steely gaze as he looked up me in horror.
I fought a flinch as his expression smoothed out – his guard slamming back into place over his eyes as he caught my gaze, and I straightened from my stance – noticing his hands were by his side – no sign of an impending attack tensing his muscles.
It was as if I had imagined the emotion shining down at me, and I questioned briefly if I had seen only what I had wanted to. Shaking my head, I stepped away from the males – suddenly conscious of the thin gown that covered my otherwise naked body from view.
Stumbling over to the cot, I grabbed the blanket and wrapped it back around me – feeling slightly more secure within its warmth.
"Sang." Sean whispered, and I glanced over at the male who looked at me wide-eyed – his facial expression flickering between disbelief and shock. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I watched him, seemingly at war with himself. Shaking his head, his blonde curls bouncing - Sean seemed to come to a decision as he moved towards me – and I tensed.
Noticing my reaction, he paused and waited until my shoulders relaxed before slowly continuing to shuffle in my direction, his hands held slightly outstretched – palms up in the universal sign of peace.
"Sang." He repeated and he stopped a few feet away. "Owen... he wasn't going to hurt me." He swore, his eyes imploring me to believe him. Flicking my eyes to said-male behind him – I eyed Owen – unsure if I believed Sean – knowing and understanding the fear that came from a male such as he. Sean could have simply been protecting him – to protect himself from punishment if he dared speak otherwise.
Yet, a part of me wanted to believe him. To believe this strange male was kind – and would not maim or injure because he felt insulted.
Owen stood still; his expression shuttered as he watched us from near the door. I tore my gaze away, confused as to why Owen did not try to convince me himself.
Maybe the notion was above him. Maybe I was so inconsequential to this male that he didn't bother- didn't care what I thought of him.
The thought was a sobering one, and I straightened my shoulders – refusing to be the weak female the step-monster had tried to create.
I had promised myself to be strong – and here I was cowering beneath another. Disappointed in myself, I nodded at Sean – to convey that I believed him, not that I did.
But Sean obviously saw past the surface of my agreement, as he stepped forward, and gently laid a hand on top of mine, that was clenched around the edge of the blanket. I jumped at the touch of his warm hand on mind – and I wondered if I would ever be comfortable around a soft touch, or if I would always be expecting the pain that had always in the past – followed.
"Owen would never hurt me, and he would definitely never lay a hand on a female. He is an honourable male Sang." Lifting my head, I searched his green eyes for any sign of deceit – but only found honestly shining back at me.
Sean had only been kind and honest so far, so I decided I would do my best to trust him – even though disbelief still lingered. But only time would tell if this male was truly honourable.
"One more thing before we start." Sean said, and I frowned – curious as to what he meant by 'start'. "Please, never ever place yourself in danger. It's my place to protect you Sang, not the other way around." My eyes widened at his words, and I stepped back – a multitude of emotions rising to the surface in response to his gentle proclamation.
Only one other person had ever claimed it was their duty to protect me.
No one else had ever cared enough.
Yet, this Healer – who was practically a stranger – wanted to protect me.
It was inconceivable.
"I... I don't understand." I whispered.
Sean smiled at me, his expression softening as he reached towards me to pull me into a hug – his movements exaggerated as to give me time to pull away. Instead I let him pull me forward, wrapping his arms around my tense body.
"No one will ever hurt you again, not as long as you are with us." His voice rang out with conviction, his arms tightening around me as if through his hug alone – he could make his words true.
A lump formed in my throat, and tears filled my eyes as I gripped the Healer's shoulders – his words and offered comfort a balm to my weary and tired soul.
Forcing a deep breath into my lungs, I pulled away after a few moments – knowing I might be tempted to stay in the security of his arms forever if I didn't.
Clearing his throat, Sean took a step back and moved towards the cot, patting the empty spot beside him as he took a seat. Casting a look at Owen, I startled when I noticed him now sitting in the lone chair beside the desk and realised, he must have moved whilst Sean comforted me.
Shaking my head, I stepped towards the cot and took a seat beside Sean, this time keeping half of my focus on the cold male.
"Miss Sang." My head snapped over to Owen, who was leaning forward in the chair – his hands folded neatly in his lap as he met my gaze. I tried not to flinch beneath his commanding attention, and instead focused on a spot above his eyes, knowing I would struggle to speak with him otherwise. "I would like to start off by apologising to you." My eyebrows rose at his statement, and I reared back, shocked.
He wanted to apologise to me. Had I hit my head at some point and passed out?
Maybe my mind had finally snapped, and I was still lying in the cell back home – awaiting the next time my step-monster would grace me with her latest punishment.
This is the second male to apologise to me, and I wasn't sure how to feel about it.
Oblivious to my inner dialogue, Owen continued speaking.
"I know you may not believe me, and for that I deeply regret that we have given you no reason to trust otherwise. But I am hoping, with an explanation on the series of events that led to your wrongful imprisonment – you may be willing to give us another chance to gain your trust."
I was stunned by his statement, and my eyes narrowed in suspicion at the seemingly apathetic expression on the noble male's face.
He was joking, right?
Why would he care what I thought of them? I was no one. A noble man would never regret his actions – even if they were horribly wrongful. No, this male was playing some sort of game – he wanted something from me.
But I decided to listen as he continued speaking.
"It would be better, if I were to first start by explaining who we are. My name is Sir Owen Blackbourne, and I lead a team of eight other males – some of whom I believe you have already met. I work for an organisation called the 'Academy"." My eyebrows shot up when he mentioned the Academy, something I had heard Nathan mention before. I shivered at the reminder of who they were taking me to see – an organisation that would see me dead before believing my innocence.
Biting my bottom lip, I fought the fear that rose at the thought of my impending death.
Concentrate Sang, this may be the information you need to earn your freedom.
Swallowing, I focused back on Sir Blackbourne - unsurprised to hear that the cold male worked for them or that he was the one currently in charge.
This male could be my damnation or my salvation.
I wanted to laugh at myself for the thought – he would see me punished before he even considered the notion of my innocence. It did not matter that he claimed he was sorry, noble males were nothing other than brilliant liars.
As if sensing my depressing thoughts, a warm calloused hand entangled with mine, startling me into looking over at Sean. He offered me a warm smile, his green eyes kind and gentle as he squeezed my hand. How did he know exactly what I needed?
Whatever the answer, the gesture somewhat loosened the tension in my shoulders
Or maybe I was just cynical.
And that was the problem. Spending most of my life trapped in a cell waiting to be punished by the people who were supposed to love me, had left me with an inability to trust or believe in anything good.
Dropping my eyes, I ignored my inner struggle and turned back to Sir Blackbourne.
A name that was far more fitting than simply Owen. It was disrespectful to call a male of his calibre by his given name, and I'd rather not ruin any chances I had by insulting the male – even mentally.
"Whilst I am not able to go into much detail about the Academy, I can inform you that we are an undisclosed part of the authorities. Keeping that in mind, three nights ago – we received intel about four males who had recently been reported as missing in surrounding areas. Whilst this is not completely abnormal in current times, it was noted that this had not been the first time. When we were tasked with looking into the matter, it was discovered that a high number of males – all within a certain age range had been going missing for far longer than anyone had realised." Flinching at the mention of all the males my father and stepmother had been taking, I was not surprised to hear that their activities had been noticed.
What did surprise me was that it had taken this long for the authorities to do something about it.
After all, my stepmother was very impulsive, and somehow, I couldn't believe she would have been good at hiding her tracks.
A gentle squeeze to my hand, helped me refocus.
"I'm sorry if this is hard for you Miss Sang. Would you prefer if I let you rest before we continue?" Sir Blackbourne offered, his lips dropping into a small frown as he watched me.
Flushing beneath his keen observation of my discomfort, I shook my head in denial – knowing now he had started, I needed to hear the full story. There was no way I would be able to relax, not now I had the chance to hear the truth.
"As you wish... As I was saying, when we discovered the full picture of what was transpiring, we waited and observed to see if this would happen again. On the night we discovered your... father trying to take a male that fit the description of the previous males, we were able to detain him for questioning." I froze beneath the truth of my father's involvement. The familiar sorrow and pain grasped my heart in a tight knuckled fist, squeezing until I struggled to draw air into my lungs.
I shouldn't have been surprised with the truth of the part he played in the prisoner's abduction. But a part of me had hoped that my stepmother was the one who dragged them here, forcing my father to participate and protect her.
Though he was the one to drag them down into the pit of the basement, forcing them into cages as the rest of us laid and watched – I had still believed he had to have some compassion – otherwise how could he have been the same male who used to rock me to sleep. How could he still be the father that tucked me into bed when I was ill or kissed my scrapped knees when I fell whilst in the garden playing.
How could he be the male my mother had fallen in love with and married?
I might not have many good memories of him, but I held onto the one's I did – hoping to see a glimpse of the male I had called my father.
But faced with this truth, my heart shattered into tiny pieces leaving me with a broken and useless beating organ.
I had nothing left to hold onto.
I had no mother.
No father – not one that mattered anyway.
Brandon was lying somewhere – broken and sleeping – probably wishing he had never found me.
I had no hope for a life of freedom.
What was the point?