Chapter 78 78
She blinked repeatedly, the rational part of her mind waging a losing battle against the terror that clung to her skin, seeped into her bones, and stole her breath.
“It’s me, Ana,” he said gently, taking another careful step toward her. His hands lifted slowly, palms open in surrender.
This time, she didn’t flinch. She simply stared at him wide-eyed, unblinking as though she were seeing him for the very first time.
“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Just breathe.”
He moved closer in measured, unhurried steps, calm and deliberate. Her entire focus locked onto his hands, so consumed by them that she failed to notice how close he’d come.
They were normal.
Human.
No claws. No talons. Nothing monstrous.
Harmless.
Relief loosened something in her chest but then her gaze lifted to his face, and a sharp gasp tore from her throat.
He was right in front of her. Too close. Nearly invading her personal space. And there they were those familiar green eyes. The same shades that had always brought her comfort, that had once felt like home.
“F… Fer… Fernando…” she stammered, the name breaking apart as a sob wracked her body.
Her senses crashed back all at once. Her knees buckled, strength abandoning her entirely but before she could collapse, two strong, muscular arms caught her, pulling her limp body flush against his solid frame.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently settled her onto his lap, cradling her as though she might shatter if handled too roughly. She felt fragile in his arms. Broken. And the sight of her like this tore at something deep inside him.
The agony in her eyes. The raw, paralyzing fear.
It hurt God, it hurt to see her in pain.
“Baby…” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face so he could see her clearly.
Her small hands fisted tightly into his shirt as soft, broken sobs escaped her lips. He cupped her cheek, guiding her head to rest against his chest, rocking gently back and forth slow, rhythmic movements, like one would soothe a frightened child.
“I’m here, my doll,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’m right here.”
His arms tightened around her.
“I won’t let anything hurt you. I swear it.”
“I’ll protect you.”
Now he understood.
Now he fucking understood her terror her instinctive fear of his reality. Someone from his race had destroyed her long before he ever entered her life. Her reaction wasn’t irrational.
It was survival.
If only he had known sooner.
The realization struck him like lightning, a violent thunderbolt cracking open a memory he’d buried. The night before they left his house Sofia on the floor by the main door, sobbing, spiraling into a panic attack. And beneath it all…
The scent.
A rogue.
“Fuck,” he cursed silently.
The rogue who had been there watching was the same bastard who had destroyed her.
‘Alpha, I have the file on Luna…’ Ricardo mind-linked him, trailing off.
‘Ricardo,’ Fernando snapped back sharply.
‘It’s bad.’
That was all Ricardo said, and every muscle in Fernando’s body went rigid.
He brushed his thumb over her cheek and realized her breathing had evened out. She’d fallen asleep in his arms exhausted, spent.
Carefully, he lifted her and laid her down on the bed. Before covering her, he retrieved a pair of sweats from the wardrobe and gently dressed her, making sure she was warm and comfortable. Then he tucked the duvet around her.
He kissed her forehead, lingering. His hand cupped her cheek.
“I’ll take all your pain away, my doll,” he murmured darkly. “I’ll kill that bastard slowly.”
He sealed the promise with a kiss to her chin. One last glance at her sleeping form—and then he left the room.
He went straight to his office.
Ricardo and Étienne were already there.
Ricardo sat slumped on the couch, head tipped back, eyes closed, jaw clenched tight. Étienne paced the room like a caged animal, agitation rolling off him in waves. The tension was suffocating, heavy enough to choke on.
Fernando knew whatever was in that file would not sit well with him.
He moved to his chair as Ricardo stood and handed over the folder. The deep creases etched into Ricardo’s forehead spoke volumes.
Fernando opened it.
It was a police report.
“Someone murdered Luna’s parents brutally,” Ricardo began. “Her father was stabbed repeatedly with a dagger… her mother was bound to a chair while she was forced to watch him die. When Luna’s father stopped breathing, the killer slit her mother’s throat and”
Ricardo faltered.
Fernando’s hands shook as rage ignited through him, his eyes burning as he stared at the blood-soaked photos of her parents lying lifeless.
“And?” His voice was rough, dangerous. His gaze snapped up to Ricardo.
Ricardo looked away, pained.
Étienne stepped forward instead.
“Luna was hiding in a cupboard,” he said quietly. “She saw everything. Afterward… the killer dragged her out.”
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
His Beta and Gamma his strongest men stood frozen, visibly struggling.
His heart stuttered violently in his chest.
“Fucking speak,” Fernando roared.
Étienne swallowed hard, refusing to meet his Alpha’s gaze.
“He tried to… force himself on Luna. She was thirteen,” Étienne breathed.
The words hollowed him out.
Ice flooded his veins.
“The cops arrived in time,” Étienne continued. “He didn’t finish but when Luna recognized what he was, he tried to kill her and fled. The police found her moments later, bleeding out on the bed. Those… animalistic claw marks…”
His face twisted with fury and pain.
“They rushed her to the hospital. Another minute and she would’ve died.”
“She stayed in a coma for six months,” Ricardo added quietly.
Fernando sucked in a sharp breath, realizing too late that he’d been holding it.
He turned the page.
And flinched.
The photograph showed Sofia bloody, broken as she was wheeled into the hospital.
“That motherfucker is a rogue,” Fernando snarled. “Second-in-command to Andrés.”
Andrés.
Their enemy.
A rogue Alpha building a war against him.
Red-hot fury exploded through Fernando’s veins.
The war would be brutal.
Lethal.
And no one, no one would save that bastard from him.
Hell was coming.