“No.”
“Where is your partner?”
He turns back and points to one of the women sprinting across the way.
“I can get her if you’d like,” Felip says.
Time is not my friend, and I have little choice but to ask for help. Hell is coming either way, let’s hope Felip doesn’t herald it.
“No, that’s fine,” I grit out. “I need you to find El Lobo. Take him to burn the giants’ barracks.”
He nods but lingers, looking at Melisa. I remember the things he whispered with Rodrigo and their cutting team. My blood heats.
After a minute, he says, “I didn’t know she was yours. “ It sounds like an apology.
Melisa, however, is not impressed.
"It shouldn't fucking matter if I was his or not," she snarls at him, gripping my arm tighter.
He tightens his lips, nods, and then turns and leaves.
“Forgive me again, Ra’Sa… and Melisa,” Felip says before hurrying away.
Nicolás remains, and I give him a sad look. “Melisa, this is Nicolás. We worked to gether in the lumber yards.”
She nods. “Hello.”
“Hello,” Nicolás nods back, but his eyes scan the carnage behind the den. I wonder if he looks for Abet.
“I didn’t know about Abet. I swear,” he says softly, still not looking at me.
I frown. “I didn’t either.”
Nicolás’s eyes meet mine, and I find them full of determination. “What do you need?”
“Deep in the woods, past the bodies, there is a cabin. We will send the women there. Go, prepare the space. I will meet you soon,” I say.
Nicolás nods and then makes his way into the forest. He steps carefully over the remnants of the fence, past the bodies and the blood.
I wonder what he thinks.
"Ra'Sa,” Melisa whispers, pulling me away from my thoughts. “I am sorry about your friend, too.”
When I look at her, the song hums between us. Insistent and strong.
“Thank you," I say, holding her close. I stroke her soft hair. She folds into me. It eases the strain on my body.
When I look up at the horizon, it has already started to turn pink and bright. Dawn approaches.
It brings danger—a colossal task.
Her hand strokes my arm.
I take a deep breath of her scent. Then another.
The song increases. It sings of our matehood—our divine blessing long since repressed by the magic that molded my face into a human’s. From loss, abundance will emerge.
"Do you hear that?" I ask.