The next few days were a blur. Torrance recovered quickly, his strength returning with alarming speed. Athenia remained by his side, a silent shadow, rarely speaking to anyone but him. And me? I found myself caught in a strange dance, trying to navigate the complex web of emotions and secrets that surrounded them.
I spent most of my time at the hospital, balancing my duties as Queen of Northernglades with my… whatever this was with Torrance. Wilson, my trusted bodyguard, grew increasingly concerned. He didn't trust Torrance, and he definitely didn't trust whatever was going on with this mysterious child.
"Isabella, you need to be careful," he warned me one evening, as I prepared to return to the capital. "This man, this… Torrance. He's dangerous. I feel it."
"I know, Wilson," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "But he's not a threat to me. He… he cares about me." I hated how weak that sounded.
Wilson's jaw tightened. "Cares? Or controls? Isabella, he's been watching you for months. That's not caring, that's obsession."
His words stung, but I couldn't deny the truth in them. Torrance had been stalking me. I knew it, and yet… I couldn't bring myself to push him away. There was something about him, something magnetic, something that drew me to him despite the danger.
I sighed. "I will be careful Wilson, I promise"
I arrived at the hospital the next morning to find the atmosphere tense. Grayson was pacing, his face grim. Torrance was sitting on the edge of the bed, talking to Athenia in soft, soothing tones. I couldn't understand the words – it sounded like Italian – but I saw the worry etched on his face.
"What's wrong?" I asked, my heart pounding.
Grayson stopped pacing and ran a hand through his hair. "They're gone," he said, his voice strained.
"Who's gone? What are you talking about?"
"The numbers, Isabella. Athenia's numbers on her wrist. They are gone. Someone removed them, burned them off."
I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. "Burned them off? But… why?"
Torrance stood up, his eyes blazing with fury. "Someone found her. Someone from the cult." He spat the word like a curse.
Cult. The same cult that Torrance hunts. My blood ran cold. So, Athenia was somehow connected to one of the most dangerous organizations in the land? And now they were after her again?
"What cult?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Torrance's jaw tightened. "The Order of the Crimson Hand. They deal in… things you don't want to know about. They take children. They train them. They brand them."
He looked down at Athenia, his eyes filled with a mixture of protectiveness and rage. "They won't get her back. I won't let them."