Whoever that young woman was, she was stubborn as hell. Her defiance was palpable, like the crisp salt air of the sea. She had subjected herself to drowning and mermaid venom just to escape me. I act tough—I know I do. But beneath that veneer, I am not as unshakable as I appear. I hate everything I am and everything I do. Her repeated attempts to flee, had chipped away at my resolve, exposing my vulnerability.

It had been two days since I had brought her aboard Naka, though Haos had strangely insisted on carrying her. The sensation of her weight in my arms had been jarring—heavy, like a stormy sea. It was my first physical touch in twenty years, and I would have cried if not for the grim circumstances that surrounded it. Her warmth had seeped through the cold of the ocean, a stark contrast to the icy chill of my own isolation.

Naka and Haos had gone off to... somewhere, their absence leaving a strange void. I was more than certain I didn't want to know where they had gone or, worse, what they were doing. On the third day at Elias's castle, I found myself sitting beside the woman, peering at her with a mixture of curiosity and torment. Her hair, as dark as a raven's wing, framed her face in a cascade of glossy silk, while her eyes, icy and unyielding, seemed to pierce through the very fabric of my soul.

Even with her eyelids closed, I saw those eyes—an echo of frozen storm clouds. Her touch had been unexpectedly warm, even submerged in the frigid water, a sharp contrast to the cold that had settled within me. She had lashes that seemed to invite envy, soft fingers, a sprinkling of freckles, and skin unmarked by scars—at least, none visible. The creatures had inflicted their brutality on her, and her clothes, once clean, were now stained with blood at some places, and ripped at the others.

I couldn't bring myself to touch her again, an intimacy that had become foreign over time. I had to ask Elias for help. Despite her beauty, the act of touching her felt like stepping into a strange and distant world. As she slept, I saw in her the reflection of my own internal conflict. Her uncertainty about herself was palpable—unlike my own self-doubt which revolved around my personality and emotions, hers seemed to be rooted in her physical self.

My gaze drifted over her body. She was larger than me, but I had always found that to be more appealing. Her curves, the softness of her form, and the gentle lines of her body were perfect in their own way. She possessed all the attributes I had once found beautiful: a fuller chest, plump lips, soft skin, a rounder stomach, and ample thighs. Everything about her exuded a delicate softness, a stark contrast to the harshness of her circumstances.

I wondered about the source of her hatred. It had gnawed at me, keeping me awake during the past two nights. How could a woman so seemingly pure harbor so much anger? How could someone who appeared to love everyone hate me so deeply? I knew the first part of it—she was enraged because I had destroyed her people. But she didn't know the full story.

A knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts.

"Yes?" I called into the empty space. The door creaked open to reveal Isla, holding two steaming cups of coffee. The aroma of fresh coffee—rich, earthy, and comforting—filled the room, a brief respite from my turmoil. I smiled softly as she handed me a mug, the warmth from the cup seeping into my hands, and asked:

"Do you think she will wake up soon?"

Elias glanced at me, his curiosity evident. I hadn't had the chance to explain the full plan to them yet.

"Any moment now. You should probably go for a bath," Isla suggested, her smile warm and inviting.

I took a second to sniff a little and laughed softly. "Sorry," I said,

Elias chuckled; his tone laced with amusement. "No worries. Go wash up and take care of yourself before we leave."

I nodded, grateful for their support, and thanked them before heading to my room

***
The bathwater was growing cold, the once soothing heat now fading into a colder embrace, when a knock on the door announced:

"She's awake." My heart leaped at the news. I scrambled out of the bath, the chill of the air on my damp skin urging me into motion. I quickly dressed, the fabric of my clothes feeling rough against my skin compared to the warmth of the bath. Elias followed me, his footsteps steady, his presence a grounding force. I started walking faster before his deep voice cut through the air.

"Phoebe!" he called, his voice pulling me back to fond memories. For a fleeting moment, I was a child again, running beneath the brilliant sun, laughter echoing as we explored our land together. Elias caught up with me, his voice filled with concern. "Before you go inside, you need to know something. There's something in her... something powerful. Her eyes glowed when she woke up, like a lightning strike."

I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I'll fill you in on everything later. For now, I need to see her." Elias gave a soft, understanding smile and nodded, falling back into step beside me as he had always done.

                                             ***

Inside the room, the woman lay on the bed, her presence a stark contrast to the room's opulence. The bedclothes, though fine, seemed to contrast with her disheveled state—her hair a tangled mess and her eyes, holding a guarded expression. I was surprised she hadn't retorted with more hostility, still drained as I asked:

"What's your name?"

"Trouble?" she responded, her voice a dry rasp as she shifted on the bed.

"I'm not in the mood to play," I said, my voice firm but weary.

"You never are," she shot back, a hint of bitterness in her tone. Elias coughed, likely his way of signaling her that her attitude was noted. He and Isla remained in the room, their presence a silent promise of support if she became agitated. They must have sensed the same undercurrent of tension I felt.

"What's. Your. Name."

"Sorana," she said coolly, omitting her last name as if it was a detail she could dismiss.

"How old are you?"

"22." Her youth was jarring against the weariness etched into her features. I struggled to remember my own life at that age, feeling ancient by comparison.

"Do you remember what happened?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the storm of emotions within me.

"I remember running, then being chased and grabbed by the red dragon—Haos. A-and then he threw me into the ocean and... there were hands pulling me down." Her recount was vivid, her fear palpable. It struck me that Haos had revealed his name to her—something he hadn't done for me until weeks later.

"He told you, his name?" I asked, my voice tinged with disbelief.

"Yes...?" Her response was hesitant, perhaps sensing the underlying tension in my question. I'd needed to discuss this with Haos before we left.

"Okay. Thanks for answering my questions without trying to run. I want you to know that you're not here to be killed. I'll explain what I can later. For now, you can use my room and take a bath. I have some discussions to attend to before we leave. I'll assign someone to guard you, but they won't harm you. Get some rest, and we'll talk more later." Sorana nodded, her gratitude evident as she replied:

"Thank you." before I turned and closed the door behind me.

                                     ***

I reached the sea twenty minutes later to meet with Naka and Haos, the sand cool beneath my bare feet as I sat, letting grains slip through my fingers. The sound of the waves was a rhythmic lull, a calming backdrop to my inner chaos. I didn't fully understand why I had shunned physical contact for twenty years—until now. I knew the starting point: the loss of Sila, my love, for the sin of loving another woman . I had watched as the structure she was on collapsed, her life ending in a tragic spectacle—an image of suffering burned into my memory. I was the architect of that horror, a monster branded by my actions.

My fault.

MY FAULT.

I'm a monster.

M-O-N-S-T-E-R.

M 

O 

N 

S 

T 

E 

R

Tears streamed down my face, unbidden and raw. Normally, I reserved my grief for the dead of night, but now, I let it flow freely. This search brought back some buried emotions and memory. I was pretty sure it would be the cause of my death too.

This was why Sorana hated me. This was why I avoided confronting my own demons. Death had become a familiar companion over the centuries. I wanted to be reminded, punished by the very psychopath who made me watch Sila's demise and then condemned me to eternal suffering. I couldn't end my own life; Elias couldn't kill me; I was trapped in a relentless cycle of torment.

My hands trembled, my breath coming in ragged bursts. The heat of my emotions made my skin feel like it was on fire—I HATE MYSELF.

I yearned for light, for someone who wanted my company. I craved a touch, an "I love you." I wanted someone who would care, who would understand, who would hold me in my darkest moments. I needed someone to catch me in my fall.

The ground trembled beneath me, the vibrations traveling through the sand like a heartbeat. In the blink of an eye, Naka's head rested gently on my legs, her presence a soothing balm against the turmoil churning inside me. Haos, sensing the need for space, retreated, leaving us in a silent cocoon.

"I love you, Phee. Don't cry. Who made you cry? If it's that girl, she's been warned. I swear to the gods..." Naka's voice resonated in my mind, her tone both tender and protective.

"I love you too. And it's not her." I felt a slight shift in Naka's mental presence, her concern palpable as she tilted her head inquisitively.

"Who is it then?" she asked softly, her mental voice tinged with worry.

"Me." The weight of my own admission hung heavily between us. Nakaligtas, warm and comforting against my skin, looked at me with eyes full of sadness, a mirror to my own grief.

"I thought we'd moved past this long ago," she said, her voice a gentle caress in my thoughts.

"It's just a lot right now," I replied, my voice cracking as I wiped away the lingering tears with the back of my hand, the salty remnants stinging my skin. Naka remained by my side, her presence a constant, unwavering comfort. We lay there together, the soft rustling of the sand beneath us a calming backdrop to our shared silence. It took nearly twenty minutes for me to regain enough composure to speak again. "How are you feeling? Has the pregnancy started to affect you yet?"

"Not physically. We're feeling the changes in our bond, though. We can't seem to stay apart. At least, he can't," Naka explained, her words infused with a faint, mirthful edge. I could almost feel the warmth of her laughter as she shared it with me through our connection. I reached out and gently rubbed between her ears, the texture of her a soothing contrast to the emotional storm within me. "He's being extra protective. The instinct has already kicked in."

"Obviously. Haos will be Haos," I said with a small, weary laugh, my eyes still stinging from the tears that had flowed. "But that's not why I asked you both to come."

"No?" Naka's mental voice carried a note of curiosity.

"No. I needed to speak with Haos about something important, and I'll fill you in on the details later." I could sense her agreement, her mental presence a steady anchor.

She likely called Haos back to our side before responding. "Go ahead, Darling."

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Hi everyone ! Than you so much for the 111 views 💕 I hope you liked this as much as I do! I really wanted to dive into Phoenix perspective and I love were it took her character! Don't forget to share your thoughts with me if you have some! 💕