Lucas' POV
"No," I replied, feeling confused. "Why?"
"She's a rogue," Dr. Jafar stated flatly. "Found by soldiers in the garbage dump. No name, no memory. Just… nothing. Alpha Finn wanted me to restore her memory, but it's so damaged that it's beyond repair. And to be honest, for girls like her, sometimes it's just better off being broken than mended."
I closed my eyes briefly. Of course. Another lost soul in this forsaken place.
"Why does he abuse her?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Jafar shrugged, his expression distant. "In Mediland, kindness requires a reason. Cruelty doesn't. He abuses her simply because he feels like doing it."
His words hung in the air like a curse. I thought of all the times I'd been beaten and degraded by Jalin in the prison. And now the girl was enduring the same fate.
"She's just a child," I whispered.
Jafar's gaze softened slightly, though it was fleeting. "We all have our ordeals to bear, Lucian. Some of us just bear them better than others."
I clenched my jaw, anger rising within me. "You don't understand—"
"No," he interrupted, his tone sharp. "I do understand. I didn't adapt well when I first came here either. But this is Mediland. People like her… they're everywhere. Broken, alone, with nothing left but pain and fear. All the conventions we get used to in the Kingdom can't be applied in Mediland. This is the land of outlaws and rogues. If we want to make it in this place, we have to keep our head down all the time and mind our own business. Taking Alpha Finn's maid to clinic at night isn't something that people like you should do."
He paused, looking at the girl with an unreadable expression. "Trust me. It's easier to stop caring."
I flinched at his words, as if he'd struck me. How could he say that? How could anyone become so numb to suffering?
Jafar turned back to me, his voice softening. "You're kind, Alpha Lucas. But I'm afraid you can't fight madness with kindness."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand, silencing me.
"Don't waste your pity on her," he said. "She's no longer a child and she's Finn's property now. Whatever happens to her… it's none of your concern."
The words cut deep, but I didn't let them show. Instead, I stepped closer to the table, my fingers brushing against the girl's cold hand.
"She is my concern," I said quietly.
Dr. Jafar shook his head, a mixture of frustration and sorrow in his eyes. "Alpha, you're going to get yourself killed one day, trying to save everyone."
I didn't respond. There was no point in arguing with him. He wouldn't understand.
He reached for a syringe on the counter, the vial glinting in the dim light. "This will help with the pain," he said, injecting the liquid into the girl's arm. "She'll sleep for a while, but she needs to be back to her place now."
I nodded, watching as her eyelids fluttered closed. She looked so small and defenseless.
The scene of Finn brutally beating her flashed in my mind.
My chest started throbbing again.
Why did it hurt so much? Why did I care so deeply for someone who wasn't even mine?
"I'll take her back," I said. "Where does she stay?"
Dr. Jafar shook his head. "She stays in the Grove. If I were you, I wouldn't go there by myself. Alpha Finn gets really sensitive about his toys being touched by others. I'll ask a soldier to take her back."
--
The days dragged on like an endless loop of torment, each second stretching into eternity. Every time I closed my eyes, Leah's face swam before me, her features blurred by the tears I refused to shed. Since that fateful night at the slave market, the ache inside me had grown unbearable, a gnawing void that no amount of distraction could fill. I was a shell of myself, a hollowed-out husk that barely resembled the man I once was.
Finn's orders had kept me busy, managing the slave market and overseeing Mediland's operations. But even the most mundane tasks felt like a burden, a cruel reminder of my helplessness. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was failing her—that I was failing us both. The thought of Leah, somewhere out there in the vast expanse of humanity, tormented me beyond measure. I knew she was alive; I could feel it in my bones. But without a clue of where to begin, I was trapped in a cycle of despair, my mind spiraling into darkness with every passing hour.
The night Finn left for the northern border, the air felt heavier than usual. His departure should have been a relief, but instead, it left me adrift, untethered from even the semblance of purpose. I wandered aimlessly through the corridors of the estate, my footsteps echoing in the silence. The moon hung low in the sky, its pale light filtering through the cracks in the shutters, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
As I drifted into an uneasy sleep, the moon's silver glow seeped into my dreams, bringing with it the figure of the Moon Goddess. Her presence was suffocating, her voice a harsh whip cracking against my conscience.
"You've done nothing," she accused, her words slicing through me like a blade. "Weakness defines you now. You are nothing but a shadow of your former self."
I tried to speak, to defend myself, but my voice caught in my throat. "I'm weak," I admitted, my chest tightening with guilt. "I have no strength, no heart, no sense of Leah. I can't protect anyone."
The Moon Goddess' eyes blazed with fury. She grabbed me by the throat, her grip unrelenting. "Weakness is an excuse," she growled. "It is the refuge of cowards who refuse to see what they already possess."
Her words lingered in my mind as I jolted awake, gasping for air. My clothes were torn, my body slick with sweat. The memory of the Goddess' accusation burned in my soul, a branding iron searing my flesh. I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling as I scrolled through the photos I'd taken in Finn's study. The images of the enhancement project flashed before me, a beacon of hope in the darkness.