Black Equation - The Hunted Ones

FOUR

"There are often things that we wish for which are not possible, and even knowing that, does not stop the wishing."

FOUR

Meric found it truly odd to see a sneer on her pretty face.

The night was cold, and the sea breeze was becoming more unruly as time ticked by, causing the flames on the dry sticks to weakly flicker. The foamy waves were threatening in the background with the increasing tide.

However, none of these mattered more than the sudden freezing contempt that the brunette emitted towards the three men that appeared above the cliff.

Why wasn't she happy that her people came to help them?

"Ophee, so this is where you are. The whole family nearly turned over the whole of Alkins looking for you," one of the three men smiled the moment they stepped down the ravine. They had ropes and belts with them, as well as spiked boots and climbing gears, fully equipped to rescue.

Two of them were middle-aged men with blond hair, both as tall as Meric, while the one who spoke appeared to be in his late twenties, slightly resembling the girl with his tawny hair and hazel-colored eyes.

The girl named Ophee had a flat expression on her exquisite face. There was neither displeasure nor anger on her face, but for some reason, Meric felt that she had deep problems with this so-called 'family' of hers.

Might she be what society coined the black sheep of the family?

Meric studied the rescuers. They didn't particularly stand out in a crowd, except for the youngest one who had what he deemed a rakish face. Seeing the close facial structures between Ophee and the man in his late twenties, they were probably blood-related, and the delicate features probably run with the genes.

What struck Meric the most was the air around them. Although the three rescuers had different body shapes, everyone was as fit as a soldier, not even sweating despite the steepness of the cliff. More baffling was their seemingly perpetual air of vigilance. It reminded him of the despicable cronies of the Hand, and this caused his hackles to rise.

The two blondes never spoke, and they were staying behind the tawny-haired man like they were guards or subordinates.

Thinking of Ophee's unreasonable queenly behavior since they've met, it might be possible that she was a daughter or heiress of some wealthy or powerful family.

"Why are you injured? What happened here? These two?" the youngest rescuer inquired with an eerily calm smile.

Ophee's smile, in return, was tinged with bitterness. "Questions can wait. The three of us could first use some professional medical attention."

"Of course, of course." The man beamed at her, before eyeing Kreuz. "I'm Brandon, by the way, and despite my age, I'm actually Ophee's uncle."

"I'm Christian Cruz," Kreuz smoothly lied, his face amiable and sunny, "and this is my friend, Falcon Williams." Then, he awkwardly touched his nose. "We may look terrible, but we can move. Actually, we were tourists who cliff-dived and were washed away here. Luckily, we were found by Ophee."

"Poor things!" Brandon looked sincerely sorry for them, but Meric had a strong feeling this wasn't so. "You can stay with us first before delivering you to the hospital."

"No, it's fine. We'll leave as soon as we climb out here--"

"Don't be shy," Brandon cut Kreuz mid-speech. "Besides, our place is the only one you'll find within the ten-kilometer radius. Better we treat you there first."