Chapter 7 CHAPTER 7 GUARDIAN ANGEL

Ophelia's POV

There was a guy on the ground—Ryan—completely naked and covered in blood. And standing over him with a knife was some gross-looking rogue who reeked of alcohol even from here.

My brain short-circuited for exactly half a second.

Then instinct took over.

I grabbed the first thing I could find—a rock the size of my fist—and hurled it at the rogue's head with everything I had.

CRACK.

Direct hit.

The rogue dropped like a sack of potatoes.

"Oh thank god," I breathed, dropping the second rock I'd already picked up. "I actually hit him. I never hit anything in gym class."

"That's because you have terrible hand-eye coordination," Hex said.

"Not helping!"

I took a huge breath, trying to calm my racing heart. Okay. Okay. Crisis averted. Ryan was safe. The bad guy was unconscious. Everything was fine.

Except—

I looked at Ryan again.

Still naked.

Still covered in blood.

My face went nuclear.

"Oh my god, don't look, don't look, don't look," I chanted, spinning around so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.

"You literally just saved his life," Hex pointed out. "This is not the time for modesty."

"I'm sixteen! He's fifteen! This is inappropriate!"

"He's also bleeding and half-conscious."

"Still inappropriate!"

I squeezed my eyes shut and fumbled with my belt, trying to take off my cloak without actually looking at anything. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely get the clasp undone.

Then the smell hit me.

Blood. So much blood.

My stomach lurched.

"Oh no," I whispered. "Oh no, no, no."

"What?" Hex asked urgently.

"The smell. Hex, there's so much blood." My voice came out high and panicky. "Where's it coming from? Is Ryan hurt? Did that rogue stab him? Oh god, what if he's dying?"

"Calm down—"

"I can't calm down! What if he needs a hospital? Do they even have hospitals here? What if—"

"Ophelia!" Hex's voice cut through my spiral. "The blood isn't Ryan's."

I froze. "What?"

"Most of it isn't his. Trust me."

"But where—" I turned my head slightly, catching sight of the alley entrance behind us.

The dark alley. Where the blood smell was coming from.

"Oh," I said in a very small voice.

"Yeah. Don't go in there."

"I wasn't planning to!"

"Good. Because it's bad. Like, really bad."

I really, really didn't want to know what "really bad" meant.

"Okay," I said, forcing my voice to steady. "Okay. Not thinking about the alley. Not thinking about what might be in the alley. Definitely not thinking about—"

A low groan came from behind me.

Ryan.

"Right!" I spun back around, eyes still squeezed shut, holding out my cloak. "Here! Put this on!"

Silence.

"Hey. You okay? Can you hear me?"

More silence.

"I'm not looking, I swear! I'm just—my eyes are completely closed. See? Totally closed. So you can just take the cloak and—"

"Why are you here?"

His voice was rough. Raw. Like he'd been screaming.

I kept my eyes shut. "Would you please just put on the cloak first? This is really awkward."

A pause. Then I heard rustling fabric.

"Fine," he said after a moment. "You can look now."

I cracked one eye open. Then the other.

Ryan was sitting up now, my cloak wrapped around his shoulders. It was way too small for him—barely covered his torso—but at least the important parts were hidden.

His face was streaked with dirt and blood. His black hair stuck up in every direction. Those green eyes stared at me with zero emotion.

But his hands were shaking.

"Oh," I said softly. My heart squeezed. "Hey. It's okay now."

I moved toward him slowly, like approaching a scared animal.

He tensed immediately. "Don't—"

"I'm not gonna hurt you," I said, dropping to my knees beside him. "I promise. I just wanna help."

His jaw clenched. "I don't need help."

"Yeah, you really do." I reached for his hand.

He jerked back like I'd tried to stab him. "Don't touch me."

"You—"

"I said don't!"

I froze. Then, very carefully, I reached out again. Slower this time.

My fingers brushed his.

He went completely still.

"It's okay," I said quietly. "You're safe now. I promise. Nobody's gonna hurt you."

His hand was ice cold. Shaking so hard I could feel it.

"Hey." I squeezed gently. "It's okay. You're okay."

For a long moment, he just stared at our hands. Like he couldn't quite process what was happening.

Then his shoulders started to shake.

Oh no. Was he crying?

"Hey, hey, no, don't—" I reached up and patted his back awkwardly. "It's fine! Everything's fine! You're totally fine!"

"I'm not crying," he said through gritted teeth.

"I didn't say you were!"

"I don't cry."

"Okay! Cool! Nobody's crying! We're all good!"

He was definitely crying. Or trying really hard not to. His whole body was trembling now, and he wouldn't look at me.

My chest hurt.

This was the future tyrant? This terrified kid who was falling apart in a dirty alley?

"It's okay to be scared," I said softly. "What just happened was really scary."

"I'm not scared."

"Okay."

"I'm not."

"I believe you."

He finally looked up at me. His eyes were red-rimmed and furious. "Why are you here?"

There it was again. That question.

"I, um." Think fast, Ophelia. "Would you believe me if I said I was just passing by?"

His expression didn't change. "No."

"Okay, fine." I tried for a smile. "I got lost?"

"Try again."

Damn. He wasn't buying any of this.

"Alright, alright." I sighed dramatically. "I was looking for you."

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because—" I bit my lip, trying to figure out how to explain this without sounding insane. "Because of what happened earlier. At the market. With the whole theft accusation thing."

He just stared at me.

"I felt bad," I continued, the words tumbling out faster. "Like, really bad. My dad always says if you mess up, you gotta make it right, you know? And honestly? It's been haunting me. Like, full-on guilty conscience mode."

"That's stupid," Hex said in my head.

"Shut up," I thought back.

Ryan's expression was unreadable. He just kept watching me with those cold green eyes, like he was trying to figure out if I was lying.

Which I was. Kind of.

"So yeah," I finished lamely. "I wanted to apologize properly. And make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine," he said flatly.

"You're literally covered in blood."

"It's not mine."

"That doesn't make it better!"

His jaw tightened. "You should leave."

"What? No!"

"Go back to your pack," he said, his voice getting harder. "Forget you saw me. Forget this happened."

"I'm not gonna—"

"Leave." He yanked his hand away from mine. "Now."

I sat back on my heels, frustrated. "Why are you being like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like you want me to leave when you clearly need help!"

"I don't need anything from you."

"Wait—"

"Why?" His voice suddenly got sharp. "Why did you really come looking for me?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

What was I supposed to say? 'Because you're gorgeous and I couldn't stop thinking about your cheekbones?' 'Because you're the future tyrant I'm supposed to save and you're literally my entire mission?'

Yeah, that would go over great.

"I don't know," I said finally. "I just did, okay? I wasn't gonna just leave you there."

His eyes narrowed even more. "Nobody does something for nothing."

"Maybe I'm just nice."

"Nobody's that nice."

"Well, I am!" I crossed my arms. "Sorry if that's hard for you to believe, but some people actually care about others!"

He looked away, jaw working like he was grinding his teeth.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and awkward.

I watched him for a moment. His shoulders were still tense, his hands clenched into fists. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

And then an idea hit me.

A terrible, wonderful, absolutely insane idea.

"You know what?" I said, uncrossing my arms.

He glanced at me warily. "What?"

I scooted closer. Just a little bit.

His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." I moved closer again.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" I inched forward until we were maybe a foot apart.

His whole body went rigid. "I said stop."

"Or what?" I leaned in, getting right up in his space. Close enough that I could see the gold flecks in his green eyes. Close enough to count his eyelashes.

Close enough that when I spoke, my breath ghosted across his ear.

"Then just think of me as your guardian angel or something."

He froze.

Like, completely froze. Didn't even breathe.

I pulled back just enough to see his face.

His ears were turning red.

Actually red.

"Oh my GOD," Hex shrieked in my head. "Girl, you are FLIRTING so hard right now!"

"Shh, I'm conducting an experiment," I thought back.

"An experiment in giving him a heart attack?!"

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. The future tyrant—the guy who was supposed to become a cold-blooded murderer—was blushing because I got too close.

This was amazing.

This was hilarious.

This was definitely going on my list of 'weird things that happened after I died.'

"Your ears are red," I said, unable to help myself.

"No they're not," he said immediately, but his voice came out weird. Strained.

"They totally are."

"They're not."

"They're literally the color of tomatoes right now."

He reached up to cover them with his hands, which just made it even more obvious.

I grinned. "That's so cute."

"It's not cute," he snapped, but the effect was kind of ruined by how flustered he looked. "And I'm not—stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like—like that!"

I leaned in again, slower this time, and blew softly on his ear.

Just a little puff of air.

He jerked back like I'd set him on fire. "What are you DOING?!"

"Did you just BLOW IN HIS EAR?" Hex was dying. "Oh my god, I can't—I literally can't—this is the best day of my existence!"

"Testing a theory," I said innocently.

Ryan's whole face was red now, not just his ears. "What theory?!"

"That big scary wolves are actually just shy puppies on the inside."

"I am NOT—"

I blew on his other ear.

His mouth snapped shut. His eyes went wide. And his face went from red to absolutely crimson.