To Defend A Bride (Entangled with the Enduar #3)

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

MELISA

T he small, two-room den is dark, but I can see the girls huddled around Coco in the corner. What surprises me is seeing Griselda sitting behind them, holding them close. No sooner than Ra’Sa casting a spell light into the air that I see my mother’s face, haunted with worry and fear.

She looks so frail, so fragile. But then, Griselda looks up at us, and her gaze heats.

"You have brought death, outsider," she spits out as Coco and the girls head straight to their mother.

"I have come to help you find freedom," Ra’Sa retorts.

Griselda says nothing for a long minute. "You speak of freedom, but you know little about being enslaved. I see you are not one of us. You are a monster."

"Quiet," I cut out.

Griselda bites her tongue, but lets out an indignant huff.

“We need to leave the pens,” Ra’Sa continues. "You can go with Melisa and the girls, or stay here. But be warned, the dawn heralds a new day, and it will be a bloody, harsh day indeed."

I look up at my Enduar, feeling the tension thicken in the room. Every second that my mother doesn’t respond makes my hands grow more clammy.

“Griselda, you can't stay here," I plead, voice cracking on the last word.

A part of me is surprised at my reaction. My mind was firmly against her… but my heart? Some part of my heart still belongs to the young girl who wanted a mother and prayed that one day, Griselda would wake up and change.

But watching her not choose me again makes my skin crawl.

"I will do whatever I want," Griselda responds, chin high.

It’s like a punch to my gut.

I step forward. "You hate me so much that you don't even wish to come to a new life? A better life?"

Griselda tracks my movements carefully but doesn’t speak.

Silence.

This is a wound that has been poorly stitched up time after time. Ra’Sa nudges me through our bond—he wants to step in, to smooth over the hurt so clearly radiating between us, but I push him back.

"A better life?" Griselda starts, standing. "There is no place on this earth that would offer peace to a human. I will not lay on my back for the Enduares in exchange for food and shelter. I would rather die here than suffer in the depths of hell."

I’m shocked.

You don't need to hear this, Ra’Sa tells me.

Except I do. Because maybe then, I can let go. All the years of neglect. It was as if I’d been hollowed out, taking the warmth I’d had once known. A million memories tumble through the cracks in my thoughts.

“Do you despise me that much? For so long, you told me that I shouldn’t be a mother because I wasn’t cut out for it. But I tore myself apart, brick by brick, and crossed the land to come back for my girls,” I grieve. “It’s made me realize, maybe I’m not the unfit one.”

I remember all the years wanting my mother’s approval, only to be given insults. Each image is filled with shame. Heartache. Despair. I thought it was my fault.

But now I know she was responsible for her actions. I can’t fix her. I can’t make her understand me.

It kills me.

Griselda's eyes glisten in the light.

“So that’s it. I helped you, and now you paint me as some awful person?” she rants.

A part of me cringes away from the rage in her voice, but another part, one supported by my mate stands tall.

“You gave me food, brushed my hair, and told me stories, but you refused the one thing I ever truly wanted.” My eyes burn as tears well up.

“And what was that?” Griselda sneers.

“ Love . Your voice is the voice in my head that calls me a whore, that endlessly berates me, that has made me believe I deserved the broken life I was given,” I grit out.

“Where is this coming from? Does the monster poison your thoughts? I loved you well enough.” Griselda glares at Ra’Sa.

“But you didn’t! Love doesn’t look like this—this is hatred. Resentment. I don’t believe you ever even wanted me,” I sob.

Griselda looks like she would burn me to the ground if she could.

“How dare you say that to me. If I was so awful—so severe with my words that they turned into the cruel voice in your head—why couldn’t I prevent you from coming home with two babies mere months before you left my house to become a whore? If I governed your life with such an iron fist, why are you in such chaos?” Griselda spits as if she were a viper spewing venom.

I open my mouth and let out a long, disconnected breath as each of my mother’s daggered words pierce the last remnants of my hope.

"I have loved my daughters since the moment they were born. I stayed away because I was desperate. Now, I regret it . ” I say through the tears on my cheeks.

Griselda remains sitting, grinding her teeth. “If I am so horrid, then go. Take them, and let me properly mourn the loss of my family," Griselda says.

Even after everything, her words hurt.

They shouldn’t.

But they strike true, knocking all the breath from my lungs.

Ra’Sa touches my back, and I see the girls tucked against Coco.

It strikes me that Ra’Sa had been willing and ready to take on the daughters with which he shared no blood. And yet, the woman before me, who had given me her own blood, casts me out as if I were nothing.

"Lita?" Wren says, and Griselda shakes her head.

"Let me die peacefully in my own home, away from those who would accuse me.”

The word ‘please’ sits on my tongue. Instead, I burn the bridge between us. I turn around, wiping my face and gesturing for my daughters.

Together, we walk out. The girls are confused by the quiet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to explain what happened.

The door closes behind us, and more rays of pink appear over the horizon. Ra’Sa pulls me close.

“Lita no viene?” ? 1 Wren asks.

I shake my head.

“Mamá—”

“Did you see that bird?” Ra’Sa interjects, drawing the questions away from me. I feel his worry but have little to offer in terms of comfort.

Since I’ve known him, so much tragedy and goodness have entered my life. He walks alongside me, putting Thea and Wren down so they can hug my legs. Coco trots next to us, curious but unaffected.

It is only me who mourns silently. Perhaps it is madness to grieve a mother who was never truly mine.

But I’d sooner tame a bear than control my own heart. I let the feelings come, watching them pass like clouds in the sky.

Snow falls quietly as we walk across the yards, and Ra’Sa guides us from the carnage to another part of the broken fence. We hike past trees and parts of the unfrozen river before we reach a dilapidated cabin.

A young man appears. He is tall and toned like a worker from the lumber yards. He grins as we approach.

“Gods, it’s strange to see you like this,” he says to my mate.

He smiles as Ra’Sa says, “I need you to watch over my family. They need to eat and rest.”

He looks at me and the twins, and his eyes widen. Then he nods and races off into the house to find something.

Ra’Sa turns to look at me. "Are you all right?"

I glance between him and the young man with light brown hair.

"I am well enough to do what needs to be done," I respond.

He nods. “Stay here, Nicolás will care for you."

I swallow thickly. "You sure you cannot stay?"

Ra’Sa shakes his head. "No, but I will return later."

Then he hesitates. “Melisa, I swear upon our matehood that I will do everything in my power to return.”

My throat closes, and I barely manage to choke out, “But…”

“But if you don’t hear from me within three turns of the sun, you must leave.”

I let out a long breath, stopping the tears before they can start. “You will come back to us as soon as you can.”

Grabbing his shirt, I pull him down and kiss him again. I savor him—beg him to return.

Once finished, I kneel to scoop up Thea and Wren. So much of them is still new to me, but they lean into me. And they reach for Ra’Sa, as if eager for the connection that flows between us all.

Starlings, he murmurs in my mind.

“Papá Rasa," Thea says. She reaches into her dress and pulls out the red stone that Ra’Sa gave her for her birthday. She holds it out to him.

“For you," she says in the human tongue.

He shakes his head, eyes wide.

"That is yours."

She waits. “It will help.”

“Mine, too," Wren says quickly, also handing her stone.

His throat bobs, letting a few tears run down his cheeks.

“Gracias,” ? 2 he says quietly.

Then he kisses.

“Goodbye,” I choke.

For now, he promises.

Dawn is coming. Fighting is coming. Blood, carnage, and death.

“Strength, friend,” the one called Nicolás calls to my mate.

Then Ra’Sa walks away, carrying half my heart with him.