Of Course

The seemingly invincible man regained consciousness, only to find himself suspended midair as Liam effortlessly held him up by his throat. The man, who had attacked Agatha and was notably larger than Liam, struggled against Liam's grip, but to no avail.

Agatha couldn't fathom how Liam had found her or sensed the danger, but she was immensely grateful for his presence. He was her savior in this dire moment.

Facing Agatha with the man at his back, Liam's eyes blazed with a glimmering fury. His normally brown eyes now held a darkness deeper than the night, brimming with uncontainable rage.

The man writhed in pain, grasping at Liam's hand that was choking him. "Who... are you," he managed to choke out, struggling for breath. "Let go..."

Liam remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the man's narrowing eyes. As the man's movements began to slow, Liam swiftly threw him down to the ground. The impact made a loud thud as the body rolled a few times until it hit a nearby wall with a final crash.

The man's body lay still, and Agatha hoped that he was indeed dead. She expected Liam to leave him be, but instead, he approached the motionless figure in silence and delivered a powerful kick to the man's chest. The man grunted and grimaced, but he remained unresponsive. Liam then delved into the man's unconsciousness, and as the man began to stir, Liam's smirk held a menacing edge.

"How dare you," he whispered, the raspiness of his voice heightened by the chill of the night.

The man's eyes widened in fear as he sensed Liam's palpable anger. "Who... are you? Why are you... no—"

Liam gripped the man's jaw so tightly that he heard the bone snap. With his free hand, he conjured an icy dagger and held it nonchalantly to the man's eyes. Without hesitation, he buried the dagger's tip into the man's still-beating heart. The man's eyes widened in shock and fear, then slowly narrowed with resignation as he faced his imminent demise.

Liam tightened his grip on the man as he tried to move, twisting the dagger with a sickening crunch that elicited helpless screams from the man. He relished the taste of the man's terror and hopelessness reflected in his eyes.

As Liam's hand became wet with blood, he showed no sign of stopping. He continued to twist the dagger, ensuring the man's final journey into the Underworld. Even though the man was undoubtedly dead, Liam's expression betrayed a deep-seated dissatisfaction. He seemed unbothered by the blood, craving more punishment for the man. Liam's desire for the man's immortality to prolong his torment was evident, but upon seeing Agatha's terror-stricken gaze fixed on him, he reluctantly settled for a swift and clean end to the man's life, sparing her further fear.

Turning to face Agatha, who leaned against the wall with no space to retreat, Liam took in her ruined upper garments, revealing her delicate, flawless skin. She trembled, struggling to control her unstable breathing in the aftermath of the horrifying ordeal.

With graceful, measured steps, Liam approached Agatha. He wanted to offer her comfort, to reassure her that she was safe now, but words failed him in the whirlwind of emotions—rage, guilt, and fear—that consumed him. Knowing his ineptitude with words, Liam opted for a gesture instead. He gently wrapped his arms around her, feeling her body stiffen initially before she stood motionless, allowing his embrace to envelop her small frame.

"It's alright," Liam spoke in a soft voice, warmer than the sun. "You're safe now."

Liam rubbed her arms tenderly, seeking to bring her some comfort in the aftermath of the traumatic experience. It was then that he cursed under his breath, realizing that Agatha's clothing had been ruined. Without hesitation, he removed his cloak and draped it around Agatha's shivering form, offering her warmth and protection.

Agatha found herself at a loss, her body feeling weak and vulnerable against Liam's strength. She couldn't deny the truth—he was powerful, ruthless, and moved with a menacing grace that instilled fear in her. Witnessing him kill without hesitation or flinching only deepened her apprehension. There was no denying it. Liam was a Water Fae, a formidable one at that.

As Liam reached to touch her face and wiped away her dried tears, Agatha's mind raced with realization. She couldn't even catch her breath as panic threatened to overwhelm her. The truth hit her like a tidal wave—the Water Fae were after her, and Liam was one of them.

With the little energy she had left, Agatha began to writhe under Liam's hold. She aimlessly kicked and punched at him, driven by a primal fear and desperation.

Liam leaned back, his expression pained as he hissed her name, "Aggie... What are you doing? Calm down. They're dead. You're safe now."

Despite his attempts to reassure her, Agatha was in a state of panic. She didn't feel safe. Aiden wasn't safe. They were after her, and she knew it. In her fear and desperation, she pushed Liam away and scratched his face before bolting off once he released her. She had to get away from him, no matter the cost.

Agatha hurried back into the hotspot, racing towards the third floor. Upon reaching their room and seeing Aiden sleeping peacefully, she let out a sigh of relief. Collapsing against the nearest wall, exhaustion and intense worry washed over her.

The other women in the room glanced at her with raised eyebrows, but Agatha paid them no mind. The room was divided among five of them, with Aiden being the sixth, but it was spacious enough for them all to move freely.

Although the other women didn't particularly like Agatha, she couldn't care less about their opinions. What mattered was that Aiden had a comfortable place to rest. However, the realization that they would need to move again filled her with fear.

The man she encountered was a Water Fae, and he knew where she worked. They were effectively imprisoned by him and his associates, and Agatha knew they needed to leave to ensure their safety.

Agatha's legs trembled as she made her way to the bed she shared with Aiden, finding solace in the sight of him peacefully asleep. She recalled the first time they saw the room, how Aiden's face lit up with delight despite the simplicity of the wooden bed—it was the first time he had pillows to sleep on.

Acting swiftly, Agatha took a bath, scrubbing her body until she felt raw. She wanted to rid herself of the lingering marks left by those men, even though they were now dead. Their filthy touches still haunted her.

Silent tears streamed down Agatha's cheeks as she hugged her body, urging herself to be strong—for Aiden's sake. She dressed quickly but as she prepared to leave the washing chamber, a new wave of fear washed over her. Her legs turned to jelly, and she cried silently once more, seeking solace in her own embrace. She forced herself to be quiet, not wanting anyone to see her vulnerability. In her experience, showing weakness often led to exploitation and regret, and she couldn't afford to let others see her falter.

Agatha was gripped by fear, panic, and pain, but she had no one to turn to for solace. She couldn't burden Aiden with her troubles. He was too young to understand the harsh realities of their world. She couldn't shatter his innocent view of life—it was a precious shield she couldn't bear to take away. At just eight years old, Aiden was the same age Agatha had been when she learned the world's true nature. It was a brutal place that had taken her father's life, shattered their trust, and tainted her young mind with its cruelty.

Haunted by her past, Agatha lived life on the run, a criminal wanted by the Water Fae Kingdom. She had been hiding for years, determined to shield Aiden from the same fate. She wanted to laugh bitterly at the irony. She aimed to raise him right, yet they lived in the midst of a hotspot where Aiden was exposed to adult things daily.

No matter what Agatha did, it felt like she couldn't raise Aiden properly. Her efforts seemed insufficient, constantly thwarted by circumstances beyond her control. She was a slave to her situation, unable to change it.

Agatha was at a loss. They needed to move again because the Faes already knew where she was, but where else could they go? Where would she find a place for Aiden to sleep? Where could they hide? How long could they keep running?

They had no wealth to speak of. Her Galleons was insufficient, and they were barely getting by where they were. If they left, they would struggle to find another refuge. Agatha felt like she was losing her mind. The Faes were closing in on her, and the Ravager was after Aiden. They were alone, with nowhere else to hide, unable to return home. She had only a few hours, if not seconds, to escape again.

"Aggie?" The voice was low and hoarse.

Agatha wiped her warm tears as she heard Aiden's voice from the other side of the door.

"Are you okay?" The boy whispered, his voice filled with concern.

Agatha stood up and composed herself before opening the door and looking down at the newly awakened Aiden.

"Of course," Agatha replied, lowering herself to Aiden's level and embracing his little, soft frame.

Aiden's tiny arms wrapped around her, gently patting her back. Agatha wanted to cry, but she held back with all her strength. She couldn't break down in front of Aiden.

"A-Aiden…" Agatha's voice trembled slightly as she swallowed. She faced the boy, seeing a glimmer of understanding in his blinking eyes.

"Do we have to leave again?" he asked innocently.

Agatha's heart shattered at Aiden's soft question. She hugged him tighter, feeling a surge of emotion overwhelm her.