At the bottom of the crypt were Alba and her captor huddled together, she against the wall and he covering her, like a stone. Alba was still immobilized and, although her mouth remained covered, she no longer had the desire to scream or fight, the shock left her petrified and terrified. Her head replayed over and over again the moment when Ana was dragged into the stream, especially the image of her distressed face tortured her. After a long time assimilating what had happened, she finally let the emotional charge out. The sobs replaced the morbid silence. It was then that the subject squeezed tighter the hand covering her mouth, trying to stifle the wailing.

-Shut up or you'll have us found. -The burning, stinking breath brushed her cheek, frightening her. And I swear that if it happens, I'll turn you in to be unheard alive, like the other one.

The mystery man's voice was as sharp as a knife.

Alba nodded. The last thing she needed was a second enemy, especially if he was so close. When the trembling in her body finally disappeared, the grip also stopped pressing on her mouth and silence once again reigned inside the cave. Sometimes, in the distance, the rustling of branches, caused by the wind, could be heard, but beyond that, nothing. Maybe they had already left, Alba thought. If so, it meant she could try to get home. The flash of impatience lit up his eyes and, as if he had guessed every thought in Alba's head, the man moved faster, pressing her with inordinate force against the wall. Alba let out a small gasp.

-I've seen them. They're predators that lie in wait for the slightest carelessness. Do you really think that two or three hours is enough time to assume they're gone? We don't even know who they are, let alone where they're going. Stay calm or I'll kill you myself. -He pulled out a small dagger, the length of an average hand, and placed it on Alba's stiff neck. I am a person with very little patience, brat, don't wear out what little is left of it. The night is long and many accidents can happen, do you understand?

He pressed the dagger until it made a small cut, sealing the promise with blood.

Alba covered the wound and hunched over, she didn't cry or pout as he thought would happen, which got his attention more, so he watched her more closely, focusing on what little the moon's reflection allowed him. Then he smiled as if he had discovered something great. He released the girl, walked away and sat down near the entrance of the cave, he needed to relax his muscles or he would start to get really angry, meanwhile, Alba was curling into a ball. The exhaustion on both their faces was palpable. After a couple of hours, Alba fell asleep, allowing her bitter new companion to get a better look.

As he thought, she was an attractive lady, not in the sensual sense, but in the tender one. Her face was that of a girl, which made him feel a little uncomfortable. He approached her slowly, avoiding making noise, then took off the dark cloak and covered Alba's body up to her neck, he wanted to cover her face, but she might suffocate. He glanced at her again before returning to his place, the last one, he didn't want to feel bad about himself by having sinful thoughts with her as the main character. He sharpened his senses to avoid any kind of unforeseen event and went about cleaning the sword hidden, in its leather scabbard, under some rocks.

The icy wind accompanied the moon's walk until it was hidden, giving way to its natural enemy, the sun. As time progressed, the rays of the burning star enlivened the colors of the forest, as well as the fauna in it, especially the fluttering birds that brightened the surroundings with their beautiful songs, and, were it not for the bowels carried away by the current of the stream, one would think the place was peaceful. Though if we went back in time, the belief would be an irrefutable fact.

Curled up in a fetal position, Alba was still clinging to the tender arms of drowsiness, until a faint scent tickled her nose. Flesh. She sat up. In the middle of the crypt was a fire pit bounded by a ring of small rocks, on the sides, there were two logs embedded in the earth, the top of them had a small opening, where the branch rested with the rabbit embedded in the middle, like a skewer. The meat was almost ready to be removed from the scorching fire. Absorbed in the golden pieces of the rabbit, Alba approached little by little, foreseeing the arrival of the other at every opportunity, once attached to the fire, she took the branch and removed it from the fire. She was starving. Just a little bite, she thought. And just before she gave it to him, curmudgeon, so nicknamed because of his insufferable temper, appeared. He wore a black cloak and hood, plus a piece of cloth that covered half of his face. The only thing visible were his strange blue eyes, slightly combined with a rather light green color, no, it looked more like a stain, a brushstroke. -That's mine," he warned. He dropped three rabbits near Alba's legs. Apprehensive, she returned the stolen items to their place and went back to the corner of the cave, ignoring the man's peculiarity. She was too hungry to stand still and watch the other tasting, so she picked up the smaller stones around her and began to gather them into a ring similar to the one curmudgeon made. The few branches she found right there were insufficient to light a fire, leaving her on embers, now she had to go out in search of a few more, plus some animal not so difficult to capture. She got up and walked past the curmudgeon, who stopped her by grabbing her wrist. Alba gasped. -Here. -If you don't finish it, I will, so try to swallow it quickly. Finishing his speech, he released her. The aggressiveness in his treatment and the constant threats that flowed from his lips created a deep fear in Alba, but not on this occasion. Instead of returning to the corner, she sat down next to him, at first she made a bad face and refused to stay by his side, as if she was afraid of catching some strange disease from Alba, so she settled down at the other end of the fire and began to peel the remaining rabbits. Fed up with the suffocating silence, he opened his mouth: -Your name... what is it? -he asked hesitantly. Alba stopped his hand just before tasting the juicy meat. She had no desire to speak, but, by not doing so, the probability of dying at the hands of the bitter man in front of her was high. She swallowed saliva and said his name without haste. You know, where I come from, people who are asked their name, usually do the same out of politeness. -What is your name, my lord? -The submissiveness in her voice made the man smile, although such a gesture did not last long. After a few minutes, Alba took a look at him. The fellow's forehead was furrowed and his eyes were lost; which made her guess that whatever words came out of his mouth were a vile fallacy. He stuffed a strip of meat into his mouth, then another and another, until the fifth time was the man's voice sounded again. -Bruno de Grijalva. -The tone of his voice was a mixture of pride and doubt, perhaps he regretted the name he had chosen or the surname, who knows. From the inside of his cloak he took out a boot with liquid that he drank before speaking again. Tell me, de la Rosa, do your people usually travel when the sun begins to set? Or do they travel at night? Alba's golden eyes met Bruno's brushed ones. The contact startled her and she lowered her head again. -Not everyone. Only merchants and the wealthy. -Each word was spoken very slowly. It was torture for Alba to hear his voice and, although she tried to spit out the sentence, lack of habit made it difficult. Bruno observed the stiffness in Alba's limbs, which was curious, but the undertone of her response was more so. Bruno's head was filled with possible causes that the assassins had to act so aggressively, at first he thought they were facing spies coming from Galarda, although the possibility was not discarded, it no longer had the same strength, being replaced by villagers fed up with oppression eager for revenge. The last proposal had Alba's support.

With agile movements Bruno impaled the rabbit on the branch and began to roast it. His stomach was already beginning to rumble; however, the wait for his meal was just beginning. Alba didn't have the heart to continue gobbling the meat he had shredded, so he extended the cloth for her to take what was left, obviously she didn't accept it; however, the demand of her guts was stronger than pride or grief. The first thing to be removed was the hood of the cloak, exhibiting beautiful red hair that fell to her shoulders like a waterfall, and then the face cloth. Alba, focused on the strips of flesh she took earlier, looked up after seeing the cloth consumed in the fire. Her peaceful eyes trembled and every faction on her face contracted. It's him, Alba thought. Don't let him get you. Her stomach churned and, though she tried, she ended up vomiting, splashed the toe of her shoes and the flames of the bonfire died out; from one second to the next the calm atmosphere was replaced by a chaotic and senseless one. Bruno grabbed the back of Alba's neck and forced her head up, he was furious as well as hungry and the urge to use his fists was blowing down the back of his neck. The determination that Alba built inside the mansion was corrupted and now all she wanted to do was run away, find a hole and hide, like a rat. She knew she would soon be subdued and all she had left was to try to fight, in her exasperation she grabbed hold of Bruno's hair and began to pull on it. The man raised the huge, thick hand and then dropped it on one of Alba's plump cheeks. The collision produced a pitiful sound. Alba's head barely moved from the powerful grip on her neck; blood dripped from the corner of her lip, contrasting with her white skin, though it too was beginning to turn pink. The pain and stinging made her open her eyes wider, finding Bruno's disjointed face, her guts twisted again, increasing the pain that was already gestated inside her. The tears were not long in coming, nor were the cries of despair. Without contemplation, he covered Alba's mouth and pressed it shut. -Shit, what's wrong with you, you fucking brat? -he asked in bewilderment. Alba's memories clouded the little sanity she had left, she started kicking and scratching Bruno, who was about to slap her again, but was unable to do so after a stone hit his face, he fell on his buttocks, stunned; Alba took the opportunity to stand up and run to the entrance, unfortunately, Bruno grabbed her by the ankle. A shriek came from her lips after receiving the impact in the abdomen, running out of air. Seeing Alba's body cringing and trembling brought back memories of when her father disciplined her older brother, at least he had been gentle. At the point of tugging and pushing, he pulled her into the corner of the crypt. From Alba's mouth came only almost inaudible agonized moans and more blood. There was nothing left of her pretty face, now it was just a patchy, reddened piece of flesh. -Hey, hey, look at me, you brat," she demanded. He held her jaw and shook her, but the more he did so, the tighter she clenched her eyelids, refusing to give in. You've already proven that my patience has a limit, so obey, damn it. Despite his fear, he continued to evade Bruno's demand, and before he opened his mouth again, she beat him to it. -Mercy, Master Juan," she sobbed. -Master Juan? Hey, brat, look at me. -This time he cradled her swollen face. God, I've never met a more stubborn woman. Look at me, I'm Bruno de Grijalva, not that Juan you're afraid of. Come on, just open your eyes, brat, the fuse of my patience is about to burn out again, don't let it. Alba's protective instinct towards herself manifested itself, acquiescing accordingly. The color of her eyes was dulled by the red all around, it seemed that blood would gush mercilessly. Bruno was mesmerized. Throughout twenty-three winters, he had never experienced such excitement, in fact, just now he felt like a strange and ugly creature being watched by a crowd of horrified people. Yes, he was, on many occasions, the object of the cries of abundant women, and with each one his lower muscles stood up like ramparts, but nothing compared to this, and neither was it the translucent pearls sliding down Alba's cheeks, but her herself. It inflamed him to see her wounded, broken and, perhaps, corrupted. -I won't run away, I swear. -Alba's broken voice brought him back to reality. Please don't lock me up, please. Bruno's heart was wrapped in long, heavy, burning chains, reviving his original plan. He would no longer ask for recompense from his family, instead, he would deliver it to Leech; the acclaimed Nordic pimp of fetishes even rarer than his own. He stroked the injured cheek with the back of his hand. -Don't worry. I'll be sure to get you to safety.

It didn't matter who he trampled, harmed, deprived or perverted as long as he managed to stay away from his family. That was the path Bruno was clinging to. To live within four walls with luxuries, huge patios and precious stones in every corner? It would be hypocritical to say that he would not love it; however, the price to pay for enjoying so much was unacceptable to him. He would never accept to wear the crown of Las Brisas in this life, nor in any other.