CHAPTER 49: TRAPPED

Rong Ye kept his eyes closed, though sleep had long since left him. The pain in his wrists and ankles was constant, not unbearable, but enough to remind him, with every slightest movement, that he was still tied up.

And the worst part was, he didn’t even know why.

The hooded man’s voice still echoed in his mind.

"You are the son of a man who has caused much harm."

That phrase had only opened a wound that Rong Ye believed was already healed.

He had never met his father. He only had a vague image, made up of the loose scraps his mother had refused to sew together: a brilliant scientist who had died under dubious circumstances. Nothing more. A figure defined more by his absence than by any real memory.

His mother never spoke of him.

Never.

And yet, there he was, the stranger who had held him captive, accusing that man of being the cause of so much harm. What did he know?

Rong Ye forced himself to take a deep breath, but as soon as he did, the memory came flooding back: the clandestine lab, the sound of sterile metal, the monitors flickering in the darkness. And the voices of his half-siblings.

He didn’t need to close his eyes to see them. They were there, lurking in some corner of his memory, ready to emerge when he let his guard down. The words they’d said to him. The things they’d done to him. The pain they’d caused him.

The voice of his captor echoed in his mind again, and with it, a pang shot through his chest.

What if his father had been involved in the Butchers’ experiments?

What if everything—the pain, the betrayal, even his bond with Blackwood—had been nothing more than a chain started by his father?

He felt nauseous.

It was then that he heard the door open.

The same man from before returned, this time without a bowl. He carried only a metal cup containing what Rong Ye assumed was water. He gently closed the door behind him and walked toward him without saying a word.

He knelt beside him and brought the glass to his lips. Rong Ye looked at him for a moment, suspicious, but his thirst overpowered his pride. He drank. Sip after sip. When he’d had enough, he tilted his head slightly, and the gesture was enough for the man to push the glass away.

For a moment, they stood like that, staring into each other’s eyes.

"Are you going to hide your face the whole time?" he asked.

It wasn’t a challenge. It was curiosity.

The man didn’t respond. He stood up, walked to the door, and stopped just before opening it.

With a soft sigh, he took off his hood.

He was younger than Rong Ye had imagined, maybe even around his own age.

Muscular, broad-shouldered, with a pronounced jaw and brown eyes that held no hostility. His dark red hair, slightly tousled, framed his face on either side.

Rong Ye watched him silently.

The man was attractive.

A rugged, untamed kind of beauty. As if its mere presence invites you to lower your guard, to bare your neck like prey to its predator.

The man held his gaze for a few more seconds. He said nothing.

Rong Ye watched him, still caught in that wild beauty, as if he had forgotten, for an instant, that he was still tied up.

"Are you going to leave without telling me your name?"

The man watched him silently, as if debating whether to answer or not. As if giving him a name would be granting him more than he should.

But finally, he spoke.

"Nolan."

The sound hung in the air for a few seconds.

And then Nolan turned around and walked out.

The door shut once more, leaving Rong Ye alone with the darkness, the damp air, and the lingering image of a face he wouldn’t soon forget.

***

Jae jolted awake, as if breaking free from a nightmare. His breath came in short gasps, his heart racing. He shot upright, drenched in sweat. The first image that struck him was Rong Ye being dragged away by a hooded figure.

"Rong Ye..." he murmured, stumbling out of bed.

He wasn’t in a dungeon or a lab. The room was rustic, bathed in the dim light that filtered through thick linen curtains.

The bed beneath him was surprisingly comfortable, layered with thick quilts and carrying a faint scent of wood and lavender.

Everything looked handmade: carved wooden furniture, shelves lined with tiny wooden toys, a rocking chair draped with a hand-knit blanket. Children’s drawings were taped to the walls.

It looked like a young boy’s room.

Jae walked to a shelf and grabbed the first object that seemed heavy enough: a small, hand-painted ceramic vase. He gripped it tightly, fear coiling through his muscles.

He scanned the room one last time, searching for another exit or any sign of danger. He knew he was probably alone, yet his heart pounded like he was walking into an ambush.

He took a deep breath.

He had no idea what he was walking into, but if there was even the slightest chance Rong Ye was in danger, he’d do whatever it took to help, even if it meant fighting with a vase.

He gritted his teeth, straightened, and forced himself to walk toward the door.

Then, cautiously, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

The rest of the cabin kept the same rustic feel: wooden floors, woven tapestries on the walls, oil lamps hanging where bulbs should’ve been. It felt warm, yet the silence made it eerie.

Jae crept forward, clutching the vase to his chest, not entirely sure how he’d defend himself if it came to that.

Just as he neared the dining room, a door swung open down the hall. Startled, Jae squeezed his eyes shut and lunged at the figure, vase raised high.

"Hey! Stop! It’s me!"

Strong hands grabbed his wrists. Jae blinked his eyes open, stunned.

"¿Caelan?"

"Yes, yes, it’s me."

Jae slowly released his grip, breath still unsteady.

"I don’t get it. The hooded guys were supposed to have kidnapped us."

"Technically, yes," Caelan said, lowering his arms. "But we’re safe. They didn’t mean any harm."

"What? What do you mean they didn’t mean to hurt us? They hit me! Knocked me out!"

Caelan smiled faintly and motioned for him to follow. They passed a small open kitchen and a long wooden table flanked by benches, arriving at a cozy space with rustic fabric sofas, an unused fireplace, and shelves crowded with books and odds and ends.

"This place is super secret. They couldn’t tell us where it was, so... they went full drama."

Jae shot him a glare.

"Drama?! I’m sore everywhere!"

Caelan burst out laughing.

"They didn’t knock me out. One of them stopped me and explained it all. Told me to stop fighting because we were already safe."

"And how did they bring you here?"

"They just blindfolded me."

Jae pressed his lips into a tight line.

"So all of that was pointless?! They could’ve just explained."

"Yeah, well... they like the drama." Caelan shrugged, as if it didn’t really matter.

Jae sighed.

"And Rong Ye? Where is he?"

"He’s probably in another room. Let’s go find him."

They began opening doors. The first led to a narrow bathroom with cracked tiles. No one was there.

Next up was a small pantry: empty shelves, dust accumulated in the corners, and a musty smell of rusted metal and damp wood.

Jae frowned, his eyes scanning the space without landing on anything.

They opened a third door to a dim room where faint light filtered through sun-bleached curtains. Empty again.

"What if he’s not here?" Jae murmured, swallowing.

"Maybe he’s somewhere else. He’s very aggressive, they could have isolated him."

Then, a woman in her fifties appeared at the end of the hallway. She walked with a poised, commanding air, her presence alone filling the space.

Her brown hair was braided neatly over one shoulder, and her eyes—also brown—settled on them with calm authority.

Jae felt an immediate, almost instinctive respect for the woman—her gaze left no doubt that she was in charge.

"Jess!" Caelan exclaimed. "Jae, this is the ’witch’ I told you about."

"I’m not a witch," the woman scoffed, shooting him a glare. Then she turned to Jae, her expression softening. "I’m truly sorry for the way you were brought here. It wasn’t how we intended it."

"It doesn’t matter. I just want to know where he is..."

"We came with someone else," Caelan cut in quickly, shooting Jae a barely noticeable warning glance. "We got separated and still haven’t found him."

Jae blinked, confused at first—but the tension in Caelan’s voice told him everything.

Rong Ye’s surname, his family, the number of people who held a grudge against them. Bringing it up could be dangerous.

He swallowed and gave a slight, silent nod, grateful for the save.

Jess frowned, her expression clouded by worry and guilt. Her gaze wavered for a moment.

"The person who came with you... isn’t here," the woman said softly.

Caelan and Jae stared at her, confused.

"But... one of the hooded men took him," Jae said, frowning.

Jess nodded, clearly uneasy.

"That was Nolan. He was supposed to bring him in too, but he got away, escaped into the woods before they could stop him. Nolan searched for hours, but never found him."

Caelan and Jae exchanged a tense look.

"We have to find him," Jae whispered.