Bange for at elske

Chapter One

As night fell, the cold moon hung high in the sky. The bright moonlight fell on the ancient castle on the edge of the city, casting a mysterious silver veil around it. Emily stood on the balcony, looking at the forest in the distance, and felt a chill rising from the bottom of her heart. Since moving to this castle, her life has become bizarre and mysterious.
The cold wind in October swept across her bare shoulders, bringing a shudder. Emily subconsciously wrapped her woolen shawl tightly around her, but she couldn't feel any warmth. This castle seems to be always cold, just like its mysterious owner Lucas Black, exuding an inaccessible atmosphere.
"Miss Emily," suddenly, a low voice sounded behind her, "You'll catch a cold if you're still outside so late."
She turned around and saw Lucas standing at the balcony door. The moonlight outlined his tall figure. He was wearing a dark silk shirt, and the collar vaguely revealed his strong chest. The amber eyes flickered strangely in the darkness, as if they could see through her soul.
"Mr. Black," Emily whispered, trying to hide the trembling in her voice, "I'm just admiring the moonlight."
Lucas took a step forward, but suddenly stopped. Emily noticed that his body stiffened instantly, and his nostrils fluttered slightly, as if he was sniffing something. His expression became solemn, and a glimmer of wildness flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed.
"Please go in," his voice was hoarser than usual, "It's not safe here."
Just then, a cold night breeze swept across the balcony, bringing a faint smell of rust. Emily saw that Lucas's fingers were almost pinched into the stone railing, and his knuckles were white. She couldn't help but take a step back, her heartbeat accelerated.
"I thought this castle was the safest place," she whispered, "after all, you are here."
Lucas let out an almost inaudible growl, "Some danger, Miss Emily, is much closer than you think." His eyes looked unusually sharp in the moonlight, "especially on a full moon night."
Suddenly, a wolf howl came from the distant forest, shrill and long. Emily was surprised to find that Lucas' pupils shrank in an instant and turned into vertical pupils like a beast, but the fleeting change made her wonder if it was just an illusion caused by the moonlight.
Just then, a cold breath passed by her from behind, accompanied by a chuckle. Emily turned around and saw only a dark shadow flashing in the corner of the balcony. When she looked back again, Lucas had come to her side, with a hand gently on her shoulder.
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, with an unquestionable commanding tone in his voice. Emily noticed that his palms were surprisingly hot, in sharp contrast to the chill of the castle.
Walking in the dark corridor of the castle, Emily could feel Lucas' presence, he walked behind her like a silent guardian. Moonlight poured in through the Gothic stained glass windows, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
"Good night, Miss Emily," Lucas whispered in front of her door, "Remember, no matter what sound you hear, don't leave the room tonight."
"Why?" Emily asked subconsciously.
Lucas was silent for a moment, his eyes looked deep and dangerous in the moonlight, "Because the moonlight tonight is too beautiful, it will always wake up something that shouldn't wake up."
When the door closed behind her, Emily leaned against the door, her heartbeat still alarmingly fast. She could hear Lucas's footsteps gradually fading away, but she seemed to hear the sound of wings flapping outside the window. She walked to the window and looked out through the glass.
In the moonlit courtyard, she saw a figure standing by the fountain. The man looked up at her window, and the moonlight illuminated his pale marble face - it was Draco, with a mysterious smile on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. When Emily blinked, his figure had disappeared, as if he had never appeared. Emily lay trembling on the bed, listening to the wolf howling outside the window. She knew that she had fallen into a world full of dangers, and this was just the beginning. On this moonlit night, her fate was closely linked to two mysterious and dangerous beings, and there was no turning back.

Chapter Two

In the dead of night, Emily lay in bed, the faces of Lucas and Draco appeared in her mind. She could not resist the deep attraction, but she also knew that she was caught in a dangerous vortex. She knew that the confrontation between the two men was a life-and-death hostility, and she was just a pawn in their war. A corner of her heart reminded her to escape, but the deeper desire pulled her to stay in this mysterious castle, looking forward to the unknown encounter.

        Just as she was about to fall asleep, a slight knock on the window interrupted the silence. Emily opened her eyes, and the moonlight poured into the room through the curtains, making the corners of the room particularly dark. She sat up subconsciously, trembling slightly and walked to the window. When she opened the curtains, a figure was standing in front of her, cold and elegant.

        It was Draco.

        "Sorry, I scared you, Emily." His low voice was frivolous and indifferent, as if every word revealed his unfathomable darkness. His eyes were like two flames in the abyss, locking onto her with an irresistible force.

        "How... are you here?" Emily's heartbeat quickened, and her hands unconsciously clenched a corner of the curtain. She knew she should be scared at this moment, but Draco's unique charm made it hard for her to resist.

        Draco did not answer her question, but slowly approached, lowered his head and whispered in her ear: "You know why I'm here, Emily. You've never really been afraid of me, right?"

        The moment he approached, she smelled the cold breath on him, as if it came from the night a thousand years ago. Her breathing gradually became rapid, but she did not retreat, but was locked by his eyes, as if her soul was also attracted to him.

        "Draco... we can't do this." Her voice was weak, but she did not retreat at all, as if even she herself was struggling with contradictions.

        "You don't belong here at all, Emily. Staying here will only put you in deeper danger." Draco gently lifted her chin, with a smile on the corner of his cold mouth, that smile was both gentle and dangerous, "But if you want to know the real darkness, then come. I will take you to see everything."

        At this moment, the door was pushed open, and Lucas' figure appeared at the door like a shadow. His face was gloomy, and his eyes were burning with anger. It was his possessiveness and anger that he could not hide. He walked towards Draco step by step, his hands clenched, his muscles tensed, as if he was going to pounce on and tear the enemy in front of him in the next second.

        "Draco, let her go." Lucas' voice was low and threatening, like an enraged beast. It was the first time Emily saw him so out of control, his eyes were like a ball of unextinguishable fire, revealing uncontrollable anger and possessiveness.

        Draco smiled slightly, released Emily's chin, and looked at Lucas provocatively. "Don't you understand yet? She doesn't belong to you. The savagery of the wolf tribe is nothing but a bondage to her, and I can give her true freedom."

        "The 'freedom' you mentioned will only make her fall into darkness. You don't understand what true protection is." Lucas sneered, his eyes as sharp as an eagle. He slowly stepped forward, blocked Emily, and protected her behind him. That was his attitude as the wolf king, firm and unshakable.

        Emily was sandwiched between the two, feeling her heartbeat speed up, as if breathing became difficult. These two completely different forces intertwined and collided in front of her, making it impossible for her to decide which side to choose.

        Draco raised the corners of his mouth and slowly took a step back, his eyes still on Emily. "Emily, one day you will find that he can't satisfy the desire in your heart. And I am your true home."

        As soon as the voice fell, Draco's figure disappeared into the night, as if he had never appeared.

        Lucas looked at the empty room, his fists gradually loosened, but the anger and worry in his eyes remained. He turned around and looked at Emily softly, but his eyes still flashed with contradictions and forbearance.

        "Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, with a trace of undisguised concern in his voice.

        Emily nodded, but her heart was in turmoil and it was difficult to calm down. She knew that she had fallen too deep. She could not let go of these two men easily, nor could she easily resist them. A complex emotion surged in her heart, which was a dangerous and fatal attraction.

        "Lucas, I..." She wanted to say something, but lost her words when she met his eyes.

        "Don't get close to him." Lucas' voice was low, with a hint of pleading and warning, "I know you feel confused, but Draco is not what you think. He will only drag you into the darkness, and I won't let him hurt you."

        Emily just looked at him silently, and a touch of uncertainty gradually rose in her heart. She knew that this was not just a war, but a contest of feelings and desires. In this dangerous triangle relationship, she has gone too far and can never turn back.

Chapter Three

Emily stayed awake all night. The wind outside the window blew through the woods, making a low moan, as if the whole castle was whispering in her ear. She curled up in bed, recalling Draco's cold smile and Lucas's deep eyes. Two completely different attractions stirred in her heart, making her lost on the edge of danger and desire.

        When the sky was slightly bright, she made a decision. She had to figure out what she wanted, the wildness and protection of the wolf tribe, or the mystery and temptation of the vampire. She got up and walked out of the room, walked through the deserted corridor, and came to the door of Lucas's study.

        The door of the study was slightly open, and a whisper came from inside. Emily stood outside the door and pricked up her ears to listen.

        "She is innocent, Lucas." A low and gentle female voice came from Lucas's sister, Leila. Emily had heard rumors about her. Leila was the wisest prophet in the wolf tribe and could always see fragments of the future.

        "I know, Leila." Lucas' voice was hoarse, as if he had struggled all night, "but I can't control myself, I can't suppress my desire for her. I'm afraid that if she stays with me, she will only be swallowed by my darkness."

        Emily's heart trembled, and she raised her hand to push open the door.

        "Lucas." Her voice was abrupt and firm in the silent room.

        The two turned around and saw her standing at the door with a hint of determination in her eyes. She walked slowly towards Lucas, looked up at him, with a hint of determination and inquiry in her eyes.

        "I know you protect me, but I'm not a fragile child." Her voice was calm and firm, "I need to know the truth. Why are you always so hesitant? And why is Draco so persistent in approaching me?"

        Lucas' expression froze for a moment, his eyes wandering on her face, as if he was weighing whether to tell her everything. Finally, he took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind.

        "Emily, the fate of our werewolves is usually determined at birth. The wolf tribe has a unique ability to perceive its partner. When we find that person, we will feel an attraction that cannot be ignored... and you are my destined partner." Lucas spoke in a low voice, with pain and desire flashing in his eyes.

        Emily's heartbeat accelerated, and thousands of emotions surged in her mind, both shocked and confused. She never thought that she would become his destined partner, and his possessiveness and protectiveness of her turned out to come from this ancient bond.

        She asked softly: "What about Draco? Why is he so obsessed with me?"

        Lucas's eyes became more gloomy, and there was a hint of anger in his eyes. "Draco's tribe never believed in fate. They prefer to dominate their own future. And he believes that as long as he possesses you, he can destroy me and the traditional beliefs of the wolf tribe. So, he is not sincere to you, but to weaken my power."

        Emily's heart suddenly tightened, and a hint of anger and loss surged in her eyes. However, she also felt a little unwilling, as if she was just a tool in this struggle, being fought over and torn by the two, and she had no right to control herself.

        "So, Lucas, are you sincere? Is it just fate for me?" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, and her eyes became cold.

        Lucas was stunned, as if he was hurt by her question. He was silent for a moment before speaking: "Emily, I can't deny the existence of fate, but I can't ignore my feelings for you." He gently held her hand, his eyes full of affection and desire, "Whether it is fate or something else, I am willing to give up everything for you."

        Just then, a slight sound came from outside the window. Emily turned back suddenly and saw a pair of dark red eyes flashing outside the window, like a flame in the dark, and the familiar cold breath startled her heart.

        It was Draco.

        He stood outside the window, sneering at them, as if everything was under his control. He knocked on the window lightly, his voice cold and full of provocation: "I don't think it's possible to talk about 'betraying' everything here, Lucas. You can't protect her because she will eventually come to me."

        Lucas' eyes immediately became cold and dangerous. He stood in front of Emily, glared at Draco outside the window, and growled in a low voice: "Stay away from her, Draco. You can't force her to choose darkness."

        Draco smiled slightly, his eyes full of evil confidence. He raised his eyebrows at Emily, as if everything was under his control. "Dear Emily, you will find that the bright world cannot satisfy your desire. And darkness - is your destination." After he finished speaking, his figure instantly disappeared into the night.

        The room returned to silence, but the air was filled with tension and uneasiness. Emily looked at the empty darkness outside the window, feeling both fear and desire in her heart. She could no longer deny Draco's attraction to her, and the danger and mystery made her heart beat faster.

        Lucas noticed her hesitation, and a trace of pain and uneasiness flashed in his eyes. He gently held her hand and whispered, "Emily, don't get close to him. His darkness will devour you and make you lost in the endless night."

        She didn't respond, but just looked at him silently, her heart full of complicated emotions. She knew that she could no longer simply withdraw from the two of them. Her fate had been drawn into an uncontrollable vortex, and the only thing she could do was to follow her heart and touch the unknown darkness.

Chapter Four

As autumn deepened, the forest surrounding the castle donned a cloak of gold and crimson. Yet Emily felt none of the season's warmth. Since that night's revelation, her mind had been in constant turmoil, with Lucas's truth and Draco's temptation intertwining like two serpents in her thoughts, leaving her breathless.

        That evening, Emily found herself alone in the castle's library, searching through ancient tomes for any mention of werewolves and vampires. As she focused on a yellowed manuscript, the air suddenly turned cold. Looking up, she found Draco standing across from her, his appearance as silent as shadow.

        "Seeking truth, my dear Emily?" Draco leaned elegantly against the bookshelf, wearing a deep purple silk shirt that made his skin appear even paler. "But you know, written accounts are often one-sided."

        Emily instinctively stepped back. "Why do you always appear like this? It's unsettling."

        Draco chuckled softly, moving toward her with fluid grace. "Because I enjoy seeing you startled. It makes you even more enticing." His fingers traced her cheek, the cold touch making her shiver. "Lucas told you I'm merely using you, but did he mention that his fate is actually a chain binding him?"

        Emily froze. "What do you mean?"

        "The werewolves' so-called destined mates are nothing but constraints in their bloodline," Draco's voice carried a hypnotic power. "They're forced to love someone, forced to protect them. Isn't that tragic? While I..." his gaze deepened, "I choose you because I'm truly drawn to you."

        A low growl suddenly echoed from the doorway. Lucas stood there, his eyes now golden, filled with rage. "Step away from her, Draco!" His voice carried an unmistakable threat.

        Instead of retreating, Draco pulled Emily closer. "Why so angry, Lucas? Is it because I spoke the truth, or because you fear she might choose me?"

        The tension in the air grew thick enough to cut. Emily could feel the energy between the two men threatening to tear the room apart. Lucas's body trembled as he fought to control the beast within.

        "Enough!" Emily suddenly shouted, "What am I to both of you? Some trophy to be won?" Her voice carried both anger and hurt.

        Both men froze. Pain flashed across Lucas's eyes, while Draco's expression turned contemplative.

        Emily pushed away from Draco and walked toward the door, but paused beside Lucas. "You say I'm your destiny, but have you considered my feelings?" Her voice was soft but accusatory. "And you, Draco, if you truly cared for me, you wouldn't use me as a weapon against him."

        She hurried from the library, and only when she reached the corridor did her tears finally fall. She didn't know whom to trust - Lucas, chosen by fate, or Draco, who chose her himself? More importantly, she began to question whether she truly understood her own heart.

        As night fell, Emily stood on her balcony. Wolves howled in the distant forest, while somewhere in the castle, she thought she heard the flutter of bat wings. Everything reminded her that she stood at the crossroads between two worlds, and she had to make a choice.

        Then she noticed items on the balcony railing: a rose as black as night with a blood-red sheen - Draco's mark. Beside it lay a wolf fang necklace, a werewolf protection charm, obviously left by Lucas.

        Emily gently touched both items, her internal conflict growing stronger. She knew that choosing either would alter her destiny forever. But more importantly, she needed to understand what her heart truly desired.

        As moonlight bathed the castle grounds, Emily realized that her decision wouldn't just be about choosing between two men - it was about choosing what kind of life she wanted, and more importantly, who she wanted to become.

Chapter Five

The following days in the castle were filled with an unbearable tension. Emily found herself constantly caught between shadows and silence, between warmth and cold. Every corner seemed to hold either Lucas's protective presence or Draco's seductive whispers. The weight of their attention was becoming increasingly suffocating.

        One particularly cold morning, Emily discovered a mysterious leather-bound book in the library's restricted section. Its pages contained ancient prophecies about the eternal conflict between werewolves and vampires. As she read, her hands trembling, she found something that made her blood run cold.

        'When the moon bleeds red and the night grows teeth, a choice will be made that breaks the ancient cycle. A mortal's heart shall tip the balance, bringing either eternal darkness or salvation to both races.'

        "Interesting reading material," Leila's voice suddenly came from behind. Lucas's sister moved like a ghost, her silver eyes holding centuries of wisdom. "I've been waiting for you to find this."

        Emily closed the book carefully. "Is this... about me?"

        Leila's expression remained enigmatic. "The prophecy speaks of a mortal who stands between our worlds. But prophecies, dear Emily, are like rivers - they show the destination, but the path taken is always your choice."

        "What happens if I choose wrong?" Emily's voice wavered.

        "There is no wrong choice, only consequences," Leila replied, her voice gentle but firm. "But I must warn you - the blood moon approaches, and with it, a moment of truth that will change everything."

        Before Emily could ask more questions, a commotion erupted from the castle grounds. They rushed to the window to see Lucas and Draco facing each other in the courtyard, their postures tense with barely contained violence.

        "You've crossed the line, Draco," Lucas's voice carried up to them, filled with fury. "You dare to mark our territory?"

        Draco's laugh was cold and mocking. "Territory? This stopped being about territory the moment she arrived. Or are you afraid she's already choosing me?"

        Emily watched in horror as Lucas's form began to shift, his muscles rippling beneath his clothes. The morning sun caught his golden eyes, now burning with primal rage. Draco's own transformation was more subtle - his pale skin taking on an otherworldly sheen, his movements becoming impossibly fluid.

        "Stop!" Emily's voice rang out across the courtyard. Both men froze, their attention snapping to her window. "This has to end!"

        She turned to rush downstairs, but Leila caught her arm. "Be careful, Emily. The blood moon is three days away. Under its light, both races lose control of their darker natures. And you..." she paused meaningfully, "you will be at your most vulnerable."

        When Emily reached the courtyard, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lucas immediately moved to her side, his protective instinct evident in every motion. But it was Draco who spoke first.

        "My apologies for the disturbance, dear Emily," his voice was silk over steel. "But perhaps it's time you understood the full scope of what you're involved in." He pulled an ancient medallion from his coat. "This belongs to your grandmother. She wasn't just any woman - she was a guardian, keeper of the balance between our races."

        Emily's world tilted. "My grandmother? But she died when I was young..."

        "She was murdered," Lucas cut in, his voice heavy with old pain. "By those who wanted to destroy the peace between our kinds. And now, as her descendant, you inherit her role - and her enemies."

        The revelation hit Emily like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made more sense - the mysterious circumstances that led her to the castle, both men's intense interest in her, the prophecy. She wasn't just caught between two supernatural beings; she was part of an ancient legacy.

        "The blood moon comes," Draco said softly, his eyes locked on Emily. "And with it, powers long dormant will awaken. You'll need to choose not just between us, Emily, but between two paths for both our races."

        As if in response to his words, clouds gathered overhead, casting strange shadows across the courtyard. Emily felt something stir within her, something old and powerful, like a sleeping giant finally beginning to wake.

        Lucas moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the chill air. "Whatever you choose, Emily, know that my protection isn't just about fate or duty anymore. It's about-"

        But before he could finish, a piercing scream cut through the air. All three turned to see Leila collapsed at the castle entrance, her silver eyes wide with terror as she pointed at the sky.

        "It's coming," she gasped. "The blood moon... it's coming early. And with it, they're returning - the ones who killed your grandmother. They're coming for Emily."

        In that moment, as Emily looked between Lucas and Draco, she realized that her choice might not be about love at all - it might be about survival.

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Hans stemme, der lød som grus, sagde: "Selv hans egne mænd kaldte ham en galning. Han var grusom, tag ikke fejl af det. Han fik engang en kommandant til at spise sine egne afskårne ører drysset med salt, før han dræbte ham. Det siges, at han engang fik nogen til at spise en andens hjerte, før han også dræbte ham. Det siges endda, at han brændte en kok levende, idet han sagde, at han var en fedtet fyr, der ville stege godt." Chuckling: "Han fik den anden Edward, Blackbeard, til at ligne en skoledreng."
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Den gamle mand lænede sig frem og spurgte: "Er du bange endnu?" Hans latter rumlede dybt inde i brystet: "Ned Lowe levede for længe siden, knægt. Der er ingen grund til at være bange for ham nu."
Den tiårige Mason Hanover sugede en dyb indånding ind, før han langsomt lukkede den ud igen og ønskede, at hans hjerterytme skulle blive langsommere. "Var der slet ikke noget godt i ham, bedstefar?"
"Jo, det lader til, at da han først kom til Boston, giftede han sig med en kvinde, men hun døde, da hun fødte deres eneste barn. Selv om barnet overlevede, siger de, at tabet af hans kone havde en dyb indvirkning på ham. Han tvang aldrig gifte mænd til at slutte sig til sin besætning og tillod altid kvinder at vende sikkert tilbage til havnen, hvis de tilfældigvis var på et skib, som han var pirat."
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"Hvem vil du fortælle om næste gang, bedstefar?"
"Hvad med at jeg fortæller dig nogle historier om fyrtårnvagter ... nogle virkelige helte?"
Med et bredt grin nikkede han, og hans begejstring var tydelig i hans ansigt.
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"Hans navn lyder meget som mit."
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"Hvad har han gjort?"
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"Ti år gammel? Så gammel er jeg også! Han tog til søs?" udbrød han med store øjne af overraskelse.
Bedstefar nikkede og sagde: "Tingene var anderledes dengang, min søn. Mænd blev mænd meget tidligere end nu." Han fortsatte: "Han meldte sig, da borgerkrigen brød ud og tjente i flåden i et år, hvorefter han blev indkaldt til forskellige regimenter. Han meldte sig engang frivilligt til at bære vand bag fjendens linjer til resten af sit kompagni. Mens de værste kampe fandt sted rundt omkring ham, tog han sig af sine medsoldater. Det var dengang, han fik æresmedaljen."
Mason satte sig mere oprejst, mens hans blik blev hængende på sin bedstefar og tænkte på den modige soldat. "Tror du, at han var bange?"
"pKcuqna DeLtd $fOj&omlsL qerL ikmkQe ^bNanTgej,C dreén,g," s(varle*d'eL ZbmeÉdst)e,faSr.S "kMSezn Aemn hwe_lÉt ber enr, derk )hxapndNlher OpIå atroud&sR NafZ atd væzre bqaWnfge..n"
Han nikkede stille og tænkte, at han gerne ville være soldat en dag. Et lyn slog ned gennem himlen og oplyste rummet gennem vinduerne. Han hoppede, da den høje torden knækkede, og det lille hus rystede. Med store øjne kiggede han rundt og håbede, at huset stadig ville stå, når stormen gik over.
"Du skal ikke være bekymret," sagde bedstefar. "Dette hus har stået i hundrede år, lige her på dette sted. Ingen storm vil få det til at falde ned."
Han nikkede og troede på sin bedstefar. Han så på, hvordan den ældre mand tog en slurk af sin kaffe fra den gamle emaljerede kop, som han altid drak af. Han kunne godt lide at være her i sin bedstefars hus, hvor alt var det samme. Dag ud og dag ind vidste han præcis, hvad han ville finde, når han var her. Så anderledes end hans eget hjem.
"MKodm$ tihl Ide gpodée vsagLer, fbeXdstbef$ar!!"
Han grinede igen, men en dyb hoste rystede hans krop, og han måtte vente et øjeblik, indtil hans vejrtrækning lettede. Han rømmede sig og sagde: "Efter krigen tog han efter sin farfar og blev fyrmester. En nat satte han sit liv på spil for at redde to sømænd, der var forlist på klipperne nedenunder. Han trodsede frostgrader i en snestorm og kastede en line ud til skibet. Han fik begge søfolk af deres skib og bragte dem i sikkerhed."
"Var det der, han fik den næste medalje?"

"Ja. Han fik dengang en guldmedalje for livredning. Han er den eneste person i historien, der har fået begge disse priser. En militær og en civil for heltemod."
Med store øjne igen lænede Mason sig fremad og lyttede til hvert et ord. Han havde ikke opdaget det, men det værste af stormen udenfor var gået over, så kun regnen stadig slog mod vinduerne. Han bed sig nervøst i læben og spurgte: "Det regner stadig meget kraftigt, bedstefar. Tror du, det er i orden, hvis jeg bliver her i nat?"
Hans bedstefar satte sine gennemtrængende blå øjne på ham og nikkede langsomt. De vidste begge, at den egentlige grund til, at han ville blive, var, at hans forældre enten skændtes eller drak. Måske begge dele.
HNaPn$s søTste^r. 'skulle oFverngattQe hosR derReSsQ Xta_nGteg,h og Khban uvill(ec ilkqkPeI vwærKe alenhe phéjJemwmeC,O nå,r whanys fovrCældrGe NskæfnGdtesg.
"Ja, knægt. Jeg tror, du ville blive for våd, hvis du prøvede at gå udenfor nu. Du kan sove hos mig i nat, og så skal jeg nok få dig hjem i morgen."
En time senere lå han nusset ind under dynen på sengen i sin bedstefars soveværelse. Hans bedstemor var gået bort to år tidligere, men han huskede stadig den glæde, han følte, når han kunne tilbringe natten hos dem. Deres hus på klipperne med udsigt over havet var lille, men hyggeligt.
Dynen, der var trukket op under hans hage, var blød og en af hans yndlingsdyner. Den var blevet syet af hans bedstemor mange, mange år før. Hun havde taget gamle rester fra tøj, der for længst var slidt op, og lavet en dyne dækket af både. De klare farver var nu falmede, men det gav al den varme, han havde brug for ... sammen med hans minder om hende.
Rwegnen mFodÉ soyverværrGelsCesvFiIndu_eQts wvar nOup bareH s$tUøJvrePgn, trdødsdtweNndceÉ gsTnfarherFe KeHnRd hsnkrKæ^mmenndeD. 'HManvs bedsztefbaxr, MderF mvar( blqevet& Rfærdig cpMå pbTadeværqelBsetL, )gikj GifnJd i sovMewvFæprCelsemtx. Han lVagGd.eO siGnQe britlleYrS på !nxatfbozrdet olgM grizkó hhebné tilw !se*ng$en_, hv.or h&awn FkanæFlóeIdie* på gyulvetn.
"Har du sagt dine bønner endnu?"
"Jeg ventede på dig, bedstefar."
Hans bedstefar nikkede med hovedet, lagde sin store, grove, knudrede hånd på hans, og de bøjede sig sammen. Efter en bøn om tak for dagen og om sikkerhed for alle dem, der var ude på havet, rejste han sig op.
HanRsi ,bVedsthefaarY bmegyLnPdte att gåZ hQenI ht$iMlS csenng$eUnm,S da han xvMenadnte sBig óoJmk pogC wsNåt )nedy Vpbå khaDmc. "yJjeagL skræwmWtWe _dKigC v)el^ UiZkke forw ZmeVgWeGt (ve.d at. t)alPe om pnirra^tcerned,, velS?J"
Mason kiggede op på det kloge, gamle ansigt, som han elskede så højt, og rystede på hovedet. "Nej, jeg var ikke for bange, bedstefar. Jeg ved, at piraterne levede for længe siden, så selv om de var onde mennesker, er de her ikke længere."
"Det er rigtigt. Pirater er døde for længe siden, for mange år siden."
"De var virkelig slemme mennesker, bedstefar. Jeg er glad for, at vi ikke har nogen af den slags mere."
Hansi baekd*stepfa(rÉs a,nÉsigPtG ^fordrdejerdge! sXig et ø*jegbOlipk, sAom om Ohapn kóæsmzpNe)d.ep ymPeÉd, hjvzad hganX sgkBuqllep sig&e.A Hsan tsuUk,kéede tyunGgt XoLg LsagdIe VtiWl xsidNsit!: "Du erU vmesl iqkPke UfQomrl tungm ntilb act, Pvi!de,É !aty d_emrj BsAtNaDdjiFgp bfÉiónd^es& PondUe mennieske!rM i, _verFdBenF.p De Éehr mSåsBke ZiakkSeó pTi)rateTrN som& NeidC LowXe, méenG Wd_eurV esrj sttaCduig( noRgleZ trMi!gétcig Rsflemme ^mZenn(esckeFr i vuerIden.D *DCuD skaUln xpasseH épmå' de,mw,w o_g idkuS mskfaélM Sogsvå pbTenskytCte a&nQdPrse $meCnKneskerR,P Wdu el,sk$eyr, mod^ Qdeqmk. LigesoómF MDarUcusw HéaBninaT ._.. Dqer_ .fi.nYdeOsf all$ek tsTléaOgps dredanidnNgsGm'ændd,Z o*gL du) k!a,n Bvær)eN ligYe ksåGd(an lenf. E,np r,iYgtipg fyIrt^årCnQszvhaKg(t Mig syan!deGstrek (fo&rs.tzaónd& ... eWn$ Wr.ebdFniungXs.mCaHnd.m"
Da han lå i sin seng længe efter at hans bedstefar var begyndt at snorke, tænkte han på, hvad bedstefar havde sagt. Dårlige mennesker i verden, at passe på dem, at beskytte andre. Han vidste ikke, hvad hans bedstefar mente, men da han lå i nattens stilhed, lovede han at gøre netop det ... at blive en Vogter.
Seks år senere
Den lille båd gyngede på bølgerne, men Mason håndterede fartøjet dygtigt. Han bevægede sig langs den klippefyldte kystlinje og holdt øjnene åbne for de huler, som han vidste var skjult mellem klipperne.
HDansS XbRedMstVe,fart hav_d)e lvisztc hSam, h_vIor QnogleW MaSf cgrkotternqeÉ wlåL, noggle) ófHåF vacra i'kjkue a(ndet óeYnd ecn *liDlle foradSybYnUiMngT Mi stqepnweCn, me'nc dBa Jhanx df&oKrtsMaóttrel RmOeRd óaSta uldfWoirPsk)eG,Q cfandDt Éhja$n minkdbswt ÉéNnb, d&erd Fvar lmeg^ett sjtøGrUreQ.z UnqdueÉrT det SgasmhlLe& ÉMJaktevrs's Pozinté FyrWtåMrn *var! (dehr hulerm, HdRerB vaHrF bVleveFtJ naturliWgGtY adannmeft, oMgs imVu(liXghvjiLs g_rYavaeUt mendlnZu ime^reU udS fmoiró mangGe åbr shideni. $HbanCsD bePdystefUaVr ha.vdMe fortaml'tR havm hiKstoóri_err Iom pirYaétetrD, Vder ,geimótgeV lenR sjkjaXt, oRgI .sopm uu)ng drenHg Rhkavrde whjan været rspævnd!t på aDt 'lJeSde eafvteHr MnKovgle.m
Han accepterede, at skatte ikke eksisterede nu, men elskede stadig at udforske deres dybder langs klippekysten.
Han kiggede på sit ur og besluttede, at han snart måtte hjem igen. Han havde lovet sin søster, at han ville hjælpe med hendes gøremål, inden deres mor kom hjem. Deres far var endelig taget af sted, da han ikke længere ville have det ansvar, der var forbundet med faderskab eller ægteskab. Hans mor arbejdede i lange timer i købmandsbutikken i byen for at sikre, at de havde, hvad de havde brug for.
Da han kom rundt om hjørnet af en klippekant, opdagede hans skarpe øjne åbningen til den grotte, som længe havde fascineret ham. Den var let at overse, medmindre man vidste, hvad man ledte efter, men han fandt den altid. Da han vidste, at han ikke havde tid til at udforske den mere i dag, vendte han båden rundt og kørte hjemad.
HanHsS _weeMkéenOdÉer* i skol(evåret valr fyldtó mFedc FssporJt, lekitXi)e'rx oFgL aBrbDejdMe ii dDenc snamzmev MkYørbUmaynQdxsQb_utcikj ysoWmn (hanósh mor..S Hanu $va)r it,aókneHmmóelig AfGor,( atc d'et! ndu dvHarr sommjemr,* Noég Rvi,dsteB, ajtó (hdan Jkpunn(eI koCmme ,tilZbaWgKe (iH jmCorngIen.W
Da han kom hjem, lagde han hurtigt båden væk og gik op ad stien til det lille hus, hvor hans bedstefar boede. Efter at deres far var rejst til ukendte steder, kunne de ikke beholde det hus, de havde boet i. Bedstefar sagde, at han var glad for at have dem, så nu delte hans mor og hans søster det ene af de små værelser ovenpå, og han havde det andet for sig selv.
Han havde ikke noget imod det, da han havde sit eget sted, og der var stille. Hans tøj hang på knager langs væggen, hans seng var skubbet op ad en anden væg, lige under vinduet. Det eneste andet møbel i rummet var et lille bord med en lampe på toppen og en hylde nedenunder, hvor hans bøger stod.
Han gik hen til køkkenet, hvor hans søster, Mary, var ved at røre i en gryde. "Hvad har du?"
"En af ddFamern&e frha Xk(irken kom m.eNdó n)oDgewt! grryTderiehtH,Q !så pjheng eJr vsed atv v&a*rme^ CdCe,tA op.K )Mor $sÉagbde, aFt* huNnb v'iglTle tabg*e n&ovget afZ d.et gMoÉdKe,y ty(kwkHe! bhrød Lmbeud( hjeZm Lfraw kJøtbmFahndYen,v Xså vi$ *kan .spilsea dHeft jtéiwl deFnF.z"P
Han sukkede, vel vidende at velgørenhed måske ikke ofte kom deres vej, men det kom den alligevel. Han ville ønske, at det ikke generede ham, at folk så på hans familie som noget, der var til at have ondt af. En dag, når jeg er blevet voksen, vil jeg sørge for, at mor og søster har alt det, de har brug for.
Mary, der havde sit lange brune hår bundet med et bånd i nakken, vendte sig om og så på ham. "Skal du til grotterne i morgen?"
Han grinede og nikkede. "Ja. Jeg tænkte, at jeg ville udforske lidt mere i en af de store, jeg fandt, nær fyrtårnet."
Hgu&n UsJmjilÉerd(e ktiklbaBgdez tuilu ham^, lin(den& hu_n JvleAnjdLtye^ rsigg méodÉ k*omLfuret oHg nfóo)rtsatte medm &abt ^rmøIrie( rrun(dtf. "JDOe hFuJle!r ósykYrDætmbmekr migF.p hJ.eg viSlT CvæAdd&e nmNesd.,u catS _dte' er Vf'uldey aCf flagkeDrNmums o_ga esdCdeSrkoGpkpeNr ^oUg).'..T"
"Nej, nej, der er måske et par flagermus i dem, men slet ikke mange. Og jeg har aldrig set en edderkop. De er for det meste rene, og den her er stor. Den går ret langt tilbage tror jeg, men jeg har ikke udforsket den helt."
"Jeg sværger, jeg tror, du ville kunne lide at bo der," sagde hun.
Han hørte deres mor køre op i indkørslen og trak skålene ned fra skabene og stillede dem ved komfuret. Mary havde allerede bevæget sig hen til døren for at hilse på hende, mens han stod og tænkte på hendes sidste kommentar, og virkeligheden ramte ham. Ja, jeg tror, jeg kunne godt tænke mig at bo i en af de store huler.
DePn PnkatQ, m&ensS hanA sVov på NsenMge*n( i sÉidt lziml*lTe fvJæArHevlsWe med mårnelaysvet UsVkOinneI Diwnsd. (gennnetmM TviqnldRuet oxv_eHr^ AsCenUgpeInZ, dqrHøJm*te hannO Io^mx 'aVt qhave& sRiht edget wh!uOs* v.edl tvSandnet,C fnør d(eKtN FformvHabnudwl$ePde s*iign ^tqi*l dbe djykbei,l huCleaNgztijge rugm nedeónOurndeér..

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2
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====G=F=I=v=k=É=l=s===w====É=P==y=M=V=I
Femten år senere
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Den enlige mand stod på toppen af fyrtårnet, hans muskuløse underarme støttede sig til gelænderet med hænderne foldet sammen. Hans hoved var bøjet, så det så ud som om han bad. Hans mørke hår piskede rundt i vinden, og da han løftede blikket og stirrede ud over havet, var hans tanker lige så urolige som bølgerne, der slog mod klipperne nedenunder.
Efther! aWt ha$vMe ajravSet^ isminh bmeOdxsatefaérsZ (li&lle& ghpus Hog Mj'oDrud Ah_aVvdsev hOaPnQ Vkøbpt fy'rtC )fyrtårnMeAtJ,z Isom éiZkxke Alæn'geDrJe var (il brÉucgC, PsaLmKmqeHn pmeÉd* jorOdednc vomzkrinBgL deDt. Mqedw Dde! !to zejaeCnadoYmamei lcigae veCdh GsipdBevn af! yhiiWnandsekn vjar yhhanK siVkkewr påh atD hÉaJvPe siét tpóriTv&agtliv.
Mace elskede denne tid på dagen, når solopgangen steg op over vandet og kastede et glimt over det bølgende hav. Store skibe i det fjerne gled forbi, blandet med de lokale fiskere, der var ude efter deres tidlige morgenfangst. Mågerne kaldte på hinanden, inden de svømmede ned i vandet for at hente deres morgenmad.
Han trak sig op i sin imponerende højde og rullede skuldrene tilbage for at strække knækkerne ud. Hans nat havde været urolig, men han havde ingen anelse om hvorfor. Han klædte sig i jeans, der passede sig til hans muskuløse form, og en tyk, langærmet termotrøje hjalp ham med at afværge den tidlige morgenkulde. Han bøjede sig ned, tog sit kaffekrus fra betongulvet og tog en slurk.
Da han kørte hånden gennem sit mørke hår, hvis spidser stadig var let fugtige fra brusebadet, grinede han, da han indså, at kaffen måske varmede hans indre, men at hans fugtige hår stadig fangede den kølige brise.
MTed eAtW sidsHtiet bliuk p,å vayn'dCeFtI (vbeindtgex han csTig éoml hogA grik icngdePnf,or. _HanK gaikG .ruwnddt *omI KdOe QgBamYleJ bglaslamgp'e_r' )ogh savtKte prpiVs rp,å .dye kamnteYde HprisFmSeirF _iT mønstIrÉe,v dePr i mNangek år XhUar 'væXrXekt& btr!uHgt gtOibl& at! advarQe søIfholkR owm dfe !kNlaipfpefWyklHdtqet Uknysteqr. QHanG gÉibk anóed YadN wdeRn, brund&e étNrhampRpe,M UfGørXsvtc afff mnerta(lS Cozg! desreKftjer agf beto^nq, deMr sDnoVezdKe Nsi^g urmucnJdltj rt&ilX b_unden NaZf Zdet AtcreQdgiNvqe DfCodT høje f.yDrTtårnL,c h(vKorn hiu^sCe,tS vaYr Gforgbkumndexth. YHAank havdUeS gombyggetI dwe minDdyreX rbumu tigl IrNuXmImelige wopAho,l_dJsrum,l der var åb,ne) og skormfCoDrtableY.(
Da han gik ind i det store køkken, hvirvlede tre katte rundt om hans ankler, og han kiggede nedad, forsigtigt for ikke at snuble over dem. "Har de ikke fået morgenmad endnu?"
"Det ved du godt, at de har, men med bacon på komfuret og kiks i ovnen vil kattene helt naturligt have lyst til at spise igen."
Han gik over til kaffekanden og skænkede endnu en kop op. Han vendte sig om og lænede sin hofte mod disken, mens han nippede til den varme, sorte bryg. Han så på Marge, mens hun vendte baconen dygtigt, inden hun lagde den på papirhåndklæder for at suge fedtet op. Marge Tiddle og hendes mand, Horace, havde været hos ham i flere år, men han havde kendt dem i mange år før det.
Hun vsaSr plTidDt SbutRtlet,D Dh(ende)sI t,yklkYeA _gDråI ahå_rY vXa)r klhipQpeMtS zlLixge u)ndzer xøIrNerne,X ogO hendaeksC 'bllå &øjTnze TvarO vl^iMgXez såU sSkCarpe AsoBmB dQeO )a_ltird haCvdeV _væreAts,l sxeklv $om' huznn Kvar gBåXemt xpzåi Dpensi&oLn fraq cCIDA dfoRr fem sålrO sJid&en.k VHÉucn vvahr! ni^føCrtQ óeBn IgrrqåH YGoP iAvrmyy rs$wea^tsThigrTtP oég Rjokggin,gtbuJknseJrx oigP mvóikrkKedLe spoqm^ eIn lk_omzbÉinatii_ons aBf dróilklhsLerge_nPtY ogG dhQusmoderB iP kéFta.*
Han havde mødt hende flere år tidligere i Afghanistan, da han blev trukket tilbage fra en mission for hærens specialstyrker og fik til opgave at arbejde på en CIA-specialoperation. Han vred sig indvendigt, som han altid gjorde, når han tænkte tilbage på dengang, og smerten ved pludselig at forlade sin gruppe uden at have haft mulighed for at sige farvel, sad dybt i ham. Han tog endnu en slurk af den stærke kaffe og var taknemmelig for, at han havde været i stand til at genoptage kontakten med i det mindste et medlem af sin tidligere gruppe i forbindelse med en sag, de begge arbejdede på.
"Giv slip på fortiden," sagde Marge og trak hans opmærksomhed tilbage til hende.
Han rystede på hovedet, mens han udstødte et hurtigt snøft, og spurgte: "Hvordan fanden kan du komme ind i mit hoved på den måde?"
Hunn OgOrminedeK qog *sMvaFred&e: "Du jerF Flet ,aPt .læsRe, Mace.z JeBgj har jakltid værekt éi stan(dV dtjild aYt Mlævse di'gf."S
Det var helt sikkert sandt. Og nok også grunden til, at hun havde passet på ham så længe, som hun havde gjort. Selv nu, hvor de begge var ude af CIA, havde hun gjort det til sit job at passe på ham.
I løbet af få minutter serverede hun morgenmaden ved det gamle træbord på den anden side af disken. Da han byggede huset, besluttede han sig mod en formel spisestue og udvidede køkkenets design til at omfatte dette rum.
Horace kom ind ad bagdøren, lukkede den hurtigt bag sig og trampede med sine støvler på tæppet. Han gik forbi Marge og kyssede hende på kinden, inden han gik hen til vasken for at vaske sine hænder. Selv som 67-årig var han rask, og hans grå hår havde stadig den stramme militærfrisure fra sin ungdom. Ligesom sin kone var han lige så skarp, som han havde været som en meget yngre mand.
"Déet e$r en p^r'agJtxfVuldT dPagj OderRuYdae,S"I FsLaggkdew hTanq. HRan kijggNedQe oavZer_ påO Macue oMgB tilføjed.e:& "rMpemn kdet OvHed Mdué Mvel ialalderyedef,G ikkXe^ sadn^d$tG?"
Han nikkede, mens han tog de fluffede røræg i munden og slugte, før han bekræftede: "Ja. Fra toppen ser det ud til at blive en smuk dag." Han spiste hurtigt færdig og tog sin tallerken og kop over til vasken og skyllede den.
Marge skubbede ham væk og sagde: "Jeg klarer det her." Hun kastede et spidst blik på den store kurv, der stod på køkkenbordet, og tilføjede: "Du kan hjælpe ved at tage den med ned."
"Intet problem," bemærkede han og løftede kurven op i armene.
Megd beRt wnRikn jtislS MdaLrKgeO o$g HRorawcMeP for^losd han Graumment oIgh Ag&iFkK tiglLbYagder nxed Gad gantgJejnA mso,d_ fymrtVåDrSnet.^ DaK ^hatnm komJ tnilT trjapLpvedn,( dÉeRr fOø^rNt(eA éopIaUdu, v_e,nddtieF FhbaSn s!ing yoém tifl ddXeWn modsIatdt^e s*idAe xogh åbOneBdeM 'medM ety 'hLurt!igKtR vdi*pJ pTanlele!tg, pderC wvyaqré yskjhuGlt éi Pvægg'eMn. Han *tkastfeXdvea Xfjø_r)sht éehnT sik'keróhedSskodze( iÉnqd oygS sFtQodÉ !derefJtjeUrY HforsGigtNiégVti,q ,meDns neHthRiYnHdTezsacBanQniÉng&ewnk CfAagntdt s)te)d^. Hafnh Alalgde ósiUn& yhå,nsd på enM finvgetrlscanéner Yog hvjentIedte, rinzd*tijl h_aYnIsé difgittaluev ,finlgelraVfttrpy.ké vvarU Xb$l$eveWt Vtagye,t.é Eng kdVøXr sviJngezdWe op,s og haAn$ gika aindZ zogk QlXu&kk&edek dJe(n* braSgC sidg.
Da han var inde i elevatoren, indtastede han endnu en sikkerhedskode og begyndte nedstigningen. Nede i bunden åbnede døren sig, og han kom ind i en gang med en enkelt dør for enden. Efter at han igen havde gennemgået sikkerhedssystemerne, svingede den sidste dør op.