Chapter 5

My lips were still burning from the moment we had stolen while the camera was off.

That moment was everything. It felt like a dream. Just minutes ago, Viktor had held me like I was everything, but he simply allowed Julian to take me away without fighting back.

I followed him silently and obeyed every command. The following morning, the sky wasn't bright. The pit was waiting for me, already filled with thick, stinking mud. There were twenty boys who stood shivering in their jumpsuits. The wound caused by Viktor's strap on my back felt like fire. With every step I took, my clothes rubbed against the wound, making the raw skin pull with every step.

Julian jumped down from where he was sitting. His boots sank into the mud before me. Viktor stayed there on the platform just above us, stone-faced, his arms crossed.

"402!" Julian shouted, moving toward me.

The other boys moved away quickly. I stepped forward to the centre. The mud sucked in my boots and tried to pull me in.

"Instructor Viktor," Julian called out loud enough for everyone to hear. "Read the report on the Prince. Tell us all how soft he still is, following your yesterday's private drill," he said mockingly.

"402 showed extreme resistance. He cries when touched. No spine. A disgrace to the Moretti name." Viktor's voice was ice.

The words cut deeper than the strap. I was confused. I looked up at him and searched for the man who had just kissed me like I mattered some hours ago. There was nothing; it felt like a trap. All I saw was only an instructor, nothing more. I felt used emotionally. This moment hurt deep.

"Drink it," Julian snapped at me, grabbing my ear and dragging me to the deepest puddle. "Viktor was there watching. He used to love a man who could take a hit. He's bored of you already," Julian said sarcastically.

He shoved my face under the black water. I felt jealousy roll off Julian in waves.”

I stopped fighting to find my breath just the way Viktor had taught me when we were alone in the dark. I went limp. Julian thought he had won and loosened his grip for one heartbeat.

That was all I needed.

I immediately jammed my thumb into the soft nerve behind his jaw and twisted it hard. It was a move I'd only seen Viktor use once. Now I understood why.

"I'm not trash!" I roared. "I'm a Moretti!" I screamed, and I exploded out of the water, jumped on him, and started punching him with everything I had. Mud and blood flew.

Everybody went silent.

Viktor finally jumped down into the Pit. He didn't stop the guards from dragging me away from Julian. He stood there with his eyes locked on mine and gave the smallest nod, like an assurance.

Julian wiped blood from his broken nose and laughed. "You taught him that move, right? You gave it to him," he said angrily.

"He's a fast learner. Yesterday's private drill didn't go to waste," Viktor replied without blinking.

The Headmaster's voice echoed from the shadows. "402 attacked a superior. No way! Escort him to the Dark Room at once. Make sure he has no food and no light for three days."

Immediately the guards bundled me towards the black building.

While the guards were pulling me away, Julian moved closer to Viktor, whispering loudly enough for me to hear: "I'm going in there tonight. It's not over yet. I'm going to make sure he never stands up again. Let's see who's going to stop me?"

Viktor said nothing.

I was pushed inside; the heavy door slammed behind me. The lights went off.

I was all alone in the dark.

I pressed my back against the cold wall and slid down until I hit the floor. The stone was wet. The darkness was the kind that sat on your chest and pushed.

Then my hand touched something on the wall beside me.

I felt it with my fingers first. Scratches. Deep ones. Letters carved into the stone by something sharp, maybe a nail, maybe a tooth.

I traced them slowly.

T - O - B - Y.

My chest caved in so hard that I thought the ribs would crack.”.

Toby had been in this exact room. This exact wall. He had scratched his own name into the stone like a man who wasn't sure anyone would remember it otherwise. Like a man who was already disappearing.

I pressed my palm flat against his name and held it there.

Then something moved under the door. A thin white paper slid through the gap and stopped at my knee.

I unfolded it with shaking hands. I couldn't see in the dark. But I knew the handwriting without light. I had watched those hands pack my bag, hold a strap, cup my face.

Two words only.

Trust me.

The real war I feel right now wasn't with Julian, but with the man who had just nodded while they dragged me away.

And the worst part was the memory of all that happened between us. He had held me and kissed me like I was all that mattered. But now I felt pretty used, like a toy he played with when no one was looking and tossed aside the second Julian appeared.

Anger enveloped me, twisted in my whole chest like a knife was piercing through. Yes, Julian had history with him. Real history. This was the kind of history that made Viktor's hands tremble and his eyes darken even in broad daylight. I was just that a new shiny replacement.

But the note was still in my hand. The paper felt warm against my cold fingers, like Viktor had held it only seconds before.

Trust me.

The words sat there, small and dangerous. Part of me wanted to rip the paper to pieces.

Another part held on tighter, because in this hell the note was the only thing that felt like hope.

What should I do if the only person capable of saving me is also the same person who condemned me to this torture?