| 10 | A Game of Survival

The soft glow of dawn filters through the large windows, casting a warm light on the almond-colored drapery hooks. Despite the comfort of the luxurious bedsheets, sleep eludes me. It's my first night away from Efrem's watchful gaze, yet instead of plotting my escape, my mind replays the scene of his departure.

I stood at the top of the staircase, observing Efrem prepare to leave with the red-haired woman clinging to his arm. Alek and Tavin bustled in and out, carrying an excessive amount of luggage for a mere three-day trip.

How much someone could possibly need to carry for a three-day leave.

The woman's bright pink bags were a garish contrast to the mansion's subdued elegance.

Isaak silently took his place beside me, a constant shadow throughout the day. His presence, once a comfort, now felt like a chain. That's how it had been through the entire morning and day, he'd follow wherever I went without saying a word. Of course, I never did go far. This isn't my home.

As Alek returned to inform Efrem that Tavin was waiting in the car, Efrem nodded and whispered something in Alek's ear. Before leaving, Efrem's eyes found mine, acknowledging my presence. His gaze was unreadable, leaving me with an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I need to get the hell out of here...

But I have no idea where here is. The Mustafin sector is foreign territory, and my unconscious journey here left me with no frame of reference.

Sighing heavily, I sit up in bed, sweeping my long hair over my shoulder. The cool air raises goosebumps on my skin as I pull back the covers.

It's not supposed to be this cold at this time of the year…

My eyes dart to the light switch, tempted by the ease it would provide, but the shadowy feet visible beneath the door remind me of my constant surveillance.

I hold my breath as I swing my legs over the bed's edge, my feet sinking into the plush carpet. Pulling my hair into a messy bun, I wrap my arms around myself for warmth. Moving silently towards the windows, I can't help but glance back at the door, the guard's feet a constant reminder of my captivity.

Is it to protect me or is it to protect himself? A half-blood escaping from under a Ringleader’s control would be…

I shake the thought from my mind.

It doesn't matter. I'm getting the hell out of here.

The window seat catches my eye, its pristine condition suggesting recent installation. Isaak's words about Efrem preparing this room for me, just for me, echo in my mind, but I push the thought aside.

Again, it doesn't matter.

Kneeling on the seat, I plant my hands on the windowsill, leaning forward to take in the view. The full moon shines brilliantly in the cloudy sky, a familiar sight that brings a twinge of homesickness. Beyond the gates, tall trees sway in the breeze—a tantalizing glimpse of freedom.

That's the forest… That's freedom…

Yet, I hesitate to contemplate it. I refuse to give myself the opportunity to let the fact that I have no idea how to navigate that forest stop me.

Without hesitation, I reach for the window handles. As I twist the lock and push the window open, a shrill beeping fills the room, an alarm that seems to ring through the entire mansion.

What the hell?!

My heart leaps into my throat as the door swings open, revealing a stern-faced Matvey.

“What are y—” he starts, but I'm already moving.

Adrenaline courses through me as I climb onto the window frame and leap. The dense bushes below break my fall, branches scratching my skin as I tumble onto the ground. I roll out onto the open lawn, the bright lights exposing me.

As I prepare to sprint towards the forest, a pair of menacing growls stops me in my tracks. My blood runs cold as I spot two white pitbulls, poised to attack at the slightest movement.

Run. Just run.

In a moment of panic, I bolt forward. Without thinking, I realize that this is the worst decision I could've made. Strong jaws clamp onto my ankle, dragging me to the ground. A cry of pain escapes me as their teeth tear into my flesh.

“What is that?!” Isaak's voice cuts through the night air.

I desperately try to push the dogs away, their relentless tugging making me fear for my foot. The thought of kicking them crosses my mind, but their relentless growls and tugs make me hesitate, afraid of making it worse.

“Alaki!” Isaak calls out, approaching with two unfamiliar men.

Tears well my eyes as the bulky dogs continue to tug forcefully, feeling their teeth tear my skin. I scream at the top of my lungs, and I’m at the brink of allowing the tears to fall when I hear Isaak’s deep and loud voice again, “Bolt! Mayhem!”

The dogs stop.

Almost instantly, they release their hold on me and sit menacingly in front of me, growling loudly. They glare at me as I try to put some distance between us, ready for their next command. But I can’t move more than a few feet before my eyes find Matvey as he moves to me. He glares at me, challenging me to try running again.

Get up. I need to get up.

But I can’t. It’s over.

“Boss isn't going to be happy about this,” Matvey mutters, shaking his head in irritation.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

Frustration cripples me as Alek and Matvey grab my upper arms, practically lifting me off the ground as they follow Isaak back into the mansion. The moment my feet touch the marble floor, a sharp pain shoots up my leg. I stumble, falling against Matvey, who quickly steadies me.

Please, just let me go…

I want to scream, but as tears well my eyes, I know that if I try to, I’ll only weep instead.

Isaak looks back, his face hard and unreadable. Alek scowls, glaring at Matvey. “You had one job,” he snaps. “You explain this to him because I sure as hell won't.” With that, he storms off in the opposite direction.

Matvey sighs, then scoops me up into his arms. I gasp, instinctively grasping his muscular arms for support. They carry me to the familiar white-walled cell, memories of Corvin's cruelty flooding back, causing my anxiety to spike.

Matvey steps back, his eyes darting between me and Isaak. “I'll call a nurse,” he says, his voice laced with concern.

For a moment, I feel a flicker of hope.

Maybe they'll let someone else in... someone who could help me.

But Isaak's response quickly extinguishes that hope. “No,” he says firmly, making his way toward Matvey. He takes a small white box from Matvey's hands—a first aid kit, I realize. “He doesn't want anyone else getting involved, especially because he isn't here.”

Involved..?

Matvey’s brow furrows. “He said he doesn’t want her damaged. Her injury—”

“I can handle it,” Isaak cuts him off, his tone brooking no argument. He turns to face me, his eyes hard. “It’s not that bad.”

He doesn’t want me damaged? What the hell does that mean?!

Matvey hesitates, clearly torn between following orders and concern for my well-being. “Are you sure? What if it gets infected?”

Isaak sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I know what I'm doing. If it gets worse, we'll deal with it then. For now, we follow his orders. No outsiders.”

Their eyes meet, and a silent communication seems to pass between them. Eventually, Matvey's shoulders slump slightly, a sign of his reluctant acceptance.

“Fine,” Matvey concedes, his voice low. “But if anything changes…”

“You'll be the first to know,” Isaak assures him, though his tone suggests he’s simply placating Matvey.

Matvey's footsteps fade as he exits the room, leaving me alone with Isaak. The tension in the air thickens, as Isaak kneels before me, his movements deliberate and controlled. He takes my injured leg, gently placing it over his lap.

He reaches for the small white box, setting it on the floor beside him. I watch warily as he opens it, my eyes darting between his face and his hands. He methodically draws out bandages, bandage tape, and rubbing alcohol wipes, arranging them on the bed next to me.

You're not fucking touching me with that.

As if sensing my thoughts, Isaak's hand clamps down on my leg the moment I try to pull away. His grip is firm, bordering on painful. “Don't move,” he growls, his voice low and threatening, “or I'll have Matvey come back and hold you down.”

Then you'll have to call him.

I steel myself, ready to resist, when a new voice cuts through the tension.

“Is she being resistant?”

My eyes snap to the doorway, landing on a familiar tall figure. He stands with his arms crossed, his stance radiating authority..

“It’s fine, Konstantin,” Isaak mutters, not taking his eyes off me.

Konstantin?

…

Twins. He must be Alek’s twin brother. He has to be. The resemblance is…

“Isn't that right, Alaki?” He raises his eyebrows at me, a clear warning in his eyes. The message is unmistakable—this isn't the time for defiance.

Realizing I'm outnumbered and outmaneuvered, I reluctantly concede. I hold my tongue and turn my head away, a silent admission of defeat. Isaak takes this as permission to proceed, gently beginning to wipe away the blood that's quickly drying on my wounds.

I shut my eyes tightly, clenching my jaw against the pain. I try to distract myself with the sound of Konstantin's retreating footsteps, focusing on the echo rather than the sting of my injuries.

The first touch of alcohol on my open wound sends a jolt of pain through me. I can't help but struggle against Isaak's grip, but he holds me firmly. His grip tightens, and I'm sure it will leave bruises. If he notices, he gives no indication, maintaining his hold until it's time to bandage the wound.

As he wraps the bandage around my ankle, concealing both the wound and the marks from his grip, I study his face. The gentleness I once knew is gone, replaced by a hardness that makes my heart ache.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he breathes out, his voice a mix of anger and exasperation. He irritably packs the unused supplies back into the box, slamming it shut with more force than necessary.

I flinch at the sound, my eyes following him as he straightens up, box in hand.

Who are you..?

The man standing before me is a stranger wearing the face of someone I once loved. It's as if he's playing a role, pretending to be someone else entirely.

Or maybe he is someone else now...

My voice is barely above a whisper when I finally speak, “I'm not going to sit here and wait until he kills me.”

Isaak scoffs, shaking his head as he walks out of the cell. He places his hand on the monitor, and the door slides shut with a soft hiss. Despite the barrier between us, his words come through clearly.

“He didn't say he was going to kill you, did he?”

I narrow my eyes, the bitterness I've been holding back seeping into my voice. “He didn't say anything at all, and he doesn't have to. I know that h–”

“He didn't save your life just to kill you himself, Alaki,” Isaak cuts me off, his voice rising. “But keep pulling shit like this, and he won't think twice about doing it.”

“How can you trust him?” I ask, unable to keep the hurt from my voice. “I knew your parents…” My voice trails off as memories flood back. “You’re not a pureblood. How did you become a member of this Ring?”

Isaak's eyes meet mine, and for a long moment, he says nothing. The silence stretches between us, heavy.

Who the hell are you..?

The realization that I may never know this new version of Isaak hits me hard. The bridge of my nose stings as hot tears begin to slide down my cheeks. Despite my best efforts, a soft sob escapes my lips. “You've changed…” I cry, the words carrying the weight of my shattered hopes.

For a brief moment, I see a flicker of the old Isaak in his eyes. Sympathy, perhaps even pity, crosses his face. He never could stand to see me cry, and it seems that, at least, hasn't changed.

“Why?” he retorts, his voice softer now but no less firm. “Because I refuse to betray the man who saved my life, as he saved yours?” He doesn't hold back, his words sharp and to the point. “He said he'd answer your questions when he returns. Try pulling your head out of your ass and listen, for once. Then maybe he'll forgive you.”

He pauses, sighing heavily before turning his back to me. Looking over his shoulder, he delivers a final blow, his words bruising what's left of my already battered ego.

“I thought you were smarter than this, Alaki.”

With that, he walks away, leaving me alone with my pain, my questions, and the crushing realization that the Isaak I once knew is gone forever.