"So I'll help you."
The words come out slurred.
Distant.
Like I'm speaking from somewhere far away, somewhere the waking world can barely reach.
"Alliance. Be your Omega if it means you get to prove to him that he should be afraid of you."
I feel myself sinking.
Drifting.
The chair is comfortable—toocomfortable—and my body is demanding rest in ways I can't ignore. Sleep is inevitable, but I make sure I say my last words.
"Then... we're enemies again."
CHAPTER 17
The Devil's Game
~KAI~
She falls asleep mid-sentence.
One moment she's speaking—voice fading, words slurring, eyes drifting closed with the inevitability of someone whose body has decided it's done waiting for permission—and the next, she's simply... gone.
Unconscious.
Vulnerable.
Curled into that armchair like a child seeking protection from monsters under the bed, except her monsters are real and one of them is standing three feet away, watching her breathe.
Me.
I'm the monster.
Aren't I?
The question surfaces unbidden, uncomfortable, the kind of introspection I've spent years training myself to avoid. Self-reflection is weakness. Doubt is death. You don't survive in my family's world by second-guessing the path that's been laid out for you.
But that path just tried to kill me.
So maybe it's time to start questioning.
I don't move for a long moment.
Just stand there, arms still crossed over my chest, watching the slow rise and fall of her breathing. The pink pajamas make her look softer than she is—almost innocent, if you ignore the calluses on her hands, the faded scars visible at her wrists where the sleeves have ridden up, the tension that lingers in her shoulders even in sleep.
This is who my father is afraid of?
The thought circles back, persistent and confusing.
Why?
She's small.
Tiny, really—five-foot-three at most, built like a dancer, all lean muscle and delicate bones. She looks like a strong wind could knock her over. Like a single well-placed blow could shatter her completely.
