Page 34 of Dark Alliance
His voice crackled over the encrypted line, heavy with sarcasm that made my skin crawl. “Sure fucking sounds like it.”
“You’re the one at fault, Zeno,” I said, my voice steady despite my heart hammering against my ribs. It was uncommon for me to hold my ground like that, even over miles, and I waited for the explosion I knew was coming.
“Then prove it,” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the speaker. “If you want me to continue to trust you, you need to give me something I can use.”
I gripped the phone until my knuckles turned white, my frustration bleeding into my words. “How am I supposed to do that?”
He replied, "I’ll leave that to you to figure out," then hung up, the line going dead before I could say anything. His frustration was obvious.
I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. I threw the phone onto the couch with a clatter and grabbed the bottle of wine. Pouring a generous glass, I settled onto the sofa, my thoughts swirling as the burning liquid in my hand reflected my inner turmoil.
Zeno’s failure to see beyond his ego and delusions frustrated me endlessly. If he just took the time to understand someone else's perspective, maybe things would be different.
But I knew better than to say any of that aloud. He was too engrossed in his world to hear it.
I admired the man, but I started to doubt his ability to defeat Rhea or any other opponent.
Conversely, Thal was rapidly earning my respect and cautious trust. Though I still had many questions about him, I was gradually becoming more comfortable around him each day.
Outside of sex, he had no reason to be so transparent and protective of me. A man like Thal could have had sex anywhere, so that wasn’t enough to convince me that he was using me in any way at all.
Perhaps he believed what he had said, each word carrying sincerity. Maybe I could convince myself that his true goal was to look out for me.
I was trapped in a difficult dilemma, either choice seemed equally bad. Supporting Thal meant openly opposing Zeno and making an enemy of him. I wondered if Zeno’s anger would be so intense that he might see me as a traitor worth killing. This unsettling thought constantly haunted me, refusing to go away despite my wishes. I couldn’t ignore the reality of the situation.
Staying meant exposing myself to Zeno’s own failings.
Was I risking everything, tethered to his sinking ship?
The weight of these questions felt overwhelming, suffocating and unyielding. I uncapped the bottle once more, allowing the alcohol to overwhelm my senses, attempting to momentarily drown the unending storm of my thoughts.
The wine sharpened my anger, instead of numbing the pain. I looked at the dark glass of the window, seeing the girl Zeno wanted me to be: a loyal, silent ward.
Fuck that girl. He accused me of betrayal before I’d even committed the sin. He threatened to trade my body to Rhea like a line item on a ledger.
If I was a traitor, I was going to be the best he’d ever seen. I wasn’t a ward. I was the Ghost of Olympus, and I was about to haunt him.
How dare he speak to me that way, treat me as if I owed him everything. I hadn’t asked to be taken in, nor had I given him any say in the matter. Every step he claimed he took was to repay a debt to my father. A sickening excuse.
Fuck. Fuck all of this.
A sudden knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts. I wondered if Zeno had come to apologize for his terrible behavior, though I wasn’t sure that it was even possible. Not once had I heard him admit fault in his life.
“Who is it?” I called out, my voice steady as I reached for the handle.
“It’s Thal,” the voice responded.
My heart raced at the sound of his name. I swung the door open eagerly, a smile spreading across my face as my eyes locked onto him.
“What a surprise,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Come in.”
I moved aside to let him in, watching as he crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him, the soft click of the lock echoing.
He didn't smile. He looked at me like I was a fragile masterpiece he’d just found in a house on fire. I didn't know then that he’d already seen the blood debt—that he knew I was currency, but I felt the shift in the air. Every time he touched me now, it felt less like a caress and more like a claim.
“I got your text,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous hum as he gathered me into his arms. He anchored me, his grip white-knuckled. “I thought I’d reply in person.”
My breath hitched. The warmth I usually felt from him was gone, replaced by a heat so intense it felt like a warning. “Thal?Zeno called ... he’s spiraling. He thinks he can still control the board.”
