That night, Alex’s mind was a storm of thoughts as he made his way to Tya's house. She had always been different—ruthless, unapologetic, but his anchor in the chaos. Despite the blood on her hands, and her complete detachment from any sense of morality, Tya understood him like no one else. She knew about his secret rule, the one thing that kept him tethered to the shred of humanity he clung to, and though she found it ironic—given that her line of work was quite literally killing for money—she respected him for it. It was one of the reasons they had remained close.
Tya's house was simple but secure, a stark contrast to the bloody world they came from. Victor had allowed her the freedom to live on her own since she was seventeen, an unusual mercy from a man who gave little of it. She wasn’t bound by the same leash Alex was, able to operate outside the gang as a hired assassin, her coldness making her one of the best.
When Alex entered, she was casually lounging on the couch, a glass of whiskey in hand. She raised an eyebrow at him, sensing something different. Without a word, he sat next to her, pulling out the letter that had been on his mind since that afternoon.
Tya glanced at the paper in his hand. “What’s that?” she asked, her voice detached but curious.
Alex opened the letter, revealing only a blank page except for a single set of coordinates scrawled in the middle. No explanation. No name. Just a location.
Tya leaned over, studying the paper before glancing up at him. “You’re actually thinking of going, aren’t you?”
He didn’t respond right away. His jaw clenched as he stared at the coordinates. “They claim to have left Soulless,” he finally said, voice low and rough. The words sounded almost foreign in the air, as if it were impossible.
Tya sat back, swirling the whiskey in her glass. “If they’re telling the truth, it’s a hell of a risk. No one gets out of Soulless alive.”
“I know,” Alex muttered, his fingers tightening around the letter. “But if they did… maybe I can too.”
Tya’s eyes flicked to his face, and for a moment, something softer appeared in her gaze. “You really think this could be it?”
Alex leaned back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the years pressing down on him. “I don’t know… but I have to find out.”
Tya studied him for a moment before taking a long sip of her whiskey. “If you’re going to do this, you better be careful, Alex. You’re already walking a fine line with the old man. One wrong step…”
She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to. They both knew what would happen if Victor found out.
“I’ll be careful,” he said, standing up. “But I have to try.”
Tya watched him as he headed for the door. “If you need backup, you know where to find me.”
Alex gave a small nod before stepping out into the night, the letter with its cryptic coordinates burning a hole in his pocket. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of hope—not just for escape, but for something more. Something beyond the cold, empty life he’d been living. The location on that paper could be the key to his freedom… or it could be a trap. Either way, he had to find out.
Alex’s heart raced as he followed the man in the black suit down the dimly lit stairwell leading to the abandoned underground train station. Each step echoed ominously, amplifying the tension in the air. He had been cautious for days, piecing together this meeting, prepared for anything—especially a trap. But the prospect of finally breaking free from Victor’s grasp outweighed the fear coursing through him.
As they reached the bottom, Alex’s eyes landed on the man he had seen before, the one who had posed as a driver. He was flanked by several other men, all wearing serious expressions, each one a reminder of the danger surrounding him. The atmosphere was thick with an unspoken tension, and Alex felt the weight of his weapons beneath his clothes, a comforting reminder of his resolve.
The man in the suit led him through a door into a lavish room adorned with red carpets and heavy curtains. It was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment he had just come from. At the center of the room sat a man in a wheelchair, an unsettling aura surrounding him. Despite his disfigurement—lacking both legs and one arm—his presence was commanding, and Alex instinctively felt the need to tread carefully.
The man’s face bore a slight resemblance to Victor, and Alex’s instincts flared with unease. "Welcome, Alex," the man said, his voice smooth but edged with a steeliness that sent shivers down Alex’s spine. "I am Leon, Victor’s brother."
YOU ARE READING
Faith
Werewolf"I've always had faith in us. Deep down, I always knew this bond was right. Even when everything else felt wrong, when the world seemed to crumble beneath our feet, it didn't matter. We were meant to be. It was the one thing I was certain of, even i...
