All human relationships are based on mutual exploitation.
"Simon."
The moment I spoke, the ghostly figure materialized beside me, his presence silent yet undeniable. My gaze fixed on his face, and without a word, he placed his cold, ethereal hand on my wrist. A silent agreement passed between us, understood without the need for elaboration.
As always, Simon drew a little vitality in exchange for his information—but it was a price I willingly paid. He never took more than necessary, never enough to leave me with lasting effects, so I never had cause to complain.
When his grip loosened, I turned away. But instead of entering the room assigned to me, I moved toward the one next door, the faint whisper of Simon's presence still lingering in the air behind me.
Simon's voice echoed softly from behind me. "Was it wise, letting the hunters know about the ghosts?"
I paused and glanced back, a slight, mocking smile curling on my lips. "What, Simon? Are you rethinking your stance? Haven't you been on humanity's side?"
He fell silent, his expression unreadable, as always.
I turned back toward the door, the weight of his silence hanging in the air. "It's fine," I said, my voice steady, though there was a sharp edge to it. "What could the living do against ghosts, anyway?"
Simon's voice came again, slow and deliberate, almost contemplative. "I'm not concerned about the ghosts."
I chuckled. "Oh? Then what are you concerned about?" I asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in my tone. "Come on, Simon. I gave you an out. You could've changed your mind. Why you're worried about a monster like me?"
I didn't need to look at him to know the answer. The air had grown tense with his silence, but I could feel his hesitation, his uncertainty, and in the end, I didn't need him to say a word. He was still here. That was an answer.
Alex must have been preparing for a bath, judging by the shirt tossed carelessly on the bed. His expression was a mix of dissatisfaction and confusion, but I paid it no mind. Without hesitation, I grabbed his hand, ignoring his grumbling, and dragged him to the next room—the one assigned to Rolo.
Rolo was sitting on the bed
absorbed in a book, but as soon as I walked in, he snapped it shut and placed it on the bedside table. Alex and I dropped to the floor—well, I dropped, and dragged Alex down with me.
"What the hell's going on?" Alex growled, clearly irritated. "I was about to take a shower!"
"You can shower later," I shot back, waving his concerns aside. "We need to talk about the plan, now."
"Didn't we already do that at dinner?" he snapped.
"That's the hunters' plan, Alex," I replied, pulling a sly smile across my lips. "I'm talking about our plan."
"Well, can we get started?" I asked Rolo.
I caught Simon's figure hovering a few feet above the bed, flipping through Rolo's recently discarded book. From the looks of it, Alex still hadn't noticed him—no sudden shock, no heart attack—and Rolo didn't seem to care about the book either. I wasn't sure if Simon fully trusted me yet, but I wasn't offended. After all, it was a miracle he was even willing to work with me, considering what he'd been through.
"The cellar system runs about a kilometer and a half below Redchild's villa," Rolo said, breaking my thoughts. "I got in through there."
"They keep humans in the cellar," Simon added matter-of-factly.
"I see," I replied, my voice calm but calculating. "Where's the entrance?"
"It's in the woods on the estate, about ten minutes from the battlefield," Rolo answered, then hesitated. "Although… I don't know if you'll be able to get past the bars."
"Don't worry," I reassured him, my tone confident. "We'll manage."
"The cellar's a winding maze," Rolo continued. "It'll take at least twice as long to get to the villa. We'll end up in one of the abandoned basements, though it's close enough to the King's chamber—just four corridors away."
Simon's gaze flickered to me, a silent reminder that if I wanted the ghosts' help, I'd need to show some commitment to saving those humans.
I nodded, catching the implication. "All right," I said, turning my attention back to the group. Though I addressed everyone, my agreement was mostly meant for Simon.
"Here's the plan: once we've lured the vampires out, we'll do our best to stay alive..."
"How do we lure the vampires out?" Alex inquired suspiciously.
"With my blood—"
Before I could even finish, he was ready to explode.
"What the hell are you thinking? You want every bloodsucker in the area to come after you?!"
I shrugged nonchalantly. "That's the only way the old man agreed to let me on the Alpha team."
"And when exactly did you discuss this?!"
"Well, during the meeting, but that's not important," I waved off his concern, steering the conversation back. "So, once we lure the vampires out, we fight with everything we've got, and Alex—try not to wander too far from me, alright?"
Alex snorted and buried his face in his hands, as if I'd just obliterated the last of his patience.
"Rolo will hide in my clothes in his cat form," I continued, ignoring his dismay. "Then we wait for the signal."
"The signal?" Alex asked, though I could already tell he was bracing himself for another cryptic answer.
"Believe me, when the time comes, you'll know," I said, my tone firm and a little mysterious.
At this point, Alex was clearly fed up with the secrecy and let out a frustrated groan. How could I explain that even I wasn't entirely sure what the sign would look like?
"If we see the sign, we'll capitalize on the confusion and retreat from the battlefield," I added, trying to reassure him.
"How?" Alex shot one last attempt at getting a concrete answer, and, feeling a little merciful, I finally relented.
"Alright, fine," I said, showing them Alistair's ring. "With this. Fae Magic."
I turned it on my finger, and Alex's sultry look convinced me that I had indeed become invisible. Rolo's eyes were searching me fervently. I lifted the spell.
Rolo's face lit up, his excitement palpable. "Can I examine it?"
I handed him the ring, and he immediately began to twirl it between his fingers, studying it with intensity.
"It looks incredibly valuable," Alex remarked. "Where did you get it?"
"Yes, it is," I replied simply. "It's a family heirloom."
"You'll stay close to me, and if you see the sign, you'll take my hand and make us both disappear," I continued.
"What? Why me?" Alex asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"I'll be distracting the King while you free the girls, invisibly," I explained, my tone steady.
"Wait, distract him?!" Alex's voice spiked with concern. "That's way too dangerous! And how do you know the girls are even on his side? They could be locked away somewhere, like in a dungeon..."
I was about to answer, but Rolo spoke first.
"Think it through! If you're holding hostages, you don't leave them far away. They might not be in the same room, but Shay might demand to see them, and then they'll have no choice but to bring them out. And they won't want to kill Shay—he's too useful. The plan's risky, sure, but it could work."
He was right. Finding and freeing the girls one by one would be a waste of time. The clock was ticking.
I nodded. "We need to get there before the troops do and seize the girls. When they attack the Fifth, we'll use the chaos to make a run for it."
I turned to Rolo. "In the meantime, you'll stay in the basement and free the humans trapped there. We'll meet in the forest."
Rolo gave a quick nod, signaling his understanding.
Though Simon had been eerily silent up to this point, I could feel his presence sharpening. He was taking everything in. I reached out, retrieving the ring from Rolo and handing it to Alex.
"Alright, time to practice," I declared. "Put it on your finger and give it a command. The magic works differently for each person, so I can't really guide you through it. Just think of something simple—something that comes to mind right away!"
The wolf hesitated before making his first attempt, but my eyes lingered on him, watching closely. He paused. "I didn't disappear, right?"
"Nope," I confirmed, "you're still here."
"Maybe fae magic doesn't work on me," he muttered under his breath. "I'm a werewolf, after all."
"It must work," I countered. "I've shared temporary ownership with you."
He tried again, focusing harder. After half an hour, his left hand had begun to fade, the rest of him still stubbornly visible.
"This isn't working," I said, cutting off his next attempt. "What's going wrong?"
"I don't know..." he admitted, frustration creeping into his voice.
Rolo, who had been quiet until then, spoke up, capturing our attention immediately. "Stop trying to disappear."
Alex blinked, clearly confused, but my mind clicked into place.
"But that's the point, isn't it?"
Rolo let out a long sigh. "The ring doesn't physically hide you, does it?"
I nodded.
"It just creates an illusion," Rolo continued, "a kind of shroud that hides you from the sight of others. Don't focus on disappearing—think of it as wrapping yourself in mist or a veil."
Suddenly, everything clicked for Alex. He adjusted his focus, and within moments, he vanished—so seamlessly it was as if he'd never been there to begin with. He reappeared in a flash, grinning widely, unable to hide his excitement.
Once he regained his composure, he turned to me, still wearing a huge grin. "When did you come up with all this?"
I gave him a sly half-smile. "What are you talking about? I planned this from the start."
(...)
Then came a soft knock, followed by the creak of the door opening just a crack. A small figure slipped inside, his emerald eyes faintly glowing in the gloom.
"Did I wake you?" he asked quickly.
"No," I replied, voice hollow. "I can't sleep."
"Neither can I."
Silence settled between us, thick and heavy, and I knew that if I didn't speak, Rolo would likely stand there all night. I didn't have the energy for that.
"What's wrong?" I finally asked.
"I'm scared," he whispered after a pause.
I could have guessed that, but I hadn't cared much for other people's feelings in a long time. My own were more than enough to keep me busy. Of course, he was scared—the dark had a way of doing that to a person, especially in a place full of hunters.
"Can I... can I sleep in your room tonight?" he asked, a slight hesitation in his voice.
The request caught me off guard, but I nodded. "Yeah."
He shifted, moving quietly to a corner.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Sleeping," he replied simply.
"Sleeping?" I echoed, surprised.
"Yes," he confirmed.
"On the floor?"
"On the floor."
I sighed, the frustration evident in the sound. Every room in the place had a damn king-sized bed, yet here he was, choosing the floor.
"You can have half my bed," I offered, my voice laced with resignation.
His head snapped up, eyes wide.
"What are you staring at? Hurry up, I'm tired," I muttered.
He shuffled toward the bed, moving slowly, as if unsure. Then he climbed in, curling up as far from me as he could. He was practically hanging off the edge of the bed, and I figured he'd fall off at any moment.
"I don't remember much of the night the hunters came," he whispered, his voice small. "Everything was red... the smell of blood was suffocating, darkness... Those white bone masks... they almost glowed in the dark."
I didn't respond. Rolo didn't need words from me. There are times when silence is the only thing that matters.
"You're strange," he said suddenly, breaking the quiet. I glanced over at him.
He was facing me now.
"What do you mean?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I've been thinking about it," he continued, "The first day we met, I thought you were going to sell me out to the hunters. But you didn't."
"You owed me, and Geri wouldn't have paid me for that debt," I said quickly, cutting him off.
"Then when I saw your mask... that surprised me. But the biggest surprise was that you saved me," he went on.
"I wanted you to figure things out yourself," I shrugged, though the motion didn't quite carry the same weight lying down.
"I know that," he said, nodding. "But that doesn't explain why you helped me. I've wanted to ask you—why?"
I turned to face him seriously, then gave him a wicked smile. "I've forgotten."
"I thought you'd say that," he sighed
"Why do you care so much?" I asked, though I already knew.
"It's the nice people I'm afraid of," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "Their smiles are false, their words all calculated. If someone's too nice to me, it's a warning. But you... you never tried to betray me."
"Tell me, your parents..." I began.
"Yes," he answered, not a hint of hesitation. "Their friends betrayed them."
"That explains a lot," I murmured, propping myself up on one elbow. "All human relationships are about mutual exploitation. Monsters are no different."
They're nice to you because they want to exploit you, they're nice to you because they want to betray you, or they're nice to you to relieve their own loneliness, but it's exactly the same on the other side—therefore it is mutual. However, we are social creatures, so no matter how many times we are burned, we will always seek the company of the other. No matter how many times we are betrayed, it doesn't change.
"You're not afraid of me being nice," I added softly, "you're afraid of being fooled again."
"Thank you for summing up the mysteries of the darkness in my soul, Shaytan," he sneered, though the bitterness was tinged with resignation.
"One thing you should know," I said, my voice low, "If you don't want to, you don't have to fight. You owe me nothing."
Rolo's eyes widened.
"That's why you didn't make us swear an oath," he murmured, realization dawning on him. "And why my task is to free the humans."
I didn't answer—there was no need.
"You remember what I said about not meeting a better packheart than you?" he asked, voice wry. "Correction: I haven't met a douchier packheart than you."
He turned his back to me, the tension between us palpable. He didn't answer when I wished him goodnight. I sighed deeply, closing my eyes.
The weight of the battle pressed against me, and my mind ran through the three golden rules:
1. Intelligence and information.
2. A decisive battle — effective planning.
3. Misdirection.
I went over countless strategies in my mind, until one finally stood out. Yet, doubts lingered—doubts about the morality of it all. My rational self urged me to make the best choice, but the devil on my shoulder couldn't help but ask: Do you really want to drag a child into a war? Haven't your friends suffered enough?
The answer was clear.
Fatigue finally overcame me, and for the first time in ages, I slept soundly—only the haunting cries of Coffee and Jo filling the darkness.