14

Blair

Present

Breathe in, breathe out. First position.

Plie… plie…

Sugar . It’s not working. No amount of reciting ballet moves in my head can slow my pounding heart or stop the rush of heat to my cheeks. Because right now, I’m staring down at Asher’s face. Inches away. With my body on top of his.

The roar of the crowd below snaps the spell.

I scramble to my feet, ignoring the throb in my right ankle as I step back. Asher rises slowly, brushing himself off, and I fix him with a glare.

“Why the hell did you save me?”

The word “hell” trips me up—I still struggle with swearing, a stupid holdover from the way I was raised. Judging by his smirk, Asher notices.

I punch his arm. “It’s not funny.”

“I just stopped you from becoming roadkill fifty feet down below. Most people would say thank you.”

“I…” I blush, biting my lip at his smugness. “Fine. Thank you, Asher. But why did you—”

He shrugs, cutting me off. “None of your business.”

“Don’t mess with me, Asher.”

His eyes glint under the strobe lights. “I’m going to be the one to beat you, not your own fucking inability to make the jump.”

Bitterness bubbles in my chest. So, he didn’t save me out of some leftover affection— just because he wants to take me down in a more personal way than letting me plummet to my death.

“Fine,” I snap. “If I hadn’t broken my ankle four years ago then it would’ve been much easier.”

Asher’s expression darkens. I don’t entirely mean it; it’s not his fault I fell that night. But the gratitude I feel right now infuriates me. Was it his fault that I was reckless? No. He didn’t push me into anything. But at the time, I thought my dreams were broken. I shut down, pushed him away.

And now here we are: enemies locked in a standoff.

Two enemies who just had mind-blowing sex outside this warehouse.

I shove the memory aside.

“Is this a fucking joke?” a gruff voice says from behind us.

I blink, snapping back to the present. Around us, the other players stare, hostility etched into their faces. In the heat of the moment, I’d forgotten they were even there.

Ivan sneers, stepping forward. “She was going to fall to her goddamn death, and you saved her? She shouldn’t make it to the next round.”

“I didn’t ask him to help me,” I protest. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

One of the others narrows his eyes at me. “You two in some kind of alliance?”

“No,” I say, my voice faltering. “I don’t even…”

I don’t even what , exactly? I don’t even know him? I don’t trust him? Every thought feels tangled, and the heat and lights are pressing down, making it hard to think straight.

Ivan steps closer, pointing a finger in my face. “We’re here to win some serious money, not to watch Asher argue with his bitch girlfriend.”

“Don’t call her that,” Asher says.

I wheel around at him. “Don’t call me a bitch? Or don’t call me your girlfriend? Which exactly is more offensive to you?”

A guy speaks up. “We’re friends, man, but I’m not going to stand by and watch you drag her through this competition because you want to fuck her.”

My face burns. Nerves pound in my stomach. This is quickly spiraling out of control.

Ivan scoffs. “How the hell did she even get invited?”

I open my mouth to protest, but Asher steps between me and the others, his stance broad and unyielding. “Back the fuck off.”

He’s taller than everyone here, but it doesn’t matter. There are more of them.

My mind races with questions. Why did he save me? Does he want me alive just so he can drag out his revenge, make me suffer?

But right now, the real threat isn’t Asher—it’s the men closing in around me, their expressions deadly.

“Gentlemen,” a smooth voice calls. “Calm the hell down. That’s an order.”

I turn to see Lex standing at the edge of the platform by the ladder.

“The Collective has made its ruling. Everyone on this platform advances to the next round. If anyone has a problem with that, they’re free to walk out right now.”

The klaxon blares as the round officially ends, and the DJ cranks the bass back up, flooding the warehouse with music. Reluctantly, the players back off, one by one, until they start filing down the ladder.

Asher is the last to move. He glances at me. I can’t read whatever dark thing is in his eyes.

I’m about to follow him when Lex raises a hand.

“Hold up, Blair.”

I gulp, my gaze fixed on Lex’s gnarled fingers and heavy silver rings. He looks me up and down, a cold glint in his eye.

“You’re doing quite well tonight. You should be proud.” His words are dripping with dark, venomous irony.

I swallow, trying not to stutter. “Thank you.”

“The crowd is certainly enjoying it.”

I blink. “Enjoying… what, exactly?”

He leans in, a predatory smile on his lips. “You and Asher. The chemistry, the tension. Brutal, bloody, and… entirely captivating. It makes it even more entertaining for them. Makes them spend even more money here tonight. You’re the highlight, Blair. I don’t know why we didn’t bring personal elements into the challenges sooner.”

My stomach twists. I glance down at the crowd—edgy-looking guys in expensive suits, the elite of the elites. To them, I’m just a show, a source of entertainment.

A horrible thought strikes me, cold and sharp. I remember the purple envelope in my letterbox, how Asher denied sending it. Maybe he didn’t.

“Was it you?” I breathe. “Did you invite me here tonight?”

Lex’s smile widens, though it’s devoid of warmth. “You’re sharper than you look. I should have known, from the way Asher always talks about you.”

My heart pounds.

“He… talks about me?”

“The Mortalis Society isn’t just a game. It’s a place for people who’ve embraced their true purpose—to live on the edge, unrestrained by society’s rules. To burn bright, even if it means burning out.”

“I don’t understand. Why would you invite me? Asher said he didn’t know anything about it.”

He steps closer, his gaze unsettling. “I like Asher. I saw potential in him the moment I watched him doing stunts on his bike two years ago. Brought him into our world. But there’s one thing holding him back.”

I swallow. “What’s that?”

“You.” His smile turns icy. “To control your destiny, Blair, you have to destroy your past.”

I’m his past. Every moment between us, every memory, every hurt—he’s still carrying it all.

Asher has been thinking about me. He’s been talking about me. He’s been obsessing over me.

All this time, I thought I was the only one holding on. But he hasn’t let me go either.

“And if the crowd loves the drama of it, all the better,” Lex says. “How do you make people care? Raise the stakes. How do you raise the stakes? Throw in emotion: love, hate, resentment. You and Asher have it all.”

I feel sick. We’re being used—more than I realized. Nothing about this is real to these people. It’s just a spectacle.

I lift my chin, forcing down the tremor in my voice. “I’m not giving up. I’ll win that money.”

Lex’s smile is like ice. “That’s the spirit. Fight to the very end.”

He motions to the ladder, and I don’t hesitate. I climb down as quickly as I can, desperate to escape his gaze. But as I descend, my mind races with what I’ve just learned.

So, Asher is still holding onto my memory.

I’m left with two terrible options ricocheting around my head.

Either he still loves me.

Or…

He wants me dead.

And he wants to be the one to do it.