3. An Impressive Display Of Vitality

The fire alarmsuddenly blared to life, interrupting Braun’s rampage.

He had thrown Isobel against the wall after she refused—again—to do the breast augmentation surgery. She sagged there, her arms wrapped around her ribs, glad for the distraction. There was a sharp pain in her torso, making it hard to draw breath.

Bellamy was holding his shirt over the lower half of his face, catching the blood that spilled from his broken nose. Isobel had no idea if her father had intended the vicious elbow he threw into the Beta’s face when Bellamy attempted to intervene, or if it had been an accident.

“I’ll be making that appointment again,” Braun threatened, grabbing his soft briefcase and filling it with his keys, two phones, and his wallet, before stalking for the door.

“Make as many as you want,” she wheezed, watching him go. “I’ll never give my consent.”

Bellamy was at her side as soon as Braun was out of sight, helping her to her feet as Cooper and his assistants flooded out of the apartment. One of the assistants paused to help Isobel, but her father barked from the hallway for the others to hurry up, and the assistant rushed out without looking back.

“Wait,” Isobel croaked when Bellamy tried to walk her to the door. “Go back to where Cooper was working. I think they left their laptops.”

He didn’t even pause, switching direction to help her into the breakfast room, where they found a line of laptops and tablets strewn across the table and the bar. Bellamy gently lowered her into a dining chair, and she pulled one of the tablets across the table, doing her best to ignore the pain in her ribs. She opened the first social media app and signed into her own account, searching for Dorm A.

There were no results.

“Didn’t that reporter the other day ask you why Dorm A deleted their account?” Bellamy asked. “Remember, they wanted to know if it had anything to do with the rumours that Ironside was working on something big for the next season? Cooper told them to back off before I could ask them anything.”

Isobel swore, trying to focus through the permanent, dizzy haze that had settled into her mind over the past few days. She typed each of their names individually, but still only found fan accounts.

Bellamy reached for the tablet. “Maybe I could?—”

She slapped his hand away, tapping out one more name.

Lily Sato.

There were only about a hundred options, but one of the account names caught her eye.

LilySquirt.

She tapped on the profile and saw dozens of fan-made videos of …

Herself.

Bellamy snorted. “Got a fan, you think?”

Isobel shushed him and saw the button asking her to respond to LilySquirt’s friend request. She clicked confirm, and then immediately tried to video call the account, holding the tablet up to her own face.

“Ohmygod Oskie!” The excitable screech was almost enough to rival the wailing fire alarm, though Lily’s voice was cracked and husky. “C-Car—C-Carter, hello it’s me, Lily.” The image on the camera shifted from black to a blur of colour, and then back to black, accompanied by a thump, and the scrape of nails as the blurry view was knocked around a little. “I dropped it!” Lily wailed before finally recovering her tablet and holding it up before her face with both hands.

The image was shaking.

Lily’s dark eyes were wide and sparkling, but the warm mahogany blush of her skin had grown sickly with a greyish pallor. Her breath was coming in short little gasps. “H-hello.”

“Hi, Lily.” Isobel smiled, working to keep all the pain from her own voice. It was hard to speak. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Lily was suddenly whispering. “I-is there a fire?”

“No, it’s just a drill. I … like your page. Did you make all those videos yourself?”

“Seriously?” Bellamy plopped down into the seat beside hers. “This is your one emergency call?”

“I did!” Lily squeaked, the colour rising in her cheeks. She had gone from ghostly pale to feverish very quickly. “I share everything you post! You’re such a good dancer. I really wanna be a dancer too?—”

“Who the hell are you talking to?” a deep voice grumbled, and the room behind Lily was suddenly flooded with light.

“It’s C-Carter!” Lily said, waving her tablet so that the image of her on screen blurred.

“I told you not to watch those videos all night.” Oscar sounded tired. He fell into the single bed beside Lily and reached for the tablet. “What did they post this time?”

He froze, his eyes connecting with Isobel’s.

“No, it’s really her.” Lily tried to wrestle the tablet off him, but he held it away from her. “She called me!”

“Just a minute, Squirt. Can I talk to Carter?”

Isobel stared at Oscar, her voice sticking in her throat. Bellamy suddenly sat up straight, his eyes flicking between her and the screen.

“Oskie.” Lily sounded like she was crying.

“Just a few minutes,” Oscar promised. “Just give me a few minutes.”

“She called me,” Lily repeated petulantly, and a door suddenly slammed.

“Is that the fire alarm?” Oscar demanded, his attention flitting to Bellamy before fixing on Isobel again. At the same time, he pulled out his phone and began tapping on the screen.

“Yes,” Bellamy confirmed, when the only sound that came out of her mouth was a short, devastated puff of air.

She wasn’t even sure what her relationship with Oscar was. They had been intimate, and yet there was nothing intimate about them. Other than the small detail of him being tied to her soul.

He was right there. Right there. And too far away. And she didn’t know what to say.

Suddenly, it all felt hopeless.

She was too tired. Even now, her eyelids were drooping. The adrenaline of her fight with her father, and then the alarm, was wearing off.

“Braun hurt you again,” Oscar said, his tone rough, but calm. Frighteningly so.

“Ye—” Bellamy started, but Oscar cut across him.

“Wasn’t a question. The recording is being sent to Teak. This is what we’ve been waiting for—though we weren’t expecting him to throw you halfway across the fucking room. She needed hard proof of abuse to go against your father’s wishes. I need you to hang up this call and erase the history on the device you’re using. We don’t want anything to send Braun over the edge before Teak gets there, okay?”

Isobel nodded dumbly.

“Say something,” Oscar demanded.

“Okay,” she croaked.

His firm lips flinched, pressing together tightly as a rumbling sound built up in his throat. His dark eyes were sharp, and … insane. They seemed to promise endless, bloody violence.

“Okay,” he echoed, the word a scrape of gravel. “We weren’t expecting you to find a way to contact us. I’m glad you did.” He glanced down at his phone and his words turned cutting. “The fire alarm will turn off in a few minutes. You need to get out of there.”

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Bellamy sighed, standing up and moving closer to Isobel.

Oscar snarled out an aggressive sound of warning. “Get your fucking hands off her, Beta.”

“She can’t walk on her own.” Bellamy avoided eye contact with the tablet.

Oscar flipped the camera down, and they listened to the tense silence for a moment before he brought it back up again, an erratic muscle ticking in his jaw. His eyes flickered with heat—the dangerous kind that hinted at an imminent explosion.

“Hurry,” he finally gritted out. “I’ll see you soon, Isobel. Stay out of your father’s way until Teak gets there. Pretend to be unconscious if you have to.”

“Thank you,” she managed to choke out. “Even if it doesn’t work, thank you for trying.”

“It’ll fucking work. I need you to hang up.”

She nodded, her finger shaking as she tapped the button to end the call, trying to memorise his face, etched in deep lines of fury, the shadows beneath his eyes darkening into bruises, his eyes still burning in that familiar, spine-tingling way.

“Seriously? Him?” Bellamy asked, snatching the tablet off her and quickly erasing the history before helping her to her feet. “There’s something wrong with that guy.”

“Sounds like we’re a good match, then.” Isobel sniffed, finally giving in to the pain in her ribs as her limbs began to shudder, almost like shock was settling in.

“Are you?” Bellamy pressed. “A match? A … couple? I just didn’t really think those rumours were true. Figured at the very least you wouldn’t be his type, or that you’d be staying faithful to your mate.”

“What do you imagine his type to be?” She felt a sneer building up behind the question, but bit it back. Barely.

“I don’t know.” He huffed. “Someone older. Someone crazy. Covered in tatts, maybe. A few piercings. Possibly a settlement engineer. Not the spoiled little princess of Ironside Academy.”

“You’re a dick,” Isobel huffed.

“I’m the dick who carries you to bed every night.”

“You’re all right, as far as dicks go.”

“High praise.”

“You’re welcome.”

He set her on the edge of her bed, and she groaned, falling back slowly as her dizziness fought with the sharp, throbbing pain in her ribcage. The combination blackened her vision.

The alarm shut off, and Bellamy dragged a chair over, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands. Isobel flung out an arm, swiping the tissue box by her bed and handing it to him.

He licked the end of a tissue and began cleaning the blood from his face, before realising just how much he had bled. With a huff, he launched from his chair, and she listened to her bathroom tap run before he returned, sinking back into his seat with bits of tissue stuck up each of his nostrils.

“I can hear them I think.” He turned to the door, tilting his head. “Pretend you’re asleep. Your dad always acts guilty after, you know … I think he’ll leave us alone.”

She closed her eyes to block out the spinning room. “I’ll just rest for a bit …”

“A bombshell was dropped this morning in coordinated posts across all Ironside social media accounts, creating a shockwave that quickly took over the internet. In the posts, it was revealed that there has been a joint decision by the Official Gifted Governing Body and the Ironside Board of Directors to split the show—and the Academy itself, in half! In a surprising turn of events, it appears that the upcoming season of the Ironside Show will be divided between two locations. A strategic move which has secretly been many years in the works.

“The first and second-year students will remain at the original location and will comprise a new, online-only segment: Ironside: Rising Stars. This new segment promises to be a complete digital experience with more opportunities for fan interaction than ever before.”

Isobel tried to force her eyes open as the broadcaster’s voice echoed sharply around her skull. She blinked blearily, squinting at the IV in her arm and the slow drip drip of the fluid bag hanging beside her bed.

She reached for the metal bed railing, a low groan catching in the back of her throat as she searched the empty hospital room. She was alone—the only sound coming from the TV—but there was a half-finished coffee on the bedside table, a chair pulled up beside it. There was also a vase of pretty yellow tulips by the window and a leather duffle beside the chair.

She turned her attention back to the TV, squinting at the headline that scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

Top secret location unveiled for the new Ironside Academy - The Icon race begins again!

“The third, fourth, and fifth-year students will be attending the new Ironside location …” The newscaster pulled at Isobel’s attention as she struggled to sit up. “This elite group of stars-in-training will now be the sole focus of the Ironside Show, raising the stakes of each episode?—”

The door swung open, Bellamy striding inside, a croissant half hanging from his mouth. “Wor wake,” he garbled around the pastry, before tearing it with his teeth and quickly swallowing. He dropped into the chair beside the bed, placing the croissant on the table beside the half-finished coffee and motioning the TV. “Heard the news, eh?”

She swallowed dryly, glancing back to the screen, where a new headline had replaced the last.

Countdown to premiere: how long until first look at new Ironside location?

“The stage is set,”the broadcaster announced, “and the Gifted are primed to redefine the boundaries of reality television once again, proving that the Ironside team truly are without equal when it comes to entertainment-making.”

“We’re—” She cleared her husky throat, trying again. “We’re moving to a new location? Where are we going?”

“France, I guess.” Bellamy shrugged, tugging open the duffle she had noticed and pulling out two envelopes. “We have tickets to Paris, at least. I overheard Teak telling your dad that he won’t be permitted on campus this time. There won’t be family days, anymore. They won’t allow settlement people to travel to Europe, just Ironside people. Not that your dad is a settlement person, but yeah, family days are now through video chat only.”

She fiddled with the sealed envelope he dropped into her lap, her eyes darting over his shoulder. “Teak?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re … in hospital. Teak brought us here.”

“I know I’m in a hospital,” she said dryly.

“Okay, but you haven’t even asked why you’re here.” He picked up his croissant again. “You’re far too relaxed about this.”

“I guess I’m used to it.” She winced, slowly stretching out her limbs. “At least this time I’m not covered in blood or—” She darted a quick glance to her scarred arms. “—stitches. It could be worse.”

“Hate to break it to you, Carter, but it is worse. They think you’re too sick to re-join Ironside.”

She froze, her inhalation sharp, which triggered a coughing fit so violent it had tears springing to her eyes.

“I’m … fin—” She stared at the back of her hand, which she had raised to her face.

It was spotted with blood.

What the fuck?

“Not fine,” Bellamy corrected her, also staring at her hand. “You have pneumonia.”

“How long have I been here?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“A few days now,” a cheerful voice declared as Teak’s face popped through the door. “So happy to hear your voice! How are you feeling?”

Confused.

She remembered fighting with her father, and the fire alarm going off. She remembered speaking to Oscar, and then Bellamy was carrying her to bed. After that, there was only blank space.

Bellamy swiped a tissue from the box on the table beside her bed, turning his back to Isobel and surreptitiously dropping the tissue beside her leg.

She stared at it as he shielded her from Teak with his body. Her stomach twisted sharply, and she quickly swiped up the tissue and scrubbed away the spots of blood from the back of her hand.

“I’m feeling so much better!” She forced a dose of energy into her tone—though it likely sounded a little manic—and shoved the tissue back into Bellamy’s hand, which he was holding conveniently open behind his back.

“Amazing!” Teak perched herself on the edge of Isobel’s bed as Bellamy stepped away, swiping up his coffee cup and croissant, and tossing everything into the bin.

“Going for a walk, I’ll give you guys some privacy,” he announced, before slipping outside and closing the door behind him.

Teak gripped Isobel’s hand, her soft brown eyes bleeding with sympathy. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get you out of there sooner. I saw that video of Bellamy carrying you to bed—is that when the sickness started?”

“Ah, I guess?” Isobel attempted a reassuring smile as Teak squeezed her surprisingly sore fingers. “I had the flu, and I just fell asleep after training. It wasn’t bad or anything. I think the stress made it worse.”

“Well …” Teak laughed hollowly, a brief flash of frustration tightening her features. “I don’t think it was just the stress. It seems the new surrogate pill wasn’t as effective as the previous version—you were the trial for this version, as it turns out. They want you to answer some questions about your experiences”—her jaw flexed—“when you’re up to it.”

Isobel flinched, the movement sending pain shooting down her stiff neck and into her spine. The effort to simply hold her head up was immense. She just wanted to go back to sleep. “I feel up to it,” she lied.

Teak surveyed her before blowing out a breath and pulling out some paperwork. She licked her finger, flicking past the first page before settling the tip of her pen to the page.

The questions were invasive and extensive.

Detail several instances where the surrogate pill dampened specific emotional responses to thoughts of your mate.

Describe any unusually vivid nightmares experienced while taking the surrogate pills. Please go into detail.

Describe any sexual dreams experienced while taking the surrogate pills. Please go into detail.

Describe any vivid hallucinations experienced while taking the surrogate pills.

Have you become significantly less able to perform social interactions?

Have you felt any intense sensations of loneliness or a strong pull toward suicidal ideation?

Did your time on the surrogate pills change your sense of self or force a re-evaluation of your personal values?

Did the surrogate pills trigger any unexplained physical sensations, such as sudden tingling, euphoria, or violent outbursts?

By the time Teak had finished with the first page of questions, Bellamy was back, and Isobel was struggling to speak. She shot him a desperate glance, and he perched on the other side of her bed, shooting off answers to half the questions before Isobel even had a chance. No, she hadn’t experienced any side effects of prolonging her unformed bond. Yes, that included teleportation. Yes, that included dreams. Yes, that included halos, red strings, flower crowns, and golden chains.

Her chin had tipped up at that question, suspicion winding through her mind as she examined Teak, who was writing each of Bellamy’s answers down.

Did they know about the string?

“So what happens now?” she croaked as Teak wrapped up the final page of questions and began to tuck the pages into her document case. “Can I go back to Ironside?”

Teak pursed her mauve-painted lips, making a sound of hesitation. “We’ll need to keep you for a little longer, I think, just to make sure your symptoms continue to improve.” She peered between Isobel and Bellamy like she knew very well that Bellamy was trying to cover for her. “You were in and out of consciousness when we brought you here, and you were pretty drugged up, so you may not remember it, but the doctor said you likely have pneumonia. You’ve been getting antibiotics through the IV, but we were growing increasingly concerned when you didn’t wake up again.”

“I probably just needed the sleep.” Isobel tried to joke. “Bellamy snores.”

She chanced a quick glance to the Beta—he had moved away from the bed again and was now busy on his phone, but there was a slight smirk hooking up the corner of his mouth.

Teak didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press the issue. “They’ve agreed to take you off the surrogate pills for now, but if you teleport back to Arizona, then you’ll be back on them faster than you can blink. They don’t want to waste resources flying you back and forth between America and France all the time.”

Isobel nodded that she understood, and Teak stayed for another half an hour, explaining that the European Gifted laws were more restrictive than the American Gifted laws and that most of Isobel’s luggage had been sent ahead to the new Ironside location—just in case. When Teak stood to leave, she seemed to waver, pulling another envelope from her pocket.

“Your father hasn’t come to visit since you were brought here, but one of his assistants dropped this off.” The bond specialist appeared unsure, worrying the envelope between her pinched fingers. “Do you want me to?—”

Isobel held out her hand. “It’s okay. I’ll read it. He’s probably apologising. He does that sometimes.”

Teak handed over the note and moved to the door but paused again as she held it open, her hand gripping the frame, her gaze flitting between Isobel and Bellamy. “I won’t be far,” she promised quietly. “And … if they don’t let you go back to Ironside, I’ll stay here.” She closed the door just as Isobel opened her mouth to argue.

“That bond specialist is Gifted,” Bellamy noted thoughtfully, staring at the closed door. “And hot. Have you seen her mate?”

“You only just realised?” Isobel felt her attention drawing back to the envelope in her lap.

“No.” Bellamy fell into the chair beside her bed again, also staring at the envelope. “I was prompting you to explain to me why there’s a Gifted official because nobody else seems to be able to explain it.”

“How can the officials claim to be specialists in something they can never experience?” She carefully tore open the envelope, sucking in deep, husky breaths as she contemplated unfolding the note that slipped out.

“Never stopped them before,” Bellamy grumbled. “So—her mate? He punching or what?”

“She isn’t punching. They’re well matched.”

“Think there’s any room for me in there?”

Her eye roll was not to be contained, despite how much the effort made her head ache. She flattened out the note, her fingers trembling violently as she tried to bring the words into focus.

To my daughter,

You don’t know where I came from. Not truly.

My home was brutal, stark, and full of suffering. I know my methods seem cruel, but I tried to give you everything I didn’t have. I climbed and worked and fought my way to the top of this world, just like I did inside Ironside, for you and your mother.

Because of me, you never wanted for anything—but of all the gifts I gave you, you can consider my harsh mentorship the most important.

You will need to climb and work and fight your way to the top just like I did, just to stay free of that place.

Don’t forget where you came from, Isobel, and don’t ever forget where I came from.

I paid for our ticket out of there with my blood, sweat, and soul. I won’t let you drag my bloodline back there. Not in my lifetime.

Regards,

Your father.

“So?” Bellamy asked, growing impatient. “What does he have to say?”

“The usual.” She dropped the paper onto her bedside table with the information packet on the new Ironside location, flopping back down with an exhausted groan. “It’s for my own good. I need to toughen up or I’m going to end up poor and pathetic like all the other Gifted.”

Bellamy snorted. “It’s like our dads took the same masterclass in being pretentious tyrants.”

She cut him a look, quirking up her brow—or at least she tried. In reality, she suspected it barely twitched. Bellamy didn’t talk about his father much. He returned her inquisitive look with a challenging stare, daring her to inquire further. She didn’t.

“So …” Bellamy leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs and stretching his arms above his head with a heavy yawn. “Why is it that I know you need to go back to Ironside and be surrounded by big-dick-Alpha-energy to get better, but the bond specialist doesn’t?”

“Because I’m guessing you didn’t tell her that I’ve been sick from the first day of summer break,” Isobel returned.

“Me?” He blinked at her, his arms falling back into his lap. “Sigma, they didn’t even ask me.” He laughed, shaking his head. “There was some other official who turned up with Teak—he had a private meeting with your dad, then he came out and gave Teak permission to call an ambulance.” He rolled back to his feet and reached over the end of her bed, swiping up a duffle. “Your dad packed this for you, by the way.”

He dropped it into her lap.

She wanted to shove it off the bed since it likely contained a designer outfit—which she would rather poke her eyes out than squeeze into at that moment—and a makeup kit, on the off-chance a camera crew managed to sneak into the hospital. She reached out to do just that, but instead found herself feeling for the zip, fumbling weakly to open it.

“That was not a convincing show of vitality, Carter.” Bellamy huffed out a sigh, leaning over and yanking the bag open for her. He helped her to sit up straighter, bundling the pillows behind her back so that she was propped up. She thanked him distractedly as she rooted around the contents, pulling out the predicted folds of clothing and the canvas makeup bag.

“What are you looking for?” He lifted his chin, peering into the duffle.

“I don’t know …” What was she looking for? She stilled, her fingers tangling around the strap of a smaller, cross-body handbag. She pulled it out, swallowing hard.

She had been wearing it the day of the shooting.

She tore it open and emptied it onto her blanket-wrapped lap, her heart jumping into her throat. Her phone tumbled out, along with a tube of lip balm, and a tangle of red string.

She tried to turn on the phone, but it was dead.

“Here.” Bellamy grabbed the device. “I’ve got a charger.” He knelt by the wall below the television, swiping up a cord that dangled to the ground. “Do you need to use mine?” He pulled his phone from his pocket as he walked back to her. “I’m back online and the Dorm A account is back too. Someone has been messaging me from it to check up on you.” He paused, his blond brows dipping together in consternation. “I know this sounds insane, but … I think they have access to the cameras in the hallway. I left the room the other day and the Dorm A account messaged me to go back immediately because someone else was in the room with you. It was just your doctor, for fuck’s sake.”

She winced. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” His brow smoothed out, his head dipping down to fix her with a piercing look. “What do you mean yeah, Carter?”

“Yeah, someone is probably watching the hallway cameras.”

Considering the Alphas had managed to gain control of the Ironside cameras and the cameras inside her father’s apartment, and the fire alarm in his apartment building, believing they would also get eyes inside the hospital was not a stretch for her. She ignored the phone Bellamy was holding out to her as she turned her attention back to the string tangling between her fingers.

She wanted to call one of them. To hear Theodore’s smooth, deep voice, or Kilian’s silky tones. Or even Gabriel’s calm, steady reassurances.

She would kill to video call Cian. To see the intent look in his aquamarine eyes, to watch his tattooed hands brushing his hair from his face.

Or Kalen?—

But no, not with Bellamy in the room. Not when she felt like she couldn’t even lift her head more than a few inches from the pillow. She just needed to sleep, just a little more …

“Whoa, Carter.” Bellamy caught her as she began to fall sideways, flattening the pillows out again and laying her down.

Her eyes fluttered, sweet darkness blacking out her vision as the weight of the bag lifted away from her lap and the blanket was pulled up to her face.

“Wake me up before anyone comes in,” she mumbled, turning on her side, her hands curling beneath her chin, the string bundled up tight in her grip.