Destiny's Game* Chapter 52: Half Dead

Alexander’s POV

I couldn’t feel my arms or legs.

Everything was heavy—too heavy. It took a long, dragging mont before my eyes finally opened. The parts of my body that weren’t completely numb throbbed with a dull, hot pain.

"Oh, you’re awake."

The voice wasn’t Louis. It didn’t even try to be gentle. Cold. Amused. Wrong.

My heart lurched painfully against my ribs.

I tried to move—my fingers, my toes, anything—but nothing obeyed.

"Don’t bother," the voice said, footsteps approaching. "It’ll take a while before you can feel everything again. Louis overdid it this ti."

Louis...?

A wave of panic washed through , sharp enough to cut through the numbness.

"What... happened?" My voice cracked, sounding too small, too weak.

A low chuckle.

"You really don’t rember? Interesting."

A shadow shifted into my blurry view, leaning close enough that I felt breath against my ear.

"You should’ve stayed where he put you."

"Who are you?" I asked. My voice didn’t even sound like mine—rough, weak, barely pushed out of my throat.

"I’m Bill," he replied, far too casually for soone standing over a half-paralyzed Alpha. "Louis’ assistant... though honestly?" He leaned back, grinning like this was all entertainnt. "I’m more like his father’s only way of keeping tabs on him."

He chuckled, low and pleased with himself.

My stomach twisted.

Louis’ father.

Of course.

I tried to lift my head, but it felt like gravity had been multiplied just for .

"What... do you want?"

Bill crouched, tilting his head as if inspecting sothing fragile.

"Want? Nothing from you personally." His smile sharpened. "I’m just here to remind Louis that no matter how much he plays house... soone is always watching."

My chest tightened—not just from fear, but from sothing colder, heavier.

Because Louis wouldn’t have left like this.

Which ant sothing was wrong.

Very wrong.

"Unfortunately, you caught his father’s eye. Otherwise he would’ve killed you already." Bill said it like gossip, like he was discussing the weather.

"I an—look at you." He chuckled, hands in his pockets. "You look half-dead."

His words hit harder than the pain in my body.

Half-dead.

Wanted dead.

Saved only because soone worse had an interest.

I swallowed, or tried to. My throat felt like gravel.

"What... what does he want with ?" I whispered.

Bill smirked. "Want? Who knows? Maybe he’s curious. Maybe he’s bored. Maybe he just wants to see what kind of person could make Louis lose control."

He leaned closer.

"But whatever the reason... you being alive right now? That’s not luck. That’s ownership."

A cold shiver ran through —one I couldn’t physically hide.

"But at this rate," Bill continued, shrugging like it was all a harmless joke, "the old man is already late if he wants to control Louis now. My loyalty is only to him."

Only to Louis.

The words didn’t comfort —they made the air feel heavier.

I stared at him, forcing my eyes to focus, forcing my voice to co out.

"Then... why am I here?"

Bill smiled, slow and almost pitying.

"Because Louis doesn’t know what to do with you." He tapped a finger against the side of his head. "You make him think. You make him hesitate. And Louis doesn’t hesitate for anyone."

He leaned back, folding his arms.

"So I’m keeping you alive until he figures out whether he wants to protect you... or burn the entire world down because of you."

My breath caught.

Because for the first ti, I couldn’t tell which one he would choose.

"And we need soone to keep tabs on his father," Bill added, as if this was a simple errand and not a life-or-death tug-of-war between two monsters. "Louis trusted him, you know. But now..." He clicked his tongue. "Now that the old man wants his undoing? That possibility is finally feasible."

My breath hitched.

Louis... trusted him?

Bill’s expression cooled, the amusent fading for a mont.

"Louis is dangerous. You already know that. But his father?" He shook his head. "That man doesn’t care who he breaks to get what he wants. Even Louis."

Sothing cold settled in my stomach.

"So what does that have to do with ?" I murmured, even though I already knew the answer would ruin whatever calm I had left.

Bill smirked.

"You’re leverage. You’re a weakness. You’re a reminder. And honestly?" He lifted a brow. "You’re the perfect bait."

My heart thudded painfully in my chest.

Bait.

For Louis.

And for the man trying to destroy him.

Bill straightened up, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves like he didn’t just sentence to the middle of their war.

"Don’t worry," he said casually. "I’ll keep you alive. Louis would kill if I didn’t."

A faint scent hit each ti he leaned in—warm, sharp, unmistakable.

Sweat... and sothing sweeter beneath it.

"You sll like an oga," I muttered before I could stop myself.

His boot connected with my stomach so fast I didn’t even see him move. Pain exploded through my ribs, and the air was ripped out of my lungs.

Bill clicked his tongue.

"Unfortunately, I am," he said, as if the word itself offended him.

He crouched again, eting my eyes with a cold, steady glare.

"But I’m better than most Alphas."

His voice held no arrogance—just truth. A fact he had lived, bled, and survived to prove.

He leaned closer, his scent brushing against again, deliberate this ti.

"Oga doesn’t an weak," he said quietly. "It ans underestimated."

He tapped two fingers lightly against my forehead.

"And people who are underestimated? They’re the most dangerous ones in the room."

I swallowed, the pain and the truth sinking into my bones at the sa ti.

Bill stood up, dusting off his hands.

"Louis knows that," he added. "His father doesn’t."

He glanced toward the door.

"And that’s why this whole ss is about to get very interesting."

"Rest up," Bill said, brushing invisible lint from his sleeve as if he hadn’t just kicked the breath out of . "Louis’ father will be here soon."

A cold weight settled in my chest.

Behave.

Louis’ father.

Here.

Bill leaned down, his lips curling into a lazy smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Behave," he repeated softly, "or you might really die. And I don’t want that."

His tone dipped, playful in the worst way.

"You’re such a good toy."

My stomach twisted—anger, humiliation, fear, all tangled together.

Toy.

I forced myself to lift my head, even though it felt like lifting a boulder.

"You—"

"Shh." He put a finger to his lips, amused.

"Don’t strain yourself. You’ll need your strength if you want to survive a conversation with that man."

He turned away, his footsteps echoing across the room—calm, unhurried, like soone who knew no one could touch him here.

The door creaked open.

His voice drifted back one last ti.

"Try not to die before Louis gets here. He’d be upset—mostly with ."

The door shut.

And the silence that followed was sohow worse than his presence.

Even through the pain, all I could think of was Charles.

Where he was.

If he was safe.

If he was scared.

He was my knight in shining armor... even though I had known him far longer than he had known .

I t him when I was eleven.

Back then, I was painfully shy — the kind of quiet that ca from fear, not gentleness. I barely spoke in class. I barely looked people in the eye. Ho was never peaceful. My parents were always arguing, voices crashing into each other like thunder, and my father... my father was a jerk in the most unforgivable way.

He beat my mother.

Sotis behind closed doors.

Sotis where everyone could see.

He liked humiliation more than fists.

I learned early how to disappear into myself. How to make my presence small. How to breathe quietly so I wouldn’t attract attention.

And then there was Charles.

He transferred into my class in the middle of the term. New uniform. New shoes. Too bright for a place as dull and cruel as that school. He sat two rows ahead of . I rember thinking his hair looked like it had captured sunlight — ridiculous, maybe, but it was the first warm thought I’d had in a long ti.

On his first day, a group of older boys cornered behind the gym.

They called weak.

Quiet.

Useless.

I didn’t fight back. I never did.

I rember the sound of my backpack hitting the floor. The taste of blood on my tongue. I rember staring at the concrete and thinking, This is normal. This is just how the world works.

Then a voice shattered through it.

"Get away from him."

Clear. Sharp. Furious.

The boys laughed at first.

Until Charles stepped closer.

He wasn’t the biggest. He wasn’t the strongest. But sothing in his eyes made them hesitate — sothing fearless, sothing that didn’t know how to bend.

He stood between and them like he’d been doing it his whole life.

And they left.

Grumbling. Mocking. But they left.

I never thanked him properly. I didn’t know how. My voice wouldn’t co out. My hands shook too badly.

But from that day on, he always walked past my desk. Always waited near the gate. Always looked back to make sure I was there.

He didn’t know he was saving .

He thought he was just being nice.

And I... I started living for the monts I saw him smile.

My chest tightened painfully in the present.

Eleven years old.

Too young to understand love.

Old enough to understand safety.

Charles was the first place I ever felt safe.

And now—

Now I was lying half-paralyzed in a room that slled like power and threat, with Louis’ shadow looming over my life like a storm I couldn’t outrun.

My jaw clenched as the mory faded.

I survived that house.

I survived that man.

I will survive this.

But fear still coiled in my gut.

Because this ti...

It wasn’t just my life at risk.

It was Charles’.