Word Count: 2278

~Avia

Yawing, I settle into bed. Finally.

I've only just returned from the compound. Visiting there so late has been weighing on me, but it's not like I have much of a choice. At some point I have to relay all the information I've garnered from being here to them, and this hour is the only possible one.

Just as I turn my lamp off and my eyes flutter closed, the sound of footsteps out in the hallway rouse me. I don't remember anyone mentioning they would be up at this hour, and all the staff should be asleep.

As I sit up, wary of the commotion, the door to my bedroom is flung open, hitting the far wall with a bang.

Three figures with dark hoods pulled up to conceal their faces charge into the room, aiming right for my bed. I don't even get the chance to lean to grab the dagger strapped under my side table, as two of them seize both my arms, yanking me from the bed.

"Woah...What's going on?" I demand, before I'm pushed onto the floor, wincing as the breath is knocked from my lungs from the impact.

They ignore my protests as two work together to tie my hands behind my back with coarse rope. Their entire person is covered head to toe in black, their identities hidden. To their thighs, knives are strapped, and I wouldn't doubt they have weapons. Not that they need it, they are all clearly very strong, this plan months, if not years in the making.

And now I'm in the centre of it.

"Quiet," one of them hisses, hushing my rambling protests.

I'm pulled back onto my feet, and then pushed through the door, the man behind me keeping a tight grip on my wrists. Whoever these people are, I'm not going to push my luck. At least not until I get a decent shot on them.

We wind down the stairs and into the main foyer, where both Isaiah and Zire are kneeling, surrounded with darkly dressed figures, all armed. I'm shoved down next to them, catching their eyes. Neither Isaiah nor Zire look frightened, but there is a wariness in their eyes upon seeing me. Where is Elise?

"Isaiah, what's happening?" I whisper, glancing up at our captors. How did they get into this place? They are all armed, but so are Isaiah's men. There is not doubt this is a plan that has been in motion for quite some time.

"It's okay Kenna, just keep calm," Isaiah murmurs softly, head bowed.

Zire seems to have been the only one to have sustained any injury, his lip cut and bleeding, a bruise already forming on his left cheekbone. I'm not surprised, he would have put up a fight, whereas Isaiah would have been smart enough to know that moments like this require more thought then to merely lash out.

"Who are they?" I mouth.

"Rebels, I assume," Zire replies lowly, jaw settling into a firm.

I frown, looking back up to examine them. As my gaze sweep over them, I realise none of them are familiar, meaning they aren't from my group. So who are they? It's not secret there are other rebel groups in the Passion Pack, I just had no idea any of them were close to actually getting to Isaiah.

What if they kill him?

My gaze pauses of one of the men, whose hood is pulled back enough that in a certain light, I can see his features. I know him, or knew of him. I doubt he knows me, but he was once part of a rebel group we were friendly with, before he transferred to another...Now he is here, likely with the intention of killing all of us, without even knowing I'm a rebel myself.

Suddenly, the man pulls his hood down, revealing light brown hair and those blue eyes that are part of the only reason I remember him. He comes to stand right before us, arms crossed over his chest.

"Alright, we better make this quick."

"I have money, if that's what you want," Isaiah states calmly. "I just ask you leave everyone in my manor alone."

"Shut up Alpha, we don't need your money," he taunts, crouching down to Isaiah's level. The man is lucky Isaiah's hands are bound behind him, especially with the way he is looking at him. "We need your father."

Isaiah shakes his head. "He doesn't live here full time."

I haven't even seen his father yet, mercifully. He's the one who killed my parents, so when I do see him, I can only imagine how difficult it will be to contain my anger. By the sounds of it, this rebel group exists for the same reason as mine does - to take down Isaiah's whole family. Most groups nowadays intend to target Isaiah alone, having not experienced the wrath of his father, the earlier Alpha.

"Where is the key to his office?" the rebel demands. Isaiah's eyes track his movements, as he pulls a dagger from it's sheath, letting the light trace the blade, and the detailing on the handle.

Idiot. Does he not know that he should never bring personal weapons to a fight like this? There is no use to Isaiah remembering his weapon and using it to track him down later. All my handcrafted items remain safe at the compound.

"He has it on his person at all times," Isaiah responds calmly. Even I can't tell if he is lying or not.

The rebel seems to have decided. "You're lying."

"I have no reason to lie," Isaiah reminds him, motioning with his head at Zire and I next to him. "You have us here tied up, I just want to keep my people safe."

I can feel the tension in Zire as he kneels next to me, the heat of his glare doing little to discourage any of the rebels. Were I in anything other than my bed clothes, I may have something to untie us both on his person, and then we may have a shot. One of us would likely not come out of it unscathed, though...

"We are your people, Isaiah, we are your Pack members and you never gave a damn about us, huh?" The rebel's voice raises with every word, the hurt and pain laced amongst his words making his stomach churn.

I know better than anyone what that kind of pain can lure you to do.

"Don't hit him," another rebel scolds, coming up to stand next to the kneeling one. "If we want to hurt him, maybe we should hurt the girl."

Even though I can't see any of their eyes, the tilts of their heads suggest their attention is now trained on me. It wouldn't take much, to alert them to the fact that I am a rebel myself, and that I know of all their groups, and my own, to prove it. It would get me out of here, surely. And I would take that option, before dying here for Isaiah or Zire. But I can take a few punches before dissolving the entire plan Malin and I have constructed.

"No...Listen to me, you don't want to hurt me," I warn them, trying to shuffle back, but it's hard when I'm losing balance with every movement.

"You're the daughter of that Noble, aren't you?" the Rebel exclaims, getting back to his feet. I can hear the grin in his voice, mingling with the pure, uncompromising hatred. "I'm going to take so much pleasure in killing you."

"Kill? Since when do you kill?" I snap, glaring up at him.

The group he was once in was one of honour, who had the same intentions as we did. No needless killing. Taking the life of a Noble's daughter does not ultimately benefit the overall plan. Now, it seems, I am wrong about him.

"Don't act like you know me," he growls. "You rich people know nothing about us, our struggle...The rebellion."

"Killing is only going to make things worse. There are better ways to deal with you pain," I assure him. It's almost like I'm begging him to recognise me without making it obvious. But he's too blinded by the thrill of power from the success of his plan thus far. Even so, would he spare me?

He narrows his eyes, before slapping me straight across the face. "Shut up."

I yelp, the force of the slap pushing my head to the side. Gritting my teeth, I bow my head, trying hide my pain, the sting of pain lingering in my cheek and jaw. I haven't been hit by a grown man like that in a long time, and the reminder arises dark, sickening memories that pain me more than the impact.

"I don't have the key, but I'm strong enough to kick the door down," Isaiah cuts in quickly.

He's trying to protect me, I realise. Looking at him, the challenge gleams in his eyes, daring the rebels to agree to his terms. What is in that office that the rebels want so desperately? Whatever it is, I want it too, but I'm not going to get it unless we can get out of this situation, and Isaiah offering himself up is not the solution.

"He's lying," one of the Rebels from the back mutters.

"We brought chains just so he couldn't break out and kill us," another notes. I look toward Isaiah, and sure enough, his wrists are chained back behind him, whereas Zire and I are bound only by rope. "I'm sure as hell not strong enough."

The brunette Rebel gives me a lasting look before turning back to Isaiah. Once my group takes over Isaiah's estate, his reign, I'm not going to make him or Zire suffer this much. Even if a dislike them, they don't deserve this much fear of the unknown, the worry of whether the people they care about are going to get hurt.

"Fine. But your chains remain on," the rebel mutters, gesturing for the others to surround Isaiah, to keep their hands on him at all times.

"Follow me," Isaiah murmurs.

As a group, they walk from the foyer, one other rebel lingering at the entrance of the hallway to make sure Zire and I don't attempt a daring escape. My back is to him, making me anxious, leaving me forced to look ahead at the front door, or at the second-in-command next to me, who has his head bowed, hair a similar colour to the blood now drying at his lips and chin.

"You work with them?" Zire asks quietly, glancing at me.

He doesn't seem accusatory, or even angry. He knows I don't work with them, not after I was hit like that, but he's broaching a question I'm terrified to answer. Am I Rebel too? He knows the answer to that one too, by whatever deductive reasoning he managed to use that I hope no one else knows about.

"No," I whisper, keeping my gaze trained on the marble floor's reflective surface. "But I know them."

"If you don't mean any of us harm, talk to them, get us out of here," he begs. He tugs at his binds, but to no avail. If we stand, we will be shot by the Rebel behind us. So we are helpless, unless of course, I can use my words to get us out of here...But it's not that simple.

"I can't..."

"I won't bother you again. You can stay here, but only if you mean none of us any harm," he barters.

"Harm won't come to any of you," I assure him. I'm not sure if I mean that, but this isn't about making fair deals. If things were fair in this Pack, then this mission would never have needed to happen to begin with. "I just need information."

"I'll get you information, if you make sure my existence doesn't get out to anyone." He's serious. He wants me to keep him out of everything? Does Isaiah know that's what he wants. "Then you're gone."

I don't hesitate. "Deal."

"What are we going to do about the rebels?" Zire asks.

I frown. I have about as much of a plan as he does. Perhaps Zire and I could take down the Rebel by the door if we time it right, maybe cause a diversion. But then there's the issues of all the others, and by now, Isaiah could be dead. Once he gives them the information they want, does he really think they will let him go alive?

A horrible strangled yelp sounds from behind us, and then the sound of a body hitting the floor. Zire and I both turn to the best of our abilities, looking for the origin of the sound.

Isaiah stands at the entrance to the hallway, looking down at a dead Rebel, their blood pooling out across the floor. Isaiah too, is covered in blood. It's on his hands, up his arms and splattered across his face. In his right hand, the dagger belonging to the brunette rebel, the blade dripping with blood.

There's no emotion to his tone as his emerald eyes cast toward us. "They're all dead."

💙••💙

If you enjoy the story, it's always ten chapters ahead on Radish. It's another way of supporting me as a writer, so thank you! Otherwise, I'll be updating here on Wattpad consistently as well.

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!! Thank you all!

I hope you guys enjoyed!!

Instagram: Sophie_Midika

Snapchat: Midikacrane

~Midika 💜🐼