Leo’s POV
By the time I was seventeen, I didn’t flinch anymore. The sound of bones breaking, the crack of a whip, the cries of someone begging for mercy—it all washed over me like white noise. Viktor and the others said it was a sign of strength, proof that I had become what they needed me to be.
What they had made me.
The assignments had escalated. No more silent kills, no more quick cuts to the heart or clean shots from a distance. Now, it was about endurance—how long I could draw out the pain, how much control I could maintain while breaking someone piece by piece.
“We’re not just teaching you how to kill,” Viktor told me one day, his voice calm but firm. “We’re teaching you how to destroy. How to make your enemies regret ever crossing you.”
I didn’t ask why. I never did anymore. V
