Leo’s POV
By the time I turned fourteen—or so Viktor told me—I had stopped questioning the things they asked me to do. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to. Deep down, a part of me still recoiled at the blood, the screams, and the broken bodies they left in my wake. But questioning wasn’t allowed, and hesitation wasn’t forgiven. Viktor had made that clear from the start.
“Your family was betrayed because they trusted the wrong people,” he reminded me one day as I stood over the shattered remains of my latest target. “Weakness cost them their lives. You can’t afford to be weak.”
Weakness. The word burned like acid in my chest, a constant reminder of why I couldn’t fail. My parents—the ones Viktor said I was avenging—had paid the price for their mistakes. I wouldn’t make the same ones.
At
