Rise of the Immortal

Chapter 10: The Performance

Marcus's satisfaction was palpable as I stood before his desk, my decision hanging in the air between us like smoke. After five years of defiance, he'd finally found the key to my compliance—not my own suffering, but the threat to an innocent girl who reminded me too much of who I used to be. He knew my answer before I could even speak.

"Excellent," he said, leaning back in his chair with the expression of a man who'd just won a particularly challenging game. "I knew you'd see reason eventually. The question was simply finding the right motivation."

I said nothing, keeping my gaze fixed on a point just over his shoulder. Speaking would only give him more ammunition, more ways to twist my words into weapons against Elena or myself.

"Now then," Marcus continued, rising from his seat to pace behind his desk, "we'll need to prepare you for your debut. The Alpine Council meeting is in three days—perfect timing for your first public appearance as a cooperative member of my alliance."

My stomach clenched. Three days to transform from broken prisoner to willing collaborator. Three days to learn how to smile while betraying everything I'd once believed in.

"Greg will escort you to more appropriate accommodations," Marcus said, gesturing toward his beta. "You'll need proper clothing, adequate nutrition to restore some color to your cheeks, and time to practice the role you'll be playing."

"What role is that?" I asked, my voice coming out rougher than I'd intended.

Marcus's smile was sharp as a blade. "Why, the reformed white wolf, of course. The dangerous creature who learned the value of proper guidance and chose cooperation over chaos. You'll be living proof that even the most problematic wolves can be successfully integrated into a stable hierarchy."

The words made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to nod. For Elena. I was doing this for Elena.

"I want to see her," I said. "The girl. I want to make sure she's safe before I agree to anything public."

Marcus's eyebrows rose slightly. "Making demands already? How refreshing. Very well—after you've cleaned up and had a proper meal, you may visit your young friend. Consider it a gesture of good faith."

As Greg led me from the office, I caught sight of my reflection in the polished surface of Marcus's desk. The woman staring back looked like a ghost—hollow-eyed, sharp-boned, worn down to nothing but stubborn will and desperate hope. In three days, I would have to transform this wreck into something presentable enough to convince a room full of Alphas that I was content with my captivity.

The accommodations Marcus had arranged were a significant upgrade from my cell, though still obviously a prison. A real bed with clean sheets, a small bathroom with running water, even a window—barred, but it let in actual sunlight for the first time in years. The sudden exposure to natural light made my eyes water, but I stood at that window for long minutes, drinking in the sight of sky and clouds like a woman dying of thirst.

A knock at the door interrupted my first taste of freedom in years. A woman I didn't recognize entered carrying a tray of food—real food, not the scraps I'd grown accustomed to. Roasted chicken, fresh vegetables, bread that didn't taste of mold. My stomach cramped at the sight of it, reminding me how long it had been since I'd eaten anything substantial.

"Marcus says you're to eat all of it," the woman said, setting the tray on a small table. "And there's clothes in the wardrobe. You're to make yourself presentable."

She left without another word, locking the door behind her. I approached the food cautiously, half-convinced it was poisoned or drugged. But hunger won out over paranoia, and I forced myself to eat slowly, fighting the urge to devour everything at once. My shrunken stomach protested the rich food, but I persevered. I would need my strength for whatever was coming.

The clothes in the wardrobe were simple but well-made—jeans that would actually fit, sweaters in soft colors, even proper undergarments. After five years of wearing the same torn rags, the feeling of clean fabric against my skin was almost overwhelming. I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror and barely recognized the woman looking back. Still too thin, still haunted around the eyes, but human again. Almost.

True to his word, Marcus allowed me to visit Elena that evening. Greg escorted me to her cell—a mirror image of the one I'd occupied for so long, complete with moldy blankets and a bucket for waste. The sight of her huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around her knees, sent a spike of protective fury through me that I had to quickly suppress.

"Elena?" I called softly through the bars. "It's Talia."

She looked up, and I saw the same hollow look in her eyes that I'd worn for years. Five days in this place had already begun to break her spirit.

"Talia! You look... different than I thought you would."

I glanced down at my clean clothes, my washed hair. "Marcus is keeping his end of a bargain. Are you hurt? Has anyone touched you?"

"No," she said quickly, scrambling to her feet and approaching the bars. "The food is terrible and it's so cold, but no one's hurt me. What bargain? What did you do?"

I met her eyes through the metal bars, seeing the fear and confusion there. "Nothing you need to worry about. Just... stay strong, okay? Don't give them any reason to hurt you, and this will all be over soon."

It was another lie, but she needed hope more than truth.

"Talia," she whispered, pressing closer to the bars, "there's something else. I heard the guards talking. They said something about the Alpha King, about him getting close to finding this place. They seemed worried."

My heart stopped. Kale. After five years, was he getting closer to finding me?

"What exactly did they say?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Something about moving operations, about the King's forces being only a few territories away. One of them said Marcus might have to accelerate his timeline."

Before I could ask more questions, Greg's hand landed on my shoulder. "Time's up. Marcus wants to see you."

I wanted to stay, to comfort Elena, to ask more about what she'd heard. But I'd made my deal, and I had to honor it. "I'll come back when I can," I promised her.

As Greg led me away, Elena's information churned in my mind. If Kale really was close to finding us, if Marcus felt pressured to move quickly, then my cooperation might be more crucial than I'd realized. Whatever Marcus had planned for the Alpine Council meeting, he needed me compliant and convincing.

Back in Marcus's office, I found him poring over maps with several wolves I didn't recognize—Alphas, judging by their bearing and the deference shown to them by the guards.

"Ah, Talia," Marcus said without looking up. "Much better. Gentlemen, may I present our white wolf?"

The visiting Alphas turned to study me with the intensity of men evaluating livestock. I forced myself to stand straight, to meet their gazes without flinching.

"She's smaller than I expected," one of them said. "Are you certain she's the one causing all this trouble?"

"Size can be deceiving," Marcus replied smoothly. "Would you like a demonstration of her abilities?"

"No," I said quickly, perhaps too quickly. The last thing I wanted was to reveal that my wolf had been stirring again, that the protective instincts Elena had awakened might be rebuilding my connection to power I'd thought was lost forever.

Marcus's eyes sharpened on me. "No? How interesting. Your wolf has been quite cooperative lately, hasn't she?"

It was a test, and we both knew it. "She understands the value of restraint," I said carefully.

The visiting Alphas exchanged glances. "If she's truly as powerful as the reports suggest," one of them said, "how do we know she won't turn on us the moment she regains her strength?"

"Because she's learned the cost of defiance," Marcus replied. "Haven't you, Talia?"

I thought of Elena, alone in her cell. Of the photographs Marcus had shown me, all those destroyed packs. Of the choice I'd made to surrender my pride to protect someone who couldn't protect herself.

"Yes," I said quietly. "I have."

The meeting continued for another hour, with Marcus outlining his plans for the Alpine Council gathering. I would be presented as proof that white wolves could be managed, that his methods were superior to the chaos that had followed my original escape. The other Alphas seemed convinced, though I caught glimpses of doubt in their eyes when they thought I wasn't looking.

Later, alone in my upgraded prison, I sat by the barred window and watched the sun set over the mountains. Somewhere out there, Kale might be searching for me. After five years, the thought seemed almost impossible to believe, but Elena's words had planted a seed of something I'd thought was dead forever.

Hope.

Not hope for rescue—I'd learned better than to rely on fairy tale endings. But hope that my choices might still matter, that the performance I was about to give might serve a purpose beyond Marcus's ambitions.

If Kale really was close, if he really was still looking for me, then I needed to find a way to send him a message. Some sign that I was alive, that this place existed, that the prisoners Marcus held were more than just political leverage.

The Alpine Council meeting would put me in a room full of Alphas, some of whom might have connections to Red Moon territory. If I was careful, if I played my role perfectly while looking for the right opportunity...

I pressed my face against the cool metal of the window bars and made myself a promise. I would give Marcus his cooperative white wolf. I would smile and nod and play the role of reformed prisoner. But underneath the performance, I would be watching, waiting, planning.

Elena had given me information. Marcus had given me access. And somewhere in the combination of those gifts, there might be a chance—not for rescue, but for resistance.

The woman who had entered this room hours ago had been broken, defeated, ready to surrender everything for the safety of one frightened girl. The woman who watched the stars appear in the darkening sky was something different.

Still broken, perhaps. Still defeated in all the ways that mattered. But no longer quite so ready to give up.

Tomorrow, I would begin preparing for the performance of my life. And maybe, just maybe, I would find a way to turn Marcus's victory into something that looked a little less like defeat.

The first star appeared above the mountains, and I made a wish I hadn't dared to make in years.

Let Kale still be looking. Let him be close enough to matter.

And let me be strong enough to help him find me.