Unraveling the Truth

Emily's POV

The bed felt too big. Too empty.

I woke up alone.

My fingers grazed the cold sheets beside me, a cruel reminder that Alexander had been here-only to leave, just like everyone else had. My chest ached in a way I despised. I should have felt relieved that he was gone, that I had a few moments of peace without his suffocating presence. But all I felt was hollow.

God, I hated him.

I hated him for what he did to me. For what he made me feel. For the way he consumed me until there was nothing left.

I dragged myself to the kitchen, expecting silence.

But what I saw made my breath hitch.

Alexander Nikolai stood by the stove, flipping a pancake with precise, effortless movements. He was shirtless, the muscles of his back shifting as he worked, his dark hair still slightly messy from sleep. He looked out of place in my tiny kitchen, yet completely at home-like he owned the space.

Like he owned me.

For a second, I just watched. It was an unsettling sight-him, the man who commanded armies and destroyed lives, casually making breakfast as if he weren't the very thing that haunted my nightmares.

Then he turned.

His piercing grey eyes met mine, and something flickered in his gaze-something dark, something knowing. He smirked, because of course he did.

"You're up," he said smoothly, as if this was normal. As if he belonged here.

I swallowed hard, masking the emotions threatening to claw their way to the surface. "What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Making breakfast. Obviously."

I clenched my fists. "You disappeared for days, and now you're-what? Playing house?" My voice wavered, and I hated that he'd notice.

Alexander put the pan down and leaned against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. "You think I left you?" His voice was dangerously low, amused in a way that sent a shiver down my spine. "I never left, kotenok. You just couldn't see me."

I sucked in a sharp breath.

He'd been watching me. Always watching me.

I hated how my heart twisted at his words. How the loneliness that had been eating me alive momentarily eased. I should be furious. I was furious. But beneath that anger, beneath all the hatred, there was something else.

Something I couldn't escape.

"Why?" I whispered, more to myself than to him. "Why do you keep doing this?"

Alexander exhaled slowly, pushing off the counter and walking toward me. I should've stepped back, but I didn't. He reached out, his fingers brushing against my jaw, tilting my face up to his.

"Because you're mine," he murmured. "And I don't let go of what's mine."

Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "I'm not yours, Alexander. I never was."

His grip tightened, just enough to make me aware of his strength. "That's where you're wrong, kotenok. You were never free to begin with."

I forced myself to breathe. "What does that mean?"

He held my gaze for a moment, then sighed, releasing me. "Eat first."

"Tell me first."

His jaw ticked, but he turned away, grabbing a plate and setting it down in front of me. "Dayavolicia isn't just an organization," he said finally, his voice quieter now. "It's a legacy. An empire built on blood and ancient laws that can't be broken."

I swallowed hard. "And the Primarchs?"

Alexander's expression darkened. "The ones who created it. Ruthless men who decided centuries ago how the world should be ruled. Their word is absolute." He looked at me then, his blue eyes unreadable. "And you, Emily, were never meant to escape them."

My stomach twisted. The room felt smaller, suffocating.

The Primarchs

Alexander sat down across from me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might hold back, but then he exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face.

"They weren't just men," he said. "They were something else. Powerful. Unforgiving. They built Dayavolicia out of blood and war, carving out an empire so feared that even kings bent to their will."

I shivered. "Who were they?"

His eyes locked onto mine. "Your ancestor. And mine."

I stopped breathing.

"The Primarchs weren't just rulers-they were monsters in human skin," Alexander continued, his voice like steel. "They believed in one thing-power. They destroyed anyone who stood in their way, including their own blood."

I shook my head. "That doesn't-"

"Your family was one of them, Emily," he cut me off, his voice sharp. "The same blood that runs in my veins runs in yours. That's why you were never free."

A cold dread settled in my stomach.

"I don't believe you."

Alexander leaned forward, his gaze pinning me in place. "Then tell me, kotenok-why do you think the Primarchs' blood pact was written with your family's name in it? Why do you think, century after century, our bloodlines were forced to merge?"

I felt like I was going to be sick.

The Primarchs weren't just ancient rulers. They were monsters. And I was one of them.

I pushed back from the table, shaking. "This is insane."

Alexander tilted his head. "No, kotenok. This is your reality."

I swallowed hard, my mind reeling. If our ancestors were Primarchs, that meant other families were too.

I forced myself to look at him. "Who else?"

Alexander's lips curled into a smirk, but there was no amusement in it. "You really want to know?"

I nodded, gripping the table to steady myself.

"There were twelve families," he said, voice low. "Each one ruthless, each one powerful. The world feared them, worshipped them. But over time, wars broke them apart. Some were wiped out, some faded into obscurity, and some... some are still watching."

My heart pounded. "Who's left?"

Alexander leaned back, his expression unreadable. "The Nikolais." His gaze darkened. "The Volkovs.."

My breath caught.

"And a few others," he continued. "Families that chose power over blood. Those who sold their loyalty to the highest bidder. They're the ones we watch for."

I swallowed hard. "Are they dangerous?"

Alexander's smirk faded completely. "Very."

The knock shattered the silence like a gunshot.

Alexander went still. His entire body tensed, and in an instant, his hand wrapped around the gun on the counter. His eyes darkened, the playful arrogance from earlier vanishing like smoke.

I felt it too. The shift.

Whoever was on the other side of that door wasn't just someone.

Alexander moved without hesitation, his steps silent as a predator's. He reached the door, but he didn't open it. Instead, he stood there, listening. Watching. Calculating.

Then, without a word, he unlatched the lock and yanked the door open.

A man stood on the threshold.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in a sleek black coat, the dim light casting long shadows across his sharp, angular face. But it was his eyes that struck me first-cold, calculating gray. The kind of eyes that had seen death and never looked away.

He wasn't startled by the gun aimed between his ribs. He wasn't afraid at all.

He smirked.

"Alexander," he said smoothly.

Alexander didn't lower the gun. "Leonid Mikhailov".

I stiffened.

I didn't know his name, but I knew what he was.

Danger.

Leonid's gaze slid past Alexander-to me.

I felt it the moment his eyes landed on me. The weight of it. The way he dissected me in a single glance, peeling me apart layer by layer. A slow, eerie smirk stretched across his face, but it wasn't friendly. It wasn't anything but a warning.

"So," he murmured. "This is the Volkov girl."

Before I could react, Alexander moved.

Fast.

He grabbed Leonid by the collar and slammed him against the doorframe so hard the walls shook. The gun was now under Leonid's chin, pressing into his throat.

I had never seen Alexander like this.

Pure, unfiltered violence coiled in his muscles, a storm barely restrained.

Leonid didn't flinch. Didn't blink.

And then-he laughed.

Low. Mocking.

"Still as rabid as ever," he murmured, his voice smooth despite the pressure of the gun. "Tell me, Alexander, does she even know what's coming?"

Alexander's grip tightened. "You have ten seconds to say what you came for before I end you."

Leonid exhaled a slow, amused breath. Then, as if completely unfazed, he reached into his coat.

I tensed.

Alexander didn't move, but I knew-I knew-if Leonid pulled out something more than paper, blood would paint these walls.

But all he retrieved was an envelope.

Thick. Sealed with black wax. The emblem pressed into it was something I didn't recognize-but Alexander did.

His face darkened.

Leonid smirked and pressed the envelope into Alexander's chest. "It seems the remaining Primarchs are... curious," he murmured. "They want to meet your little Volkov."

The air in the room changed.

It became suffocating. Cold.

I felt the weight of his words settle on my chest, squeezing, suffocating.

Alexander snatched the envelope from his hand, tearing it open in one sharp motion. His eyes scanned the contents, his expression unreadable.

Then, he crumpled the letter in his fist.

"She's not going."

Leonid tilted his head, amused. "Are you sure? Because from where I stand, it doesn't look like you have much of a choice." His blue eyes flicked to me. "Neither does she."

My blood turned to ice.

"The Primarchs want to see her," Leonid continued, his voice laced with dark amusement. "They thought the Volkov bloodline had been erased. And yet..." He smirked. "Here she is."

Alexander's knuckles went white. "If they think they can claim her, they're mistaken."

Leonid chuckled. "You of all people should know, Alexander... The Primarchs don't ask. They take."

Something in my chest snapped.

I gritted my teeth and stepped forward. "Enough with the riddles. Who the hell are the Primarchs? And why do they care about me?"

Leonid looked at me then-truly looked at me. And for the first time, his smirk faded.

"They aren't just men, Volkov," he murmured. "They are gods in their own right. Ruthless. Unforgiving." His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "They built an empire on blood and war. And they will not tolerate loose ends."

I felt my heartbeat in my throat.

"Your family was one of them," Leonid continued. "One of the twelve. Feared. Respected. But they made a mistake."

I swallowed hard. "What mistake?"

Leonid's gaze darkened. "They underestimated their enemies."

A chill slithered down my spine.

Alexander was silent, but his fists were shaking. His eyes burned with something unreadable.

Leonid sighed. "The Volkovs were hunted. Erased. Their power shattered and scattered to the wind." He tilted his head slightly. "Until you."

I clenched my fists. "I don't want any part of this."

Leonid smirked. "And yet, here you are."

I turned to Alexander. "Tell me you can stop this."

He didn't answer right away. And that silence-that silence-was more terrifying than anything else.

Leonid chuckled. "Poor thing." He straightened, smoothing out his coat. "You were never meant to be free."

The words settled in my bones like poison.

Leonid stepped back into the doorway, casting one last glance at Alexander. "The Primarchs are waiting. And you know what happens when they are kept waiting."

Then, with a final smirk, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

The silence he left behind was deafening.

I turned to Alexander. He was still gripping the crumpled letter, his breathing slow but dangerous.

Then, without warning, he grabbed the nearest glass and threw it against the wall. It shattered instantly, shards flying across the room.

My body tensed, but I didn't flinch.

Because I understood.

For the first time since meeting Alexander Nikolai, I saw something I had never seen in him before.

Fear.

Not for himself.

For me.

And somehow, that terrified me even more.

Oh, and-brace yourselves. Shit is about to get dark. You think this was intense? You're not ready for what's coming.

♡♡DON'T FORGET TO VOTE & COMMENT! ♡ Scream, rant, theorize-but don't steal my work, or Leonid will find you.

See you next chapter! ♡♡♡