Chapter 10 - Till Death Do Us Apart

“Orders from above! I raid River’s military headquarters with a squad of my choosing. Tonight.” Argent announced, barging into Hound’s small, dimly lit room. The space, modestly given by the organization, was far from luxurious but still better than the streets.

“Good for you,” Hound muttered, unmoving on the thin brown mattress, his eyes shut, voice laced with apathy.

“And guess what? My squad...my squad is just me...and you!” she cheered, clapping her hands together like a child given a new toy. “Wait, does that make us a duo? Anyway, I know you’ve been moping about your precious vitaecer. You’ve had weeks for that! Time to get up, soldier—your tattoo session starts now. Isn’t this exciting?”

“You want to raid the most fortified place in River with just the two of us? That’s a death wish,” Hound scoffed, keeping his eyes closed.

“I wouldn’t have taken this job if I didn’t think it could benefit you,” Argent replied, her cheerful tone fading as she sat beside him, suddenly serious. “There are plenty of people out there who are stronger, faster, smarter than you. But I chose you because of something very few people know.”

Hound finally opened his eyes, his blank expression meeting her mischievous yet calculating gaze.

“Your core is stronger than your body, and that makes you weak,” she said, her voice dripping with a mix of amusement and malice. Her smile was devilish, playful, yet cutting.

“Oh no, you’ve discovered my deepest, darkest secret,” Hound said with mock horror, waving his hands weakly in sarcastic defeat.

“And that’s exactly why you killed Puck, isn’t it?” she continued, bursting into laughter. “You needed the money to fix your weakness. Too bad it all went to hell. How does it feel knowing you killed your best friend for nothing?”

Hound’s face hardened, but he remained silent.

“For someone who can twist fate, you sure made a mess of it,” she added, her tone like a blade slicing through the air.

“Did you come here just to mock me?” he snapped, annoyance edging into his voice.

“On the contrary, darling. I came to help you. So help me help you. The base has something you need—a dark attribute symbiote.”

Hound’s breath caught, his body tensing involuntarily. She had his attention now.

“I grab what I need for this mission. Whatever you grab? Well...I happened to look the other way,” she said with a wink, standing up and reaching out her hand. “If anyone can figure out how to get in and out unscathed, it’s you, Mr. Manipulate-Destiny.”

“I’ll help you, but I’m not getting inked. My soul will not be branded. I work with you, not for you. I don’t like restrictions,” Hound stated firmly.

“That’s not how this works, babe. You’re too dangerous without a leash. If you survive the mutation, all it takes is one flick of the wrist to turn me into a tragic accident, right? All in, or all out. And we both know there’s only one real choice here.”

Hound hesitated but extended his hand. They shook. Argent might be many things, but a bluff was not one of them.

“On the bright side, you can pick the color and design!” she teased with a grin.

“Trust me, Lucas, I’ll make it look like an accident. Just tell me where he is,” Daryl said, his desperation barely contained as his coffee shook in his hands.

“You’re thinking with your heart, not your head,” Lucas replied coolly, swirling his glass of wine.

“What am I supposed to do? He kidnapped someone I care about!” Daryl pleaded. “The things Emily told me—they’re unimaginable. Just give me a location. Please. If not as a trader, then as a friend.”

Lucas sighed, leaning back in his chair. “He’ll be at River’s military headquarters with Argent. But here’s the deal: you don’t interfere with her business. Wait until they’re out, then he’s all yours.”

Daryl clenched his jaw but nodded. Lucas finished his drink, stood, and left without another word.

“Use invisible ink,” Hound instructed the tattoo artist. “Two long tears. Both eyes.”

The tattooist looked up from his tools, his expression grim. “You realize what you’re asking for? This isn’t just any tattoo. It marks you as part of a violent group. Step into River, and you’ll be arrested on sight. Worse, your soul will be bound to hers. If she dies, especially by your hand, your soul shatters into fragments. You’ll be left a husk—a mindless, broken shell. Are you sure about this?”

In the corner, Argent leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, her silver braids reflecting the dim light as she formed a heart with her hands.

“Let’s get it over with,” Hound said, his voice cold and resolute.

Daryl waited by the gates, the weight of his plan pressing down on him. He was startled by a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, Dad!” Mavis greeted, her face flushing as she saw him. She glanced nervously at the boy standing beside her. “What are you doing here?”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Dawson,” the boy said politely, extending a hand.

Daryl shook it absentmindedly, his focus on his daughter. “I just wanted to see you, sweetheart. Tell Emily I handled it. After tonight, she won’t have to worry anymore.”

“Dad—” Mavis began.

“She’ll understand,” Daryl interrupted, kissing her forehead. “Your mother’s making your favorite tonight. I love you.”

Mavis smiled, her dimples showing. “Love you too.”

As he walked away, his face hardened, and his resolve deepened. Tonight, everything would change.