FIVE

I breathe in deeply, trying to stop my hands from quivering. 

I’m nervous because this meeting may end up in me losing my job, and I can imagine why that may be. I’ve been speaking to Cian, and although he is a patient here as much as any other, I’ve been told by all the other staff to avoid him, which is a demand that has been entrenched into their minds since they were hired. 

The elevator glides to a stop, doors pulling open to reveal an office reception. I’ve made it to the top floor as requested, at a far higher level to where my interview was held. As I walk in and sit down, waiting to be called into the office, I think through what I’m going to say to defend myself, knowing I’m about to lose my job. 

Suddenly the door opens, a figure stepping out to lean against the doorframe. 

I freeze. "Oh...Stace."

I’m surprised to see the man who interviewed me in the first place coming out of the office that is labelled on a small silver plaque, overseer. I got the impression he was just another manager, although an intimidating one at that. I haven't seen him since I got the job, although technically he’s my boss. 

"You look disappointed to see me,” he notes, motioning for me to step into the office. I do so stiffly, watching him carefully as I pass by his large figure, breathing in his lavender and sandalwood scent. 

"Renna, one of the workers told me that you were an overseer who only came around a couple of times a year,” I note, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. I’m confused, since I saw this man only a few months ago, and he didn’t claim to be the overseer of this entire establishment. In fact, with an office like this, I’m convinced he owns it. 

He brushes past me, going to stand in a small sitting area to the left of his main office space, sitting down in one of the grey lounge chairs. He is dressed formally, although it doesn’t suit him, like he is putting on some sort of an act.

"I am the overseer, and I don't visit often," he notes. "But I was in town and decided to conduct your interview."

I narrow my eyes. "Okay...You wanted to see me?"

"Sit down Amolet," he offers, motioning to the chair opposite him. I oblige his command, at this point desiring to do whatever I can to keep my job here. "I wanted to speak to you about a patient here named Cian."

I fight the urge to wince, tucking my hands under my thighs. Like I predicted, the overseer is here to fire for my attempt to communicate with him. Stace doesn’t appear angry, though, watching me carefully with those tumultuous dark eyes of him, bearing secrets I will never uncover. Whoever he is, overseer or not, he’s a fascinating enigma. 

"Ah yes, I've finally managed to get him to speak,” I say, a hint of pride on my voice knowing I achieved that when no other staff member could.

"I understand that may be exciting, however you should know how dangerous he is,” he murmurs, leaning forward so his elbows rest on his thighs, hands clasped together. I lean back in my seat, noting each curl atop his head, the way the tips brush against his dark eyebrows. 

"Everyone in here is dangerous,” I remind him uneasily. 

"Yes, but others are no pure-blood Sins. Do you understand what I'm saying?" he questions, tilting his head. 

My eyes linger down to the tattoos on his neck. I’m almost convinced it’s not just a trick of the light that makes them look like they are moving ever-so slowly, like they have a life of their own. They stop at his jawline, curling and twisting around in an incoherent pattern, tinted with the most subtle shade of crimson. It officially creeps me out. 

"No, I don't."

“Cian is Greed, which means he will manipulate to get what he desires,” he notes coolly. I wonder how often he gets his way with just the twist of his words - he looks like someone everyone is used to obeying.  “I do not have to care about your fate with him, but I do not want him being disturbed.”

“I’m not doing anything other than trying to keep him company. When I started working here I took a vow to care for all the patients at the facility,” I say firmly. 

I’m not sure where this confidence is coming from; perhaps it’s a desire to keep my job. Or maybe it’s because Stace doesn’t look angry, or frustrated - in fact, he appears rather level-headed. Not to mention I truly believe I am right about Cian...There is something more to him that no one is giving him credit for.

“You feel connected to him, don’t you?” Stace breathes, pulling me from my trance. 

I suddenly can’t swallow past the lump in my throat, having this uncanny feeling that he can read my mind. “I don’t know what you mean by that…”

“He’s a Sin, that’s what they do,” he explains with a shrug, taking a sip out of the cup of water I hadn’t noticed was in front of him. I’m too entranced by his intense gaze, the way he appears to be reading me with no more than a few glances. It’s eerie. “They draw you in, get you to trust them before they destroy you.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

"I wouldn't suggest going to his cell, he cannot be trusted," Stace says as a final warning, leaning back into the chair. "Especially not around a mortal."

I grit my teeth, looking over his shoulder and through the large windows that shape the office. Outside I can see the capital city of the Harmony Pack and all its towering buildings. I forget how much I love it here, in this beautiful pack. It’s not far from here where the Alpha lives. 

"The way you say that suggests you're not mortal,” I mutter suspiciously. It doesn’t take much of looking at him to come to that conclusion. There is nothing natural about his appearance...He has that otherworldly beauty that only pure-blood immortals possess - they live and govern over the immortal realm, and although I never learnt about Stace in my history books, I have a feeling he is connected to Cian in amount of power. 

"Well I'm not immortal, so take that as you will," he mutters dismissively, waving his hand about as if it’s a crazed notion, although I’m starting to suspect it with each word coming from his mouth.  "Now, I hope you heed my advice."

I release a long breath. "Will I lose my job if I don't?"

"You may lose more than that, Amolet. I'm trying to help you,” he says, tone darkening, becoming more serious suddenly. I shudder, not having to think too deeply into what he has said to know what that means. 

My life. He is insinuating that I could lose my life. 

"Okay, I will stay out of his cell," I finally relent. Maybe he is right, about Cian being dangerous, but that doesn’t stop my fascination with him, who he is and why he’s here. Nor does it stop me from wanting to help him, and I hate myself for that. "Why is he in one anyway, and not a treatment facility?"

Stace thinks for a moment. "Because he’s not unwell."

"I don't think I understand."

"Cian invited himself in here, as he is afraid of what his power can do in the outside world, so in order to protect it, he stays in here,” he admits. 

I’m taken aback by how honest he is being, since everyone else who works here doesn’t like to speak much on the reality of why Cian ended up here. Stace shares with me, knowing the knowledge won’t change anything, won’t mean I can go to his cell anymore and try to get him to speak. 

"That makes no sense...If he just went back to the immortal realm this wouldn't be an issue,” I comment. A pure-blood like Cian has no obligation to be here, in the mortal realm anyway, so I’m not sure what lured him to admit himself here in the first place. Stace definitely knows more about this than he is letting on, and it’s obvious they have a history. 

"There are too many temptations out there,” is all Stace says. 

His eyes betray him, glazing over slightly. So there is more to it, but nothing I’m going to get out of my boss. Maybe just one more visit to Cian will supply me with the answers that I need...

"I think I'm going to go back to work now,” I decide, getting to my feet. 

Stace joins me, grabbing a hold of my wrist in a way that makes me startle. "Do you trust me?"

"You're my boss,” I reply uneasily, looking down at the way his fingers wrap around my wrist, touching my skin. He’s not hurting me, and I’m not frightened, just unsure of why he is so adamant about making his point. What is he hiding? 

"Speak as though I'm not,” he prompts. 

"I think you know more than you're telling me, but being that I only work here, and are likely unimportant to you, you won't ever be honest with me,” I breathe. 

Stace’s lips quirk up slightly. "Interesting observation."

"And I think you're not a mortal,” I add, for good measure. 

"Another interesting observation," he comments, letting go of my wrist. "Have a good day at work, Amolet."

Part of me wants to say more, to get more answers out of him, as there is a good chance I may never see him again, but out of pride, I summon calm over my body and walk out of his office, letting the door breeze closed behind me. 

The moment I am out of the elevator, I quickly dart down the hallways, avoiding the staff room where I know Renna will be waiting, wanting me to explain everything that happened. First, I want to visit Cian’s cell and at least say goodbye, let him know why I will no longer be returning to speak to him again. 

My footsteps echo along the concrete walls as I make my way down to the end cell, pausing right in front of it.

Blinking, I wait for my eyes to adjust, waiting to see the outline of Cian’s figure. Yet, as I wait a few moments longer, a horrifying realisation consumes me. 

He’s not in his cell. He’s gone.