Chapter 1 – Loyalty
Magnus POV.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with Beverly, even though I had a plan when I trapped her and brought her to this dead city.
But since then, she has proved to be a nightmare. And now, I was not so sure if making her a part of my big plan was the right call.
And that bothered me more than I cared to admit.
I should have listened to my youngest daughter, Evelyn, and killed Beverly. That would have been the cleanest solution. The logical one.
After all, she testified against me and sent me to life imprisonment. She killed a dozen of my rogue army when Blaze Gordon died, and decimated them.
Had it not been for Evelyn, I would have never been able to make it out alive from that Quad dungeon.
And yet, I had a soft corner for Beverly that defied all logic. Something that had always bothered my wife and Evelyn, not to mention, me.
Had it been anyone else, in her shoes, I wouldn’t have blinked. Killing for me is as easy as breathing. Beverly was a liability, and liabilities get buried. But something about her made me hesitate and change my plans.
It wasn’t parental feelings, love and affection. I had no room and no time for worthless emotions. Emotions and feelings are for the meek and fools. I was a man of purpose, a Knightley, a Penumbra, destined for greater glory.
It wasn’t mercy, either. I was not born with the feeling called mercy. I never showed it on my face, but my actions till date have been ample proof of my ruthless streak, and the lack of mercy I have in my heart.
No, it was something else. A dream. Yes, that would be the correct way to describe what I felt for Beverly.
She was a means to realise my dream. Even though she had always been the outcast in my family.
Apples to apples, Evelyn was smarter and far more lethal than Beverly could ever hope to be. But Beverly was more capable, more courageous, and more of a fighter than Evelyn, myself, and the rest of The Quad combined.
And that was the reason I hatched this elaborate plan to ambush the Jenkins family with a ragtag bunch of rogues, making everyone believe that I would target the prayer assembly next, and lured Beverly into the house basement to discover the ancient hidden tunnel.
Because, without her, I could still vanquish The Quad and rule for a lifetime.
But, with Beverly at my side, I could control everything and rule for an eternity.
If Evelyn was the sharp edge of the sharpest knife that goes into your back, Beverly was a loose cannon who could simply demolish everything by sheer willpower and guts.
The dozen rogues she slayed barehanded, the carnage she unleashed with a kitchen knife and a sledgehammer thereafter, and the lifeless body of Reggie lying with his throat ripped open was ample evidence of that precious commodity named guts.
That kind of raw power was a rarity.
Unfortunately, raw willpower also leads to defiance and rebellion. And that is what I would have to deal with now.
At this moment, she’s locked up in a room, silent, bruised, but not beaten. She’s radiating that mix of shock and defiance like she was not sure whether to fight back or submit.
I wasn’t sure if she was going to be a problem or not, but I did know one thing.
Letting her go wasn’t an option.
She’s too proud, too capable. Her combat skills were second to none. Her capacity to bear pain was astronomically high. And her extreme guts made her both a liability and an asset.
It would be foolish to think that she could be broken and forgotten. She was not like the rest of us. She was observant. She held things back. She remembered details.
Coupled with her reckless courage, that made her volatile and dangerous.
What would happen if she stayed in The Quad instead of here in Blackburn with me? They would sharpen her skills and smooth off the rough edges, and turn her into an extraordinary weapon.
How would that benefit me?
Once you bring someone into Blackburn, they either stay or die. There’s no halfway. No walking out. No returning to normal. I should have known that.
Luring her into a trap and bringing her here was not a solution. It was an invitation to disaster. And now, she would either have to stay or die.
She would either become a liability for me, or an asset. If she chose to join me, she would live. If she opted for defiance and resistance, she had to be buried like a liability.
Those were the only two choices before me, whether I liked them or not.
This gigantic structure — the black tungsten monolithic building in Blackburn where my entire family is housed now — wasn’t a home. It was a fortress of locked doors in a dead city, impossible to access from the outside world.
Nothing could exist here unless I allowed it.
I stopped just outside the locked door of the room Beverly was detained in. And I realised, suddenly and too late in the day, that I hadn’t planned this far. I was focused on removing her from The Quad and bringing her here, thereby mitigating the risk.
But now that she’s here, in my space, in my world, in Blackburn, I had to decide where she would fit.
Or if she would fit at all.
“Gladius,” I called the enormous moving mountain of flesh who would succeed Reggie as the leader of the rogue pack, “You are familiar with Beverly. You will keep an eye on her going forward. Let me open the door and make it official.”
I opened the heavy tungsten door and stepped in with Gladius in tow.
Beverly was sitting on a stool by the window. She jumped up, her eyes darting between us.
“Gladius, this is Beverly, my eldest daughter. You two have already met,” I said clearly. “She is not a guest. She is not a prisoner. She is a responsibility. I want you to watch her at all times. The only time she’s not to be under surveillance is when she’s inside this room, or if she is with me. Understood?”
Gladius nodded once, his large head moving up and down like an enormous rock floating in the ocean.
“She steps out of line, I want to know. If she raises her voice, I want it reported before she finishes breathing.”
Gladius nodded again, no questions asked. That’s why I kept him close.
Loyalty. Blind obedience.
The cornerstone of my world. The founding principle of my army.
I could have thrown Beverly into one of the countless dungeons scattered all over this hellscape, far enough to keep her out of my sight and mind. But then, I won’t get to know what she was up to.
I won’t get to feel the tension she carried around like armour, the kind that warned me she was still calculating, still defiant, still thinking of ways to fight back.
No. Distance won’t help. If I were to keep her under control, I needed her close enough. I wanted to see the moment she cracked.
And Blackburn’s black rocks, white snow, and stale air would compel anyone to crack. A braveheart like Beverly included.
In Blackburn, survival depended on obedience.
But Beverly was not normal. She was not made of flesh and bone. She was a wild, feral thing that plunged headfirst into danger, and never gave up, no matter the cost.
At this point, she stood quietly in a corner of the room. Too quiet and obedient, which was so unlike her. People like her don’t fold easily, they hold back. They wait for gaps, and count the seconds until the door creaks open to offer them the tiniest glimmer of hope and the faintest of opportunities to strike back.
“You can leave now,” I told Gladius. “Check up on her later.”
Gladius nodded and left. He knew when I wanted space. I didn’t bother explaining myself. I never have to.
With Gladius gone, I could now focus my attention on Beverly. I had to share my thoughts with her if I wanted her participation in my plan.
She looked small in the room, but not fragile. There’s a difference. Her spine was too straight. Her eyes were too steady.
She was neither crying nor fuming. She was thinking.
That’s worse.
There was no fear in her expression. Just stillness, guarded and unreadable.
“You settling in, Beverly?” I asked, my tone even and measured.
“You didn’t bring me here to settle, Dad.”
There it is.
Not brave, not defiant. Not manipulating.
Just plain and simple honesty. Gutsy honesty.
And I hated the fact that I respected it.
“No. You are here because you killed my Beta, and I had to shield you from the others baying for your blood. But don’t mistake that for mercy.”
I didn’t say anything else. I let the silence stretch, watching her grow uncomfortable beneath it. I wanted to see how long she could keep her gaze steady and hold back her fears.
“I’m not going to run again,” she remarked eventually, voice soft but steady. “So, you could remove these cuffs and shackles and let me breathe freely.”
“That can happen only if you follow the rules,” I told her. “You behave, keep your head down, stay quiet, and you will live longer. You disobey, test my patience, try to revolt or escape, and I will have to remind you how merciless I could be.”
That earned me a flicker of fire in her gaze, but she quickly bit it back. She didn’t argue. She knew where we were. She knew what I was.
And she knew I didn’t utter that warning for effect.
Instead, she swallowed hard and asked, “What do you want from me, Dad?”
That question hung in the air longer than it should have.
I didn’t answer right away. Because I wasn’t sure myself. Beverly was dangerous — with or without a weapon — dangerous with possibility.
She had been through a lot and lived through worse. That kind of a person never stays quiet. She adapts, she learns.
She waits.
And sometimes, she turns on you when your back’s turned. And deals a lethal blow.
What did I want from her? Control. Obedience. And the thing that mattered to me the most.
The reason I had brought her here.
“Loyalty,” I let the pause hang before I finally spoke again.
Her brow furrowed slightly, confused and skeptical.
“Pledge it,” I murmured, my voice low enough that it’s more warning than request. “Pledge your loyalty to me, and you live well. You even get to become the commander of my army. Deny it … and you will learn how I deal with defiance.”
I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to.
I left her behind in the room, still standing, still silent, but no longer still.
Now that she knew the game, I’ll be watching to see how she played it.
