Chapter 38 Val Cracks
Dante POV
Micah’s text lit up my screen just as I stepped into the empty athletics office. The hallway light flickered behind me, leaving my silhouette stretched long against the door. Where are you? I let the message reverberate in my mind, low and satisfying, the kind of pull I’d been engineering for weeks. He reached for me unprompted and that alone made my chest warm with triumph. I typed nothing back. Not yet. Let him stew, tremble, want.
Before I could read the message again, someone slammed the office door shut. Hard. The frame rattled. Val stood there hands in his hair, shoulders shaking with a fury that seemed to flicker under his skin. His eyes were bright, glassy, desperate, like someone trying not to drown in his own rage.
“Val stood there hands in his hair, shoulders shaking with a fury that seemed to flicker under his skin. His eyes were bright, glassy, desperate, like someone trying not to drown in his own rage. “Dante,” he hissed, “I’m losing him.” I leaned against the desk, folding my arms like I’d been waiting for exactly this. “Losing who?” I asked, tone light, almost bored.
Val let out a choked laugh, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His sneakers squeaked against the tile with each frantic step. “Don’t act stupid. Andreas. He’s pulling away. He won’t tell me where he’s been. He won’t answer my calls. And every time I try to talk to him he just..” Val’s voice cracked. “He just looks through me.”
There it is. The break I’d been watching creep up on him for weeks. I stepped forward slowly, like approaching a skittish dog, though Val wasn’t delicate, he was explosive. “You didn’t tell me it was this bad,” I murmured, letting my voice soften just enough to reel him closer.
Val slammed his fist against the wall. “I thought I could fix it. I thought he’d come back to me.” He swallowed hard, breath trembling. “But I’m losing control, Dante. And when I lose control… I break things.”
That part was true. I knew it better than anyone. “Then stop pretending you can hold the world together with your bare hands,” I said, stepping close enough that Val’s breath hit my collarbone. “You can’t force Andreas to orbit you if someone else is pulling harder.”
Val blinked fast, chest heaving. “Someone else?” he whispered. “You think he’s seeing someone?” I let silence hang tense, heavy, crafted. Then I tilted my head, pretending to consider the possibility that I’d already measured days ago. “People don’t drift without a reason, Val. Maybe he’s bored. Maybe he’s found a new… distraction.”
Val stiffened like I’d plunged a knife between his ribs. Perfect. His voice cracked open. “Don’t say that. Don’t—don’t make this sound like he’s replacing me.” “He might be,” I said, calm, unwavering. “And if he is, you need to stop reacting like a jealous teenager and start thinking like someone who wants to win.”
Val’s breath hitched. He stared at me, eyes wet but burning. “I don’t know how to win him back.” There it was the admission he swore he’d never make out loud. Val, the loudest mouth on the team. Val, all swagger and violence. Val, undone.
I stepped closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. He froze, the tension in him vibrating like a pulled bowstring. “Then let me help you,” I murmured. “Because what you need isn’t a heart to heart. It’s leverage.”
Val shook his head, confused. “Leverage? Over Andreas?” “Over whoever stole him,” I corrected. “Or over Andreas himself. If he won’t look at you willingly… make him remember why he shouldn’t look anywhere else.”
Val swallowed hard. “That sounds...” “Manipulative?” I offered. “Cruel?” Val said nothing. He didn’t have to. The silence told me everything he was willing.
I watched the realization settle into him like a poison he’d chosen to drink. “That’s not me,” he whispered, voice cracking again. “I don’t do mind games.” I leaned in, breath brushing his ear, tone low enough that only he could hear. “But you could. If it meant keeping him. Aren’t you tired of feeling powerless?”
Val’s fingers curled into fists. “I hate it,” he spat. “I hate feeling like he’s slipping away.” “Then take him back,” I said. “People like Andreas they follow the strongest pull. Become it.”
Val looked at me, trembling, torn between fear and desire different from Micah’s trembling, but familiar all the same. “What if I mess it up?” he whispered. “What if I push him even further away?” “You won’t,” I said. “Not if you listen to me. Not if you stop fighting like a storm and start fighting like a strategist.”
His throat bobbed. “And what do you want in return?” A smart question. Too late. I smiled slowly. “Just your loyalty.”
Val’s eyes flicked to my hand still on his shoulder. He didn’t move. “You’re helping Micah too,” he said quietly. “Everyone sees it. And you’re helping me. Why do you choose people like us?” “Because people like you and Micah are the most interesting,” I replied. “You’re the ones with the most to lose.”
Val shivered, breath catching. “You’re messed up, Dante.” “Maybe,” I said lightly. “Or maybe I just know how to build kings. And how to break them.”
Val exhaled shakily. “If Andreas really is slipping away… I need to know what to do next.” This was the moment, the one where panic met dependency, where fear yielded to obedience.
I stepped even closer, my hand sliding from his shoulder to the back of his neck, grounding him, claiming him in the way only pressure and certainty could. “You do exactly what I tell you,” I murmured. “And you’ll get him back. You’ll make him kneel.”
Val’s breaths grew uneven. “Dante…” His voice was a warning, a plea, a surrender. I dipped my head, lips close enough to brush the shell of his ear, whispering the words that sealed everything I needed from him. “Ready to kill a king?”
Val’s inhale was sharp, violent. And then quietly, trembling. “…yes.”
The door behind us creaked. A shadow crossed the light beneath it. Someone had been listening. And that only made my smile widen.