Chapter: The Blood Between Them
The Lie That Hurts the Most.
The next morning rolled in quietly. The village air was still, and the silence in Duke's apartment felt heavy—like the calm before a storm. Dee hadn't spoken to him since last night's blood test, and she didn't plan to either.
Until Duke knocked on her door.
"We need to go," he said simply.
She was still in bed, her face buried in the pillow. "Where?"
"The lab."
She lifted her head, annoyed. "You're not seriously dragging me to a lab like I'm a science experiment again."
He leaned on the doorframe. "You're already the experiment. Now we need answers."
She glared, but got up.
---
They drove in silence. Just the hum of the engine and the occasional chirp of birds flying above the forest-lined road. Dee kept staring out the window like the trees held all the answers she needed.
The lab was hidden—off a dirt path that led to what looked like a normal countryside shed, camouflaged by nature. But when Duke punched in a code, the door slid open with a hydraulic hiss, revealing a sleek underground corridor bathed in bluish lights.
Dee frowned. "Creepy. Very James Bond."
Duke smirked. "Welcome to the fun part."
They descended the narrow stairs, entering a futuristic lab buzzing with quiet activity. Glass panels, chrome desks, machines blinking with codes she didn't understand. At the center, a microscope station and an analyzing pod.
A man in a white coat with dark circles under his eyes looked up. "You brought it?"
Duke handed him the vial of blood. "Here."
The man nodded, took it to the microscope, and carefully added a drop onto a glass slide. He adjusted the lens, stared… and then froze.
"What the…" he whispered.
He didn't move for a few seconds. Then he jerked his head up. "Duke. Come here."
Duke raised an eyebrow and walked over. "What is it?"
"Just… look."
Duke leaned in. His face changed.
"What am I even looking at?" he muttered.
The scientist tapped the screen. "Her red blood cells… some of them are fused unnaturally. A few are shaped like crystals. Others are glowing under the microscope. That shouldn't happen."
"What do you mean glowing?" Dee asked sharply, stepping closer.
He turned to her. "Your cells aren't normal. They've mutated… or were always like this. You don't just have red blood cells. You have something else in there. Something I've never seen before."
Dee narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying I'm... what? Alien?"
"I'm saying," the scientist replied slowly, "that your blood doesn't match anything in our databases. And whatever it is… it's powerful."
Duke looked stunned. "That's why nothing about you made sense."
"I told you I don't know anything," Dee said, backing up.
The scientist stepped back. "I need time. More tests. This might take days."
---
Back in the car, the sun dipped behind the hills as they drove in tense silence.
Duke finally broke it. "Were you born with this? Have you ever felt different? Sick? Stronger? Anything?"
Dee folded her arms. "Don't talk to me like you care."
"I'm not—"
"I don't know anything," she snapped. "I don't know what's in my blood, or why my life keeps falling apart, or why everyone thinks I'm hiding something. But you? You used me. Hurt my friend. Lied to me. So don't ask me personal questions like we're friends."
Duke looked away. "Fair enough."
---
They returned to the apartment by night. Dee barely acknowledged him as she stormed into her room and slammed the door. She collapsed into bed, exhaustion crashing over her like waves. The lab. Her blood. King. The betrayal. Everything blended into one heavy storm inside her head.
Sleep, at least, came easily.
---
The Next Morning
Duke was already in the kitchen, flipping eggs and burning toast like a champion of culinary chaos. He walked to Dee's door and knocked once before cracking it open.
"Hey," he called gently. "Wake up. Food's ready."
She pulled the pillow over her head. "I'm not eating anything made by you. What if you drugged it?"
Duke groaned. "Oh come on, I didn't even put salt in it, let alone poison. You can watch me eat mine if it makes you feel better."
"I said no."
"Okay, starve then," he muttered and walked away.
But hunger was crueler than her pride. A few minutes later, she stormed out, grabbed a slice of toast, and grumbled, "If I die, I'm haunting you."
"Welcome to the breakfast table," Duke replied, sipping his coffee. "I'd be honored."
She didn't answer. She just ate. Quietly. Grudgingly.
---
After breakfast, Duke grabbed his coat. "I'm heading out. Don't open the door for anyone."
"Do I look like an idiot?" she snapped.
He shrugged. "Sometimes."
She gave him a look that could shatter glass. Then, without another word, turned and walked back to her room, slamming the door hard behind her.
Duke paused, stared at the door for a moment, and shook his head.
"She's going to kill me before this blood test does," he muttered, heading out.
:
The air in Duke's apartment felt strange after he left—too quiet, too heavy.
Dee was pacing back and forth in her room, arms crossed tightly. Her stomach churned, but she hadn't eaten since morning. She tried to shake it off, blaming the injections, the stress, everything.
Then suddenly… the room spun.
Her vision blurred. The walls twisted. She stumbled forward, clutching the edge of the table, but it slipped from her grasp. Her knees gave out.
Why… why can't I breathe?
Her heart thundered in her ears, and her thoughts slowed as darkness crept in like a tide.
Then, everything went black.
---
Hours Later — Nightfall
Duke returned, tired and distracted, pushing open the apartment door. "Dee, I got some—"
He stopped.
His eyes widened as he saw her crumpled on the floor, still, pale, unconscious.
"Dee?!" he shouted, rushing to her. He kneeled, shook her shoulders. "Come on—wake up, hey—"
She didn't move.
He picked her up in his arms and rushed to the car, speeding toward the underground lab like a madman. Every red light felt like a death sentence.
---
At the Lab
The white-coated scientist looked up, startled, as Duke barged in.
"What happened?"
"She was fine this morning," Duke said breathlessly. "I came back and found her passed out on the floor."
The man immediately guided Duke to the med bay. "Put her down."
He ran tests, checked her vitals, hooked her to machines. "She's stable. Barely. I need more blood samples."
Time passed like molasses.
An hour… two…
Finally, Dee's eyes fluttered open under the dim light of the lab.
Duke leaned forward. "You're awake."
Dee stared at him, her voice hoarse. "You're only glad I didn't die because you still need me for your lab circus, don't you?"
His face froze. "Dee, it's not—"
"Don't," she whispered. "Don't act like you care. If I was useless, I'd already be in a ditch, right?"
"Dee—"
"I hate you," she said with tears in her voice. "I hate that I have to trust someone like you to survive."
Duke backed away, guilt painting his expression.
---
Two Days Later
Dee stayed at the lab.
She barely spoke. Her body ached from the countless injections the scientist kept administering.
"You're weak," he explained. "Your blood's trying to fight something it doesn't recognize. We need to support it. These are stabilizers, nothing harmful."
She winced as the needle pierced her skin again. Duke watched silently from the corner, his arms crossed but his eyes heavy with something unreadable.
On the second night, she lay quietly under the medical blanket, wires taped to her skin, IV slowly dripping beside her. Her body didn't feel like her own anymore.
---
Later That Night – The Truth
The scientist walked into the med bay with a file in his hand, his expression unreadable.
"Her reports are back," he said, handing them to Duke.
Duke skimmed the pages—and froze.
"What the hell is this…" he muttered.
"What is it?" Dee asked quietly.
The scientist sighed. "You have a brain tumor."
Dee blinked. "What?"
Duke's lips parted. "And… there are foreign microorganisms in your blood. Not viruses. Not bacteria. Something else. I don't even know what to call them."
Dee stared at the ceiling.
Her mind was empty. Or maybe too full.
She came back with Duke .
---
Back at Duke's Apartment – That Night
Dee sat on the bed, her back against the headboard, reports still in her hand. Her vision was blurry—not from the dim light… but from the weight in her chest.
Her mind wandered to him.
Rayyan.
She remembered every second—the way he bandaged her foot when she couldn't walk, the way he made her laugh when she tried not to, how he always called her "trouble" with a grin.
His hand holding hers in the hospital.
His eyes—so full of love.
Her heart cracked open like a broken dam.
She turned on her phone.
And froze.
301 missed calls. 538 texts.
Each one more desperate than the last.
> Rayyan [2:04AM]: Dee please.
Rayyan [2:08AM]: You're not at home. Where did you go?
Rayyan [2:20AM]: Dee I'm sorry. Please. I'll do anything.
Rayyan [3:01AM]: I'll die if I don't see you.
Rayyan [3:12AM]: Dee… please come back.
Rayyan [3:25AM]: I can't breathe without you.
Rayyan [4:02AM]: Dee. Please. I'm begging you.
Tears fell from her eyes like rain from a broken sky.
She wanted to reply.
She wanted to say: It's not your fault. It's mine.
But she couldn't.
And then, her phone rang again.
Rayyan.
She hesitated. Then… answered.
"Dee?! Dee is that you?!"
His voice was frantic, broken. "Where are you? Please, just tell me you're okay—please—I'm sorry—don't leave me like this—"
Dee's throat tightened. Her voice cracked. "Rayyan… it's okay."
He fell silent for a second. "W-What?"
"We're not meant to be," she whispered. "Maybe… we never were."
"Don't say that—please, I—"
"I'm going back to my country," she said, eyes shut, tears streaming. "I don't need anyone now. Not even you."
Rayyan gasped. "Dee, please, don't do this—I love you—"
"I don't want to see you again."
And with that, she ended the call.
Her hands trembled.
The phone slipped from her fingers.
Crash—
The phone shattered against the wall.
Just like her.
And in that moment… she let herself break completely.
:
Dee sat alone on the floor of her room, knees pulled tightly to her chest. The broken pieces of her phone lay scattered near the wall—silent witnesses to everything she couldn't say.
Her lips quivered, eyes red, cheeks wet with tears that wouldn't stop.
She didn't cry like this often. Not even when she was bleeding. Not even when Duke had hurt her or when Ayat was taken.
But this—this lie she had told Rayyan?
It tore her apart.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to the empty room, her voice barely a breath. "I didn't want to hurt you... I just—"
She covered her face with both hands, sobbing into the silence. The pain in her chest was like a scream trying to claw its way out. She hated this. She hated him for making her do it. And she hated herself even more for going along with it.
"I didn't want to lie," she choked out. "Rayyan… you deserved the truth. You deserved everything. Not this."
Her body trembled as the sobs deepened, raw and silent.
She leaned her head against the cold wall. Her heartbeat was frantic. Her head hurt. But not as much as her heart.
If he knew… he would come for me.
If he came, Duke would destroy him.
And that thought terrified her more than the tumor growing inside her.
She wiped her tears with shaking hands. "I'd rather have you hate me than bury me," she whispered.
The path she had chosen—following Duke, searching for King, letting them test her blood, keeping secrets about her condition—was far darker than anything Rayyan could understand.
And if he knew she was sick, if he knew she was hurting like this…
He would never leave her side.
But this time, she had to walk alone.
Because the truth wasn't safe.
And love wasn't enough to survive it.
She curled tighter into herself, and for the first time in years, she wished she could just disappear. Not from the world—but from this pain.
From him.
From herself.