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“That’s not ignoring,” Moses said, confirming her suspicion.

She jerked her attention from Santoro and glanced to her other side as Bellamy stepped up to the next starting position.

“Who’s instructing you?” she asked, confused at the look of dread twisting his features.

“Oscar fuc—um, Oscar Sato,” he gritted out, forcing a smile.

There were specific rules for the live Saturday night shows, such as no swearing, nudity, or other offensive language, and no comments that might spoil the plot of the show, which was generally aired about a week after events happened in real time.

Isobel scoffed out a quiet laugh before she could stop herself. Whoever had organised this game had really outdone themselves.

Bellamy had helped to save Oscar’s sister’s life the year before, but the officials didn’t know that and had no reason to believe that the animosity between them would have dissipated magically over the summer break.

They could have pretended to find some common ground in the months since they started back up at Ironside, but they preferred to fuel the fake flames of their growing public rivalry instead.

This meant that Bellamy was almost definitely about to injure himself, and he knew it too.

“Blindfolds on!” Ed called out, his projected voice jolting the half-smile right off her face.

She picked up the thick black strap hanging over the gate and secured it properly as one of the production assistants flitted around them, securing their harnesses and checking their blindfolds.

That was another rule for the Ironside Row—no cheating.

It was the quickest way to get yourself banned from the Row, and even a one-week ban could be damaging.

“They just handed me a list of fan questions,” Moses said in her ear. “You ready?”

“Hit me with it,” Isobel said as Jack shouted for them to begin, and the sound of fabric swooshing clued her into the fact that the curtains had been drawn.

“Who do you fight with the most out of the other members of Eleven?”

“You,” she answered immediately.

“You’re about ten feet up,” he told her. “The first part of the course is just a ledge to drop down onto. Sit on the edge and dangle your legs over.” He waited for her to obey before he continued. “Now drop down. The ledge is right beneath your feet.”

She hesitated, but the sound of Santoro’s feet hitting the platform with a slap spurred her to drop. On her other side, Bellamy bit back a rough curse. Oscar had probably misled him on the drop.

“Could you tell Oscar not to hurt him?” she grumbled.

“No can do,” Moses said. “We’re at different monitors. Okay, next question. What do we fight over?”

She nibbled on her lip, trying to formulate an answer. “Your lack of a filter.”

“Or your lack of self-control?” he shot back, a little too quickly, and she immediately realised what he was doing.

He was leaning into the discourse on that viral video, playing up the joke that they were always fighting. She wondered if he would flirt with her to show the other side too.

“Your stubbornness,” she shot back. “Final answer.”

“There are three platforms ahead of you, a three-foot gap between them. Reach out, there’s a rope hanging there that you can use to swing.”

She swallowed, feeling for the rope and clutching it tightly.

With Mikel or Kalen, she would have flown through the course with complete trust in their directions, but that was because they trained and tutored her.

Even Niko would have been easy to work with because she had spent a good deal of time during her second year letting him teach her self-defence—a routine she had picked up again.

The summer break had really done a number on her. It was only their second day back when she asked Niko for more lessons. It didn’t lessen her nightmares, but it was a start.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the others, but she hadn’t trained her body to blindly follow their direction, and despite the safety harness, it wasn’t natural to be at ease knowing she could plummet toward the ground at any second.

“Just lean out.” Moses’ tone softened. “You don’t have to jump. You can anchor one foot against the first platform and reach for the other.”

She did as he said, her hands starting to sweat, and felt her foot connect with the other platform.

She made quick work of the next three, ignoring the tremble in her arms. Bellamy was grunting and growling his way through the course behind her, sounding like he was completely ignoring direction and trying to feel through it on his own.

“Perfect,” Moses praised, and she had to wonder if he was just being himself or if he had deliberately switched up his tone. “Next question. Have you kissed any of the Alphas outside of any Ironside Row games or public challenges?”

She chewed on her lip, trying to come up with the right answer. “Kilian,” she said. “We were super drunk one night. We laughed for like an hour after.”

For a moment, Moses didn’t answer .

“I didn’t know that,” he said, tone still soft, but there was an edge to it.

“Moses?”

“Mm?”

“The direction?”

“Right.” He talked her through the next part of the course, a sternness creeping back into his voice. “Did you like the kiss with Kilian?”

“How could the fans have asked that question? They didn’t even know I kissed him.”

“Oh, so you kissed him, not the other way around?”

“He kissed me.”

“That question was for me.”

“Why do you need to know?” she grumbled. “What happens between drunk friends stays between drunk friends.”

“Fine. Was your relationship with Matteus Silva for publicity?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I’ll admit I wasn’t as focussed on it as I should have been—not as much as he deserved.”

“Who were you focussed on?”

“Moses,” she pleaded, “stop inserting your own questions and help me get through this damn course.”

“It’s a tightrope with two rope handrails, about hip height—yes, there you go. Now, balance and talk. Who were you focussed on?”

“Can’t you grill me later? ”

“Why, when I have you blindfolded and at my mercy right now? Who were you focussed on?”

“Dance. Eleven. Us. The group.”

“Good girl. Good answer.”

“I’m glad you approve,” she scoffed, ignoring the flipping of her stomach. Her palms were sweating for a different reason, even though it was an entirely fake conversation.

“Perfect,” he said when she reached the end of the tightrope, her feet and hands aching from trying extra hard to balance without her sight. “If you had to date one of the Alphas, who would you choose?”

“Wow, do the fans think you guys are lonely or something?”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why. Do you ever just answer a question?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Try.”

“I’d pick Elijah and Gabriel.”

“Together?” Moses spluttered. “Did you hit your head up there?”

“Hey,” she defended, “Those two are basically married already. It makes my role in the date inconsequential. I can’t possibly fail because they’ll entertain each other.”

“I don’t like your choice, but I can’t fault your logic.”

“You have a better idea?” she asked with a forced sigh .

“I might. You need to jump,” he said suddenly.

“Jump where?”

“There’s a three-foot gap in front of you, and then a platform. No guiding rope or anything.”

Fuck it . She jumped, landing in a shaky crouch, her trembling hands steadying herself on the platform.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, deep voice sounding pleased. “Do you still hope to find your mate one day?”

It was a thoughtfully worded question because it was accepted knowledge by now that she was an anchor and that her tether had passed away, and the accident they assumed had been her “death phase” must have been a funky side effect instead.

There was no way her tether would have survived all this time without her, and if she had been the tether, there was no way she would have survived all this time without them.

The question might have been thoughtfully worded, but it was still invasive as shit, and she had to be careful about her answer. If the fans ever found out the truth, the more lies she had told about it along the way, the worse the consequences would be.

“I never wanted a mate or a mate bond,” she answered honestly. “Eleven is the only family I’ll ever need. I’m happy.”

“Cute.” There was a slight smirk in his voice, and even though the entire scenario was fake, she still felt a little flip in her chest, imagining that Moses was happy that she wasn’t pining over some sort of fictional mate.

She could imagine the thinly veiled look of satisfaction in his usually stony features, hinting that he was more possessive of her than anyone realised.

For a moment, she was so confused by her reaction that she forgot to press him for more directions.

They both just stood there in silence for a moment before he kicked himself into gear, talking her through the next part.

She followed his instructions quickly now, her competitiveness kicking into gear.

“If you could pick anyone at Ironside to dance with, who would it be and why?”

“Cian. I just … like the way he moves.” Her face was heating beneath the blindfold.

“Interesting.” Moses cleared his throat. “Maybe don’t explain that. We’re almost done. Time to focus. You ready?”

He sounded far too calm, especially with all the shouting and grunting and bitten-back swearwords bouncing all around her.

“Ready.”

They finished the course with as few words as possible and as soon as her feet hit the mat, she was snatched up into strong arms.

“We won.” Moses ripped her blindfold off, his small grin inches from her face, his arms wrapping her thighs as he carried her over to the others, who all piled in on them, cheering and slapping them on their backs .

“That was amazing,” Kilian praised them after Moses set her back on her feet. “You barely hesitated at all.”

“No idea what Bellamy was complaining about,” Oscar added glibly. “You made it look easy.”