Chapter 74: Fractured Loyalties

The air inside the tent was stifling, heavy with unspoken accusations and growing mistrust. Lucian stood at the center, his sharp gaze shifting between Selene and Lyra. The flickering lantern light cast deep shadows on his face, emphasizing the storm brewing within him.

"Selene," Lucian began, his voice low and controlled, "I need the truth. Right now."

Selene's golden eyes met his, unwavering. "You know me, Lucian. You know where my loyalty lies. Are you really going to let the words of a captured assassin make you doubt me?"

"He knew too much," Lyra interjected, stepping closer. "The Council's been ahead of us at every turn. If there's a leak, we need to find it. And if it's you, Selene…"

Selene bristled, her hand tightening on the hilt of her dagger. "Careful, Lyra. I've fought for this cause as fiercely as you have. Don't think for a second that I'd betray everything we've built."

"Enough!" Lucian's voice cut through the tension like a blade. His gaze was colder than the night outside. "This isn't the time for infighting. But make no mistake—if I find out anyone here is working against me, there will be no mercy."

Selene's lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded. Lyra, still glaring, backed off as well.

Lucian turned to the map sprawled across the table. His fingers traced the terrain, plotting their next move. "We need to stay ahead of the Council. This assassin was a warning, but it won't be their last attempt. Magnus is fortifying the camp, but we can't stay here much longer."

"And where do we go?" Lyra asked, her voice softer now, but still edged with tension.

Lucian's eyes flickered toward her. "There's a hidden stronghold in the northern cliffs. A place the Council doesn't know about—at least, not yet. We'll regroup there and plan our next strike."

Selene stepped forward, her tone even. "If that's the plan, we need to move quickly. The longer we stay here, the more vulnerable we are."

Lucian nodded, but his expression remained guarded. "Get the warriors ready. We leave before dawn."

As Selene left the tent, Lyra lingered. Her piercing blue eyes locked on Lucian, her expression conflicted. "Do you really think she's capable of betrayal?"

Lucian exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. "I don't know. But right now, I can't afford to trust anyone completely."

Lyra stepped closer, her hand brushing against his arm. "You can trust me."

For a moment, the tension between them shifted. Lucian's gaze softened, and the walls he so carefully built around himself seemed to crack. "Lyra…" he began, his voice trailing off.

But before he could continue, a loud commotion erupted outside the tent. Shouts and the clash of weapons filled the air.

Lucian and Lyra exchanged a quick glance before rushing outside.

The camp was in chaos. Shadows darted between the trees, and warriors clashed with dark figures clad in the Council's insignia. Another ambush.

Lucian drew his blade, its crimson edge gleaming in the firelight. "Defend the camp!" he roared, charging into the fray.

Lyra was right behind him, her movements fluid and deadly as she cut through the attackers. Magnus joined them, his massive axe swinging with brutal efficiency.

But even as they fought, Lucian's sharp eyes caught sight of something—or someone—lurking on the outskirts of the battle. A figure cloaked in black, their face obscured by a hood.

Breaking away from the fight, Lucian pursued the figure into the forest. The sounds of battle faded behind him as he closed the distance.

"Stop!" he commanded, his voice echoing through the trees.

The figure halted, turning slowly to face him. A woman's face emerged from the shadows, pale and hauntingly familiar. Her crimson lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Lucian," she said, her voice smooth and taunting. "I've been waiting for this moment."

His grip on his sword tightened. "Who are you?"

She stepped closer, her movements deliberate and graceful. "Don't tell me you've forgotten me already. That would be disappointing, considering our… history."

Lucian's eyes narrowed, searching her face. And then it hit him—a memory buried deep, from a time before he became the leader of the Crimson Dominion.

"Amara," he breathed, his voice barely audible.

Her smile widened. "There it is. I see you remember now."

"You were supposed to be dead," Lucian said, his voice hardening.

Amara laughed, a chilling sound that sent a shiver down his spine. "Death is such a fragile thing, isn't it? Much like loyalty. Tell me, Lucian—how loyal are your allies? Do you really think you can trust them?"

"You don't know anything about my people," Lucian snapped.

"Oh, but I do," Amara purred, circling him like a predator. "You see, the Council isn't your only enemy. Sometimes, the greatest threat comes from within."

Before he could respond, she vanished into the shadows, her laughter lingering in the air.

Lucian stood frozen, her words echoing in his mind.

As he returned to the camp, the battle was nearly over. The Council's forces had been driven back, but the cost was clear—injured warriors, shattered defenses, and a growing sense of unease.

Lyra approached him, her face etched with concern. "What happened? Where did you go?"

Lucian's jaw tightened. "Amara. She's alive."

Lyra's eyes widened in shock. "Amara? The one who—"

"Yes," Lucian interrupted, his tone sharp. "And she knows more about us than she should. We need to move, now."

But as they prepared to leave, one question lingered in Lucian's mind: Who among them could he truly trust?