RickAdams

A war-scarred military commander. A world-renowned doctor shrouded in mystery. Bound by secrets, hunted by enemies, and tied by a vow soaked in blood — together they must fight the forces that seek to tear them apart.
Love, power, and revenge converge in this spellbinding romance where nothing is as it seems.

Tactical Desires

Location: Blackwood Manor – War Council Hall

The storm outside mirrored the brewing turmoil within Blackwood Manor. Lightning cracked above the mountains, sending tremors through the sprawling estate. Inside the War Council Hall, Damien stood at the head of the long obsidian table, surrounded by his most trusted allies.

Nora, seated beside him, reviewed the satellite images of the Crimson Wastes. Xavier leaned against the stone wall, arms folded, his gaze cold. Cassandra, Damien's lead intelligence officer, stepped forward with a fresh report.

"The Crimson Wastes are shifting," she began. "Whatever Althea is doing out there, it's altering the terrain. We're picking up seismic anomalies and electromagnetic pulses at intervals we can't explain."

Damien nodded, eyes narrowing. "She's not just gathering power. She's reshaping the battlefield."

Nora looked up from the screen. "So it's a trap."

"Of course it is," Xavier muttered. "But we don't have the luxury of staying away."

Damien's voice cut through the tension. "We go."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

"Prepare two strike teams," Damien ordered. "One visible. One ghost. We'll move under cover of night, recon the perimeter, and establish a fallback point."

Cassandra hesitated. "Damien, this isn't just a tactical risk—it's personal. She knows your patterns. Your emotions."

"That's why I'll be unpredictable," he replied coldly. "And that's why I'll win."

He turned to Nora. "You'll lead the ghost team. Get close. Get intel. Do not engage unless I signal."

She nodded, eyes sharp. "Understood."

Suddenly, a holographic alert shimmered into view.

INCOMING TRANSMISSION – UNKNOWN SOURCE

Everyone turned as the projection flickered, then stabilized.

Althea's face appeared, bathed in a crimson glow. "Three nights," she said, voice dripping with venom. "Don't be late, Damien. I've prepared a stage worthy of your legacy."

Xavier slammed a fist onto the table. "We should eliminate her now!"

"No," Damien said calmly. "She wants a performance. We'll give her one—our final act will be hers to remember."

The storm outside howled louder. As lightning forked across the sky, Damien's eyes glowed with resolve.

Let the Crimson Wastes burn. He was ready.

The Crimson Wastes Beckon