The docks at Milan were a ghost graveyard. Oil and salt hung in the air, enough to incinerate the lungs. Lanterns flailed wildly in the breeze, scattering shattered halos of light across the broken pavement. Water pounded against the pylons, an unending beat taunting the approaching storm.
Adriana crouched low behind a stack of old crates, her knife tight in her grip but her heart thumping in her ears. Damian hunched beside her, gun gripped in hand, eyes fixed on the silhouettes moving towards them. Beside them, Elara quivered, lips closed tightly as if to breathe too hard would get them caught.
And then he was standing there.
Lucian strode down the wharf as though it were his own. His coat was cut from darkness itself, his boots thundering against the wood with precise, crashing force. Soldiers fanned out behind him in well-trained silence, their arms glinting in the lantern light.
Adriana had imagined him a thousand times. But to see him his naked presence, cold control chiseled into every line of his face was to gaze into the abyss itself.
Damian moved back to her ear. "Remember. No hesitation."
She nodded, her breath icy in her chest.
Lucian stopped. He tilted his head an inch higher, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air like a wolf sensing wind. His gaze swept over the docks once, then locked on the very crates Adriana and Damian were cowering behind. His lips curled into a cold, contemptuous smile.
"Do you really think," Lucian's voice thundered out, smooth and rich, "that I would walk into your small trap without smelling the bait?"
The words sent shivers down Adriana's blood.
Damian growled muttering under his breath. "He knows."
Lucian raised his hand before Adriana could open her mouth. At once, his men fanned out, forming a semi-circle around her and cutting off all visible escape routes. Steel scrabbling out of scabbards seemed to ring through the air like a death curse.
Adriana coiled, ready to spring. But then another figure emerged out of the shadows.
Victor.
His stride was unhurried, his coat flaring behind him, his eyes gleaming with the delight of a man who knew he controlled the stage.
"Lucian," he drawled, voice like velvet draped over daggers. "You've always been too dramatic. Theatrics are best left to me."
Adriana's heart stuttered. Damian's finger tightened on the trigger.
Victor walked into the open space between Lucian and the hidden rebels, and turned slowly, his smile glinting in the lantern light. "Now," he said with an affected almost languor, "let's see where the wind is blowing."
"Elara," Lucian barked suddenly, his voice cutting across the tension.
Adriana flinched. Elara stiffened beside her, her eyes white with fear.
"Come forward," Lucian commanded. "Now."
Adriana slapped her hand over her arm. "Don't," she whispered urgently.
But Elara trembled, her tears dropping. She glared at Adriana with remorse so naked it split her in half. "I'm sorry,"
And she stood.
Adriana's stomach dropped. Damian cursed under his breath.
Elara stepped out into the daylight, her hands twisting. Her voice shook. "I, I couldn't prevent him. He told me… if I helped him, he'd let me live."
Lucian smiled falteringly. "And so you did, little bird."
Adriana's heart tightened. She had wanted to believe Elara's tears, her apologies. She had wanted to.
But Damian stood up fluidly, eyes narrowing, no hint of surprise on his face. "I warned you," he breathed to Adriana. "Trust is the most dangerous currency."
Lucian's soldiers changed position, swords at the ready. Adriana's chest constricted, walls of the trap closing in.
Victor slapped his hands together once, and it sounded like a shot. "Enough theatrics. Let's make this worth seeing."
Damian went first. His gun went off once, then twice neat, clean shots. Two of Lucian's men were down before the others knew the fight had begun.
Pandemonium erupted.
Adriana sprang forward, blade flashing in the lamplight. She sidestepped a sword, rolled under another, and sliced through the hamstring of the man in front of her. He thudded to the floor with a scream as she stood up, moving smoothly, striking again.
Lucian stood unmoving, watching, as if the carnage around him was merely entertainment. His eyes never left Damian.
Victor laughed, laughed actually. He wove through the combatants like a specter, changing sides with every strike, killing Lucian's men one moment, saving them the next. His grin expanded with each scream, each trickle of blood.
"This," Victor roared above the chaos, "is art!
The piers were a pit of colliding metal and gunfire. Adriana's body wailed with exertion, but she continued on, each motion perfected by desperation. A soldier rushed her, sword raised. She spun around, holding him at the wrist, and drove her blade into his throat.
Too many. For every man she eliminated, two more came forward. She staggered, wind ripped from her lungs, vision clouding.
"Adriana!" Damian's voice a blast above the bedlam. He was fighting like a machine, every shot a death warrant, every move years of conditioning. He cut a swath through to her, but Lucian stepped in his path with the offhand ease of a man swatting a fly.
Lucian finally drew his sword a curved, deadly sword that shimmered like liquid moonlight. "Turn and face me," he said to her, voice even, arrogant.
Damian pulled his gun, but Lucian was quicker than the eye, batting the gun away with a swift motion. The warlord's strength was enormous. Damian barely managed to parry the second blow with his knife. Sparks showered.
Adriana staggered towards them, throat constricted. She wasn't going to let Damian deal with him alone.
But Adriana didn't get a chance to step in before Elara caught her arm.
"Don't!" Elara begged, her eyes wild. "You'll be killed he'll kill you both!"
Adriana broke free, fury burning. "You betrayed us once. Don't you dare stop me now."
She shoved Elara aside and ran.
Victor rested against a crate, spinning a bloody dagger, watching as if this were a play performed specifically for his amusement. Soldiers died at his feet, their screams blending with the night. He cocked his head, savoring Lucian's savage effectiveness on Damian, Adriana's pointless bravery, the chaos of violence surrounding them all.
Then he exhaled a deep breath. "Time to tip the scales."
He retreated back into battle again, and for the first time, his sword sliced at Lucian's men with intent. He moved in battle like a ballerina, only with a more lethal path. His movements were unpredictable, a riddle no one could solve.
Damian watched. Despite fighting against Lucian's unrelenting attack, he saw Victor cutting through the warlord's soldiers like wheat.
Why? Why now?
Lucian shoved Damian back with ruthless precision. With each blow of his sword, Damian was forced to yield an inch, each parry rattling his bones. Sweat seared Damian's eyes, his muscles rebelled, yet he would not yield.
"You're strong," Lucian said, voice low, nigh respectful. "But strength without conviction means nothing. Tell me, Damian, what do you truly fight for?
Damian gritted his teeth, resisting the warlord's sword. "For her."
Lucian's look flickered to Adriana, who was fighting her way towards them with frantic determination. His smile darkened. "Then you are already defeated."
With a roar, he struck harder. Damian fell, knees buckling. Lucian's sword flashed high, ready to cut him in two.
But Adriana was there.
She sprang, crashing into Lucian with all her weight. Her knife shredded his chest, opening the first blood. It was not deep, but enough to make him step back a pace.
Lucian's eyes widened not with hurt, but with rage.
"Brash," he growled. "And dumb."
He slapped her with the back of his hand. The blow sent Adriana reeling across the dock, her knife skidding out of reach.
Damian's rage blazed. He launched himself, driving his knife towards Lucian's neck. Lucian wrapped his hand around his wrist in mid-strike, their muscles straining, their faces inches apart.
"You can't win," Lucian panted.
Damian growled. "Watch me."
The pier was a battlefield drenched in firelight now lanterns shattered, crates burning, bodies littering the deck. Elara cringed in the corner, sobbing, clapping her hands over her ears as the screams mounted.
Victor capered through the carnage, laughing like the very devil. "Yes," he gasped, blood smeared on his lips. "This is how legends are born."
Adriana hauled herself to standing, coughing up blood, forcing her legs to propel her. She glanced at Damian thrashing in Lucian's arms, watched the warlord's sword descend towards his chest.
"No," she gasped. "Not him. Not like that."
With trembling hands, she picked up a dropped gun. She aimed, her heart pounding, her eyes brimming with tears.
Lucian saw her. His eyes focused on hers, and his smile faltered for the first time.
Adriana pulled the trigger.
The shot boomed like thunder across the water.
The world remained suspended for the duration of one heartbeat.
Lucian staggered, his blade slipping from his hand, clattering against the dock. He touched his side, where blood blossomed through his coat. His eyes burned with fury, then with something colder.
He looked at Adriana truly looked at her. And then he laughed. A deep, resonant sound that chilled her more than any threat.
"This isn't over," Lucian said. His voice was hoarse but steady. "You've only delayed the inevitable."
He waved, and the last of the soldiers dragged him aside, running into blackness. The dock was empty in seconds save for bodies, fire, and waves crashing.
Victor reappeared, clapping slowly. "Bravo," he said, his smile as sharp as ever. "And do you see? The game has only just begun."
Adriana dropped the pistol, her hands shaking. She rushed to Damian's side, helping him to his feet. His face was pale, his body battered, but he was alive.
"Adriana," he murmured, voice rough. "You saved me."
She met his eyes, her throat tight. "I'd do it again. Every time."
He touched her cheek, just briefly, before his strength gave out and he leaned heavily on her.
Victor's gaze fell on them, interested, weighing. "Cautious," he spoke slowly. "The higher you ascend, the farther you fall. And Lucian? He does not fall."
Adriana turned to him, flame burning in her breast. "And you? Who are you with?"
Victor's grin widened further. "Mine."