The thunder rolled long before the rain fell.
From her window, Eliana watched the storm crawl over the horizon like an advancing army. The sky was split open by streaks of white fire, and the trees bowed beneath the wind's fury. It felt like the world itself mirrored the chaos inside her, the dread, the guilt, the slow-burning anger that had nowhere to go.
The Moreaux estate was unusually quiet. Too quiet. Guards were stationed at every corridor, and the tension was thick enough to taste. Somewhere in the east wing, Damien was meeting with his lieutenants, men who would kill for him without hesitation. Men who had, in some cases, already done so.
Eliana wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Sleep hadn't come in days, not since she'd returned from the rebel gathering. The images replayed every time she closed her eyes: the fervent faces, the whispered plans, Calder's steady gaze meeting hers across the flickering lamplight.
He'd said one thing before she left that still echoed in her head.
"When the time comes, Eliana, you'll have to decide what freedom really means."
Now she wasn't sure if she even knew.
A soft knock came at her door. She didn't turn. "It's unlocked."
The door creaked open, and Lucien stepped inside, rain dripping from his coat. His face was drawn, the usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion.
"They're moving tonight," he said quietly.
Eliana's pulse quickened. "The rebels?"
He nodded. "They plan to strike one of Damien's supply convoys at dawn. Calder sent a message, it's happening near the southern border."
She turned from the window. "And Damien knows?"
Lucien's jaw tightened. "Not yet. But he suspects there's a leak."
Eliana's stomach twisted. A leak. That word was a blade. She was the leak.
She'd passed Calder the convoy routes herself two nights ago.
Lucien studied her. "You can still pull back, Eliana. Whatever game you're playing, it's getting too dangerous."
She met his eyes, a tremor in her voice. "You think I'm doing this for fun?"
"I think," he said softly, "you're doing this for something you can't even name anymore."
His words hit harder than she expected. For a moment, she almost broke, but she couldn't. Not now. Not when she'd come this far.
"Tell Damien nothing," she said. "Not yet. Let me handle this."
Lucien frowned. "You're playing with fire."
She looked back out at the storm. "Then I guess it's time to burn."
***
By midnight, the rain had grown heavier, drumming against the windows like war drums. Eliana slipped from her room and made her way through the corridors, her footsteps soundless on the marble floor. She knew Damien's schedule well enough now to predict where he'd be, the strategy chamber on the lower floor, alone, poring over maps and reports like a man trying to control a dying god.
She found him there, exactly as expected.
He didn't look up when she entered. "Couldn't sleep again?"
"No." She closed the door behind her. "Neither could you."
Damien's eyes flicked toward her, sharp and unreadable. "Storms have a way of keeping people awake."
"So do secrets," she replied.
That made him pause. He leaned back in his chair, the candlelight throwing shadows across his face. "You've learned that much, have you?"
"I've learned that power isn't built on loyalty," she said. "It's built on fear. And eventually, fear breaks."
He studied her carefully. "Who taught you that?"
"You did," she said, voice steady.
For a long moment, silence filled the room, thick, suffocating. The rain lashed harder against the windows.
Then Damien rose from his chair and walked toward her, slow, deliberate steps that made the air itself seem to tighten.
"You've changed," he said again, like it was both a compliment and a warning. "You speak like someone who's forgotten where she stands."
"Maybe I'm remembering," she said. "Remembering who I was before all this."
He stopped a few feet away, eyes burning. "That girl is gone. You can't go back to her."
"Maybe not," she whispered. "But I can decide who I become next."
Damien's expression hardened. "You think you can stand against me?"
She met his gaze without flinching. "I don't want to stand against you, Damien. But I won't stand behind you anymore."
For a second, she thought he might strike her. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Be careful, Eliana. The world you're trying to fight doesn't forgive betrayal."
She held his gaze, heart pounding. "Neither do I."
**
By dawn, the storm had broken, but the world outside was soaked and gray. Eliana rode hard for the southern border, her cloak whipping behind her in the wind. The convoy route lay ahead, a narrow pass cutting through the mist-covered forest. The rebels would strike soon. If she wanted to stop the bloodshed, she had to reach them first.
Her horse thundered down the path, hooves splashing through the mud. The air was thick with the scent of rain and gunpowder, telltale signs that the battle had already begun.
She arrived just as chaos erupted.
Smoke filled the clearing. Gunfire cracked through the trees. Shouts echoed as the convoy guards clashed with rebel fighters. She spotted Calder near the ridge, his face streaked with mud and fury, barking orders.
"Calder!" she shouted, pulling her horse up short.
He turned, shock flashing in his eyes. "Eliana? What the hell are you doing here?"
"You have to stop this! Damien's men will slaughter you all!"
Calder shook his head. "It's too late. The ambush is already in motion."
Before she could reply, a gunshot rang out. Calder's lieutenant fell beside him, blood splattering across the mud. Eliana froze, her breath catching.
And then she saw him. Damien, emerging through the smoke on horseback, his black coat whipping like a banner of death. His men followed close behind, firing into the trees with ruthless precision.
The rebels scattered. Calder grabbed Eliana's arm. "Go! Get out of here!"
But she couldn't move. The world had collapsed into chaos, the man she'd betrayed and the man she'd trusted facing each other in the storm's aftermath.
Damien dismounted, his eyes locking on hers through the smoke. For one terrible second, everything went silent.
Then he spoke, his voice like a knife through the rain.
"Traitor."
Her heart stopped. "Damien.."
"You led them here," he hissed. "You sold us out."
"No," she said desperately. "I was trying to stop it!"
"Don't lie to me." He stepped closer, gun in hand, the fury in his face cold and precise. "You think I didn't know? Every whisper, every movement, you've been under my watch since the night you left this house."
The truth hit her like a blow. He'd known all along.
Tears stung her eyes. "Then why didn't you stop me?"
His jaw clenched. "Because I wanted to see how far you'd go."
Lightning flashed between them, white and blinding. Behind them, the battle raged on, but neither moved. The storm wasn't outside anymore, it was between them.
Calder shouted from behind the ridge, "Eliana, we have to go!"
Damien's gaze flickered toward him, then back to her. "You're with him now?"
She shook her head, voice breaking. "I'm not with anyone. I just wanted..."
"To be free?" he interrupted, bitter laughter cutting through the air. "Freedom is an illusion, Eliana. You were born into a cage. I just made it golden."
The words tore through her. And in that moment, she understood: whatever bound them wasn't love. It was something darker. Something that consumed and destroyed.
The next shot came without warning.
Calder fired first, missing Damien by inches. Damien turned, returning fire with lethal accuracy. Calder fell to his knees, clutching his shoulder.
Eliana screamed. "No!"
She ran to him, but Damien caught her arm, pulling her back hard. "Don't," he growled. "He made his choice."
"So did I!" she cried, wrenching free. "And this isn't the woman I chose to become."
She knelt beside Calder, pressing her hand to the wound, shaking with fury and grief. Behind her, Damien stood silent, the rain washing blood and ash from his hands.
When she looked back at him, her voice was steel. "You can kill me if you want, Damien. But you'll never own me again."
He said nothing. Just watched her through the rain, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, rage, heartbreak, or maybe both.
Then he turned and walked away. The thunder rolled again, drowning the sound of her sobs.
And for the first time, Eliana realized the storm within her wasn't just anger or fear.
It was power, raw, wild, and terrifying. The kind of power that could unmake a king.