My half-crazy master used to say, “A true warrior’s spirit shines brightest when the world is cloaked in darkness.”

For the first time in my life, I felt an urgency unlike anything I’d ever experienced. A kind of desperation that made my lungs burn and my legs scream in protest. I wasn’t just running. I was hurtling through the night like a bat out of hell.

My mind was doing cartwheels over Catherine’s little murder plot. And it wasn’t just me she was after. That smug, oversized Silverlion prick had openly declared that by the time the sun rose, my house would be nothing more than a blood-soaked memory.

But we are the Stormbournes, for Pete’s sake! We aren’t some backwater noble house waiting to be stomped on. We have magic swordsmen among us, like Aiden and Grinwald.

Did Catherine honestly believe she could just waltz in and take us down?

Oh right. She had that Arcane Swordsman in her corner. What was the guy’s name again? James Wuss? James Russ? Yeah, he’d be a problem, but one guy wasn’t enough to turn the tide of an entire battle. Was he?

Still, what had driven the Lysanders to go this far?

They weren’t desperate nobodies clawing for scraps. This was House Lysander we were talking about. The second most powerful noble family in the kingdom, sitting just behind ours. They had deep ties to the royal family, an influence that stretched across the court. If they were making a move this bold, they must’ve been damn confident they’d pull it off.

But how?

Did they really think they could withstand my father’s wrath and walk away in one piece? Had they forgotten the stories? The battles, the victories, the sheer chaos he brought to the field? The king himself had named him the Tempest Blade. Not just because it sounded cool, but because the man could literally command the wind with his sword.

Of course, I’d never actually seen that happen. Not even once. But the way Grinwald and a few of the other old guys talked about it, you’d think my father was part storm god.

Him summoning raging storms and fierce gales to slice through armies, cutting down enemies with the force of a hurricane? Yeah, maybe only half of that was true. Still, his reputation alone was enough to make most enemies hesitate.

And yet, the Lysanders had dared to challenge us.

It had to be either sheer arrogance or total desperation. One of the two had driven them to a move this reckless. Were they really so willing to drag themselves into a war against our family, the strongest in the kingdom, just to meet their own end? Or maybe there was something more. Some twisted layer to this mess that made them think they could actually win.

A disloyal dog in the pack? The thought hit me, sharp and cold, like a knife twisting in my belly.

Could there be a traitor in our house? Someone feeding them secrets, slowly weakening us from the inside?

The more I turned it over in my mind, the more plausible it started to feel. An attack this coordinated, planned with that much precision, wasn’t something you just pulled off without inside help. That could only mean someone from the Stormbourne family had a hand in it.

But who?

My uncles? Please. They didn’t have the backbone for anything this bold. From what I knew, the three fat geezers mostly knew how to drink and flirt with the barmaids at the Royal Rose. Always leering at them in those short skirts, laughing too loud, and racking up debts they never planned to pay. If they were part of some grand scheme, it was probably just a plot to score another round for free. So they were out. That left the main household.

Obviously not me.

Alistair? Not unless someone threatened to knuckle him in the head with a fist.

Aeryn? Too pretty. Too poetic. Probably couldn’t lie without blushing.

Alice? Come on. No way. She was five years old. Our sweet little Alice still needed help to tie her shoes. If I suspected her, I might as well start eyeing Nibbles like he was cooking up a revolution while he was napping all the time.

That left just one name.

Aiden.

Now that I thought about it, something had felt off during the lunch reception. I’d caught him whispering with Catherine, both of them stiff and way too serious. Like they were hiding something. It hadn’t sat right with me then, and it definitely didn’t now.

Could he be disillusioned with the family? But why? He had everything. The prestige, the talent, the admiration of everyone. He was the heir. The future of House Stormbourne was practically handed to him with a silver platter and a bow. What more could he possibly want?

And yet, if someone had betrayed us, no one else fit the role the way he did.

I finally came to a stop at the edge of town, lungs burning, breath coming in short bursts. I couldn’t believe I’d run the entire way.

“Next time you go into town, use a damn horse, you idiot,” I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair.

From a distance, the place I called home was veiled in thick black smoke. It rose in columns, blotting out the stars. The estate, once a proud symbol of my family’s power and status, had become a battlefield. It wasn’t just a place the Stormbourne cherished anymore. It was anarchy, fire, and death.

I steeled myself and forced my tired body to move, though every instinct screamed at me to turn back.

At the estate gate, I saw the aftermath of a battle.

Our sentry guards lay dead, sprawled across the ground, their bodies tangled with those of Silverlion soldiers. The scene beyond the gate was nothing like the orderly grounds I remembered.

Buildings were on fire, flames licking at the dark sky, as if they had a hunger of their own—one that couldn’t be satisfied. Smoke billowed thickly, choking the air. The acrid stench of burning wood was enough to make me want to puke, but there was a sickening scent mixed in with it, one I didn’t want to think about. Distant wails of battle and death echoed, blending with the night air, almost like the land itself was crying out in pain.

My family’s home was under siege, and the once-proud banners of House Stormbourne now lay charred and tattered in the wind.

Then my eyes widened as something from earlier today hit me.

The dream. This was exactly what I’d seen.

The vision of our family’s downfall, unfolding right in front of my eyes. But in the dream, there had been Jitters. He stood in the heart of the inferno, untouched by the flames, his piercing green eyes locked onto mine.

What did it mean? Why had I seen that?

Don’t tell me Jitters was the traitor? Our meeting in the alleyway… it probably hadn’t been some random coincidence. Maybe it had been arranged by something or by some being beyond our comprehension—

Nah, what the hell was I thinking? I was talking crazy again. It was ridiculous. A cat orchestrating something this horrifying? How could I even entertain that idea?

I shook my head, shoving the thought aside like a bad dream. This wasn’t the time for that kind of thinking. I had to focus. The only thing that mattered was getting to my family, warning them, fighting alongside them, and praying I wasn’t too late. The fate of my house depended on it.

But where should I head first?

Of course, the main mansion! That must be where it all started.

The dinner reception where the whole family had gathered. And that’s probably where Catherine must have started her plan.

Damn that conniving bitch!

My footsteps clattered on the gravel as I dashed through the estate grounds. Everywhere I glanced, there were scenes of bloodshed that made me want to stop and gawk.

Estate guards, Silverlion soldiers, even members of the staff lay dead among the burning buildings. The remaining structures, those not yet consumed by flames, formed jagged silhouettes against the night sky. Bright green eyes glinted from the shadows within them. The fire’s roar merged with the distant sounds of battle and terrified screams, creating a truly nightmarish soundscape.

The grand mansion came into view, with a few parts of its walls already engulfed in flames. Smaller fires licked hungrily at its edges. The unwelcoming sight made me stop, grimacing.

On the ground, I spotted a figure I knew all too well.

Warden Grinwald.

His chest rose and fell faintly, and he still gripped his bloody sword. Around him lay four Silverlions, their lifeless eyes staring vacantly at the sky.

I reached out, turned Grinwald over, and his eyes fluttered open. I looked down at him, filled with sadness and the fear that he might not make it through.

“Warden! Wake up, don’t die,” I said, giving him a light shake.

Grinwald’s vision was foggy, but he could focus his gaze on me.

“Alex… is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Good… at least you’re still alive. You need to run, Alex… The Silverlions are still roaming around, killing people.”

“Since when had you been done in by these mere soldiers? You’re an expert level!” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Not just soldiers. Magic swordsmen… there’s a dozen or so in the Lysanders’ force. Adept and Skilled.”

I glanced at the fallen Silverlions around me. “But we have our ‘Stormtroopers.’ Where are they, and why aren’t they helping?”

Stormbourne Stormtroopers were our elite guards, skilled at the highest levels. Their captain, Gantz Hoffmeier, was a master swordsman, one level above Aiden and Grinwald. He had served my father faithfully for ten years.

“Huh?” Grinwald squinted at me as if trying to understand what I was implying. “You mean… our Stormreavers?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what I meant.”

Grinwald blew out a breath. “They’re escorting your father to the royal meeting in Tuvia.”

“All twenty of them?” My brows creased.

“Yes.”

“Why does he need all of our elites? He’s the strongest man in the land.”

Grinwald coughed violently, his lips stained with blood.

“Hey, old man, don’t die on me now.” I started to panic. “I’ll get Wallenby; he can patch you up.”

“I think I’m beyond it, Alex.” His voice was barely a whisper now. “Remember this last piece of advice. All men have weaknesses, even though they’re strong like your father. And your father is taking them to Tuvia.”

“Taking what with him?”

“Your mother and your sister.”

“Mom and Alice!” My eyes widened. How could I have been so blind?

“That’s right, Alex. Your father couldn’t fight at his full strength when he had to protect his loved ones.”

I shook my head, cursing my lack of insight.

“Now run… At least you’re safe from this madness. Tell your father what took place here. Live, Master Alex.”

“And Aeryn and Alistair?” I asked. “I need to find them.”

“Not sure where they are. Probably at the main mansion,” another cough. “And Aiden… He fought off five Silverlions the last time I saw him.”

I sighed with relief. That ruled out Aiden as a traitor. “But where is he now?”

“I think he’s fighting Catherine’s personal bodyguard somewhere.”

“Are you talking about that James Wuss guy?”

“Huh?” Grinwald’s eyes narrowed again. “You mean… Lance White?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what I said,” I nodded.

At that moment, an explosion erupted from the rooftop of the main mansion. A bright light vivified the dark sky, blinding me briefly. The clash of magic swordsmen created a dazzling display of spells and blades linking in destruction.

“Grinwald, I think Aiden’s up on the roof fighting that Lance dude.”

But when I turned back, Grinwald’s eyes were closed. His breathing had stopped.

The old man had finally kicked the bucket. I couldn’t help but feel grief, knowing I had come close to killing him myself.

I rose to my feet and drew my sword. My long-neglected partner, which I had tucked under my bed for years, felt rather significant in my hands.

With a deep breath, I sprinted toward the main mansion. I had to find out what happened to Aeryn and Alistair. I wasn’t sure how I could turn the current situation to my favor, but I was definitely going to find a way to escape this violent madness.