The road south was littered with ghosts.Luca rode hard through the night, the hooves of his horse pounding the dirt into rhythm with his heartbeat. Every mile brought the stink of smoke sharper, the horizon darker. He didn’t need scouts to tell him where Leo had passed, villages lay in ruins, fields burned to stubble, the earth itself scarred black.His brother hadn’t just declared war. He had salted the ground they both once called home.Memories clawed at him as he rode: sparring with Leo as boys, the younger brother always hungry to prove himself; nights they had whispered dreams of kingdoms united, of a family unbroken. All of it twisted now into ash and flame.Why, Leo? Luca thought as he passed another corpse in the road, a woman clutching her child to her chest, both burned beyond recognition. Why make war against what we bled to protect?The wound at his side ached, every throb a reminder that Leo’s blades had already touched him. His shadows stirred restlessly, drawn to the

The tent seemed to shrink around him, the firelight flickering like the heartbeat of something alive and malignant. Luca’s eyes roamed the faces of his captains, sharp and unyielding, trying to read the layers of fear and loyalty hidden beneath their expressions. Every man looked away at just the wrong moment, every whispered murmur a potential knife in the dark. He could almost feel the enemy breathing in the shadows, tasting the fractures in his command.Grace placed a hand on his arm, firm but grounding. “Luca,” she said again, softer this time, “don’t let it get under your skin. We’ve survived worse than whispers and fear.”“I don’t survive whispers,” he muttered, his voice a low rumble. “I survive blades in the dark, betrayal I can see, enemies I can name.” He paused, scanning the room. “But ghosts…” He let the word hang in the air, thick and suffocating. “Ghosts I can’t name. Ghosts that wear the faces of my own men.”A chill ran down his spine. The thought alone made the fireli

Luca’s hand hovered over his sword, but the shadows around him coiled like living serpents, gripping the captain in place. His breath came in ragged bursts, heart hammering against his ribs, fury and disbelief warring in his chest. The man before him had been his brother in arms, a man he had trusted with his life, a man whose loyalty he had once taken for granted.“How long?” Luca asked, his voice low, controlled, but threaded with ice. “How long have you been feeding him our plans, our positions, our weaknesses?”The captain’s smile widened, cruel and unrepentant. “Since the first winter. Since the night your soldiers froze while you slept. I’ve carried his word in my mouth and in my heart, and you never suspected. You trusted too much, Luca. You always trust too much.”The firelight danced across his face, revealing the familiar angles that had once been warm, now twisted by betrayal. Luca’s shadows pressed tighter, a silent reminder that he could end this instantly. Yet he did not

Rome breathed like a wounded beast that night. Smoke clung to the skyline, twisting into the pale moonlight, while the streets echoed with distant gunfire and the shuffle of boots. From the rooftops to the alleys, shadows stalked, carrying whispers of betrayal.Luca moved through the chaos with Grace at his side. Every step he took felt heavier than the last, as though the stone beneath him carried the weight of all the blood that had been spilled. He could still see Leo’s smile, hear the venom in his voice, feel the knife of betrayal carving deeper than any blade.The city was no longer just a battleground, it was a graveyard for loyalty.They had heard rumors of a gathering in the catacombs beneath the old monastery. A meeting where Leo’s men weren’t just recruiting soldiers but striking bargains with senators, merchants, even priests. It wasn’t war anymore; it was conspiracy. A net being woven strand by strand, ready to suffocate everything Luca fought to protect.Grace caught his

The night air outside the villa pressed heavy against Luca’s skin, thick with the weight of betrayal. He could still feel Leo’s treachery burning in his chest, like acid eating away at his insides. Every muscle in his body ached for violence, for control, for something to bleed beneath his hands. But instead of enemies, instead of war, he was met with silence and shadows.And Grace.She stood there in the corridor of their safe house, her hair wild, eyes flashing with something between fury and heartbreak. The lamplight struck her face like a painting come alive, too beautiful for the ruin they lived in, too dangerous to ignore.“Luca,” she whispered, but her voice was jagged, like glass. “How could he? How could Leo do this?”He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Words were weak when the world itself seemed to be crumbling. His hands curled into fists, veins straining with the urge to tear something apart. But when his eyes locked on hers, it wasn’t violence against the enemy he craved.It was