“Don’t answer that,” Dorias snapped.
Tia flinched, her shoulders curling inwards as if trying to disappear.
“How. Many. Times?!” The words tore from Katell, raw with frustration and despair. She took a step closer to Tia, sword still poised, chest heaving with ragged breaths.
“I don’t know!” The protest broke from Tia, splintering in her throat. Her whole body shook like a cornered animal. “A half dozen, maybe more. I?—”
The admission struck Katell in the gut, knocking the air from her lungs. Bile surged in her throat. She forced it back, but couldn’t stop the tears that burned in her eyes.
“When?” she pressed. “When did you first use it?”
Tia’s gaze darted between her and Dorias, panic flashing across her face. At last, she whispered, “After the Westerners attacked our camp at the border. During the first interrogation you joined.”
Katell’s mind pulled her back to that day—the Westerners dragged into the dim, stifling tent by Cinto and Larth. She remembered the flickering torchlight, the shadows dancing across their faces, and the way Tia had woven her illusions to pry information from them.
“You thought I was using my Gift on the prisoners,” Tia continued, her voice barely audible. “But you were in the illusion, too. You heard what you needed to hear—to…”
Katell went rigid, her breath turning shallow. “To what?”
“To make the right decision.” Dorias’ tone was smooth, as though explaining a simple truth. “And join the Sixth. You were almost ready, but not quite. You just needed… a little push.”
The words landed with devastating clarity. Katell’s mind reeled, trying to piece together the truth hidden beneath layers of deceit.
“You manipulated me,” she whispered, her voice strangled. “You never made Nik the offer to join us.” The pieces were falling into place, each revelation creating a fresh wound. “ You never sent anyone to look for my sister in Bruna. And you…” The final betrayal cut the deepest, tearing through what little remained of her faith in him. “You told the Emperor about the Freefolk.”
Dorias didn’t flinch. He held her gaze, his expression calm, as if weighing the need for further deception. When he spoke, his tone was unrepentant. “I did.”
Katell stumbled, a dull roaring filled her ears. Tears stung her eyes, blurring the face of the man she thought she knew. The man who had stood by her side, trained her, and protected her at all costs—gone.
No. Not gone.
He had never been real.
Her chest heaved as she fought to regain control. She refused to let him see her crumble, refused to give him the satisfaction of her pain.
“But you weren’t supposed to find out this way,” Dorias continued, his words laced with quiet condemnation. He took a step towards Tia, his presence towering like a storm cloud ready to break. “You weren’t supposed to break out of the illusion.”
Tia stood frozen, her gaze silently pleading for something Katell couldn’t decipher. The makeshift arena seemed to hold its breath. Soldiers flanked the perimeter, their weapons glinting ominously under the bright sun. Behind them, the huddled Freefolk slaves watched in horrified silence, their faces pale and eyes wide, fear rooting them in place. Every sound—the scrape of a blade, thecrunchof sand beneath boots—rang louder against the oppressive stillness.
Dorias’ lips curled into a faint smirk, a mockery of his usual charm. “Oh, Furia,” he said, the nickname delivered with cruel irony, as though she were an errant child caught in a game she didn’t understand. “Whatever will I do with you now?”
The words hung in the air, and Tia stifled a sob, her shoulders trembling.
Furia.The affectionate name Dorias had chosen for her—personal, intimate.
Lovers didn’t give endearing names to those they spent a single night with. Whatever had happened between them was more than a fleeting entanglement—it was another thread in the web of lies Dorias had spun.
Another betrayal.
It explained Tia’s jealousy and the warning she’d given Katell after the legate’s banquet in the Western Lands. Dorias had played her, too. He’d used Tia to manipulate Katell, and now that she’d allowed Katell to escape his trap, she was expendable.
Romilda unsheathed a dagger from her belt. “She’s a liability.”
Blood drained from Tia’s face, and Katell’s breath hitched. “Tia,” she urged, heart racing, “use your Gift. Get out of here—now!”
Tia shook her head. Across from her, Romilda’s thin blade caught the sunlight with a deadly gleam.
“Tia!” Katell angled her body to shield the younger woman as best she could.
