Darius woke with a clarity he hadn’t felt in days, his body light and his thoughts focused. Whatever unease had haunted his sleep was gone, replaced by a single purpose: get close to Karev. If danger was gathering in Sadnon, then he needed to know how.

  He washed quickly, the cold water banishing the last traces of fatigue, and pulled on a long-sleeved tunic, just as Favian had instructed. The fabric sat snugly over his wrist, hiding the band completely. Satisfied, he made his way to Favian’s room.

  The Truther lay still, breathing slow and even, lost in a deep, healing sleep. Darius lingered at the doorway for a moment, watching the rise and fall of his chest, then quietly withdrew. Waking him would serve no purpose.

  As he stepped back into the hall, Meredith’s words from the night before crept into his thoughts. Prisoners. The idea gnawed at him. He considered turning back, telling Favian what he’d heard, but the thought of raising false hope stayed his tongue. If Ron was dead, then hope would only wound Favian further. Better to wait and be very sure.

  Breakfast was simple and unremarkable. Darius sat with Nathan’s family, listening more than he spoke, committing every small detail to memory. The normality of it all felt fragile, as though it might shatter at the slightest disturbance.

  When the meal was finished, they prepared to leave. Meredith and Nathan readied themselves for the market, while Catherine stayed behind to tend to Favian. Darius followed the others out into the morning air, the city already stirring around them.

  As they set off towards the market, Darius kept his gaze forward and his sleeves pulled low, his resolve firm.

  The cart rattled steadily along the stone road and for a while, he said nothing, watching the city wake around them. Then, as casually as he could manage, he turned to Meredith.

  “Are you meeting Karev today?” he asked.

  She looked at him in mild surprise. “Why do you ask?”

  Darius hesitated just long enough to make it seem natural. “I was thinking about what happened the night Favian was attacked,” he said. “If I’d had a bow in my hands, the Rageler wouldn’t have been able to do as much damage. I could use more archery practice.”

  Meredith’s expression softened with understanding. “Oh,” she said. “That makes sense.” After a moment, she nodded. “Yes, I’m meeting Karev later. Around noon.”

  Darius felt a quiet surge of relief. “Would you mind if I came along?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t mind at all.”

  At the market, the morning unfolded as usual. Darius worked beside Nathan, his hands busy while his mind was anything but.

  All morning, he rehearsed the lie he would tell Karev.

  Of course, Karev already knew he was a Truther. That much was certain. And he might suspect Darius’ true reason as well— that he wanted to understand the Valiants’ movements, to know where they watched and where they did not. Still, Darius needed answers.

  And then there were the prisoners.

  If Ron was among them, alive and breathing, then there was hope. Dangerous hope, perhaps, but hope all the same. And Darius knew he would risk far more than caution to find out the truth.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  For Darius, noon refused to arrive.

  The morning stretched on like a taunt. Each toll of the market bell sounded too early, each glance at the sun revealed it still climbing, unhurried and indifferent.

  Darius worked, but without rhythm—his hands moved while his thoughts raced ahead. He miscounted sacks, tightened ropes twice, then loosened them again.

  He caught himself watching Meredith more than the work, measuring the passing time by her movements rather than the sun. His foot tapped against the stone without his permission, and more than once Nathan shot him a questioning look.

  Darius blamed the heat, the crowd, anything but the truth, that his patience was burning away, replaced by a restless urgency he could not quiet.

  At last, when it felt as though the morning had gone on for an age, Meredith straightened and brushed her hands clean.

  “I’m heading off to see Karev,” she announced.

  Relief surged through Darius so sharply he nearly smiled. He caught himself just in time and fell into step beside her as though this had been the plan all along.

  As they made their way through the streets, Meredith spoke again. “I’m not certain we’ll be going to target practice,” she said. “I think we’ll spend the time at the Red Dome instead.”

  Darius glanced at her. “The Red Dome?” He hesitated, then asked, “Why are you allowed in there? You’re not a Valiant.”

  Meredith gave a small, almost shy smile. “Because I’m Karev’s bride-to-be.”

  Darius stopped short. “And—?”

  “And,” she added, as though it were merely another rumour, “there’s talk that Karev will soon be named an Arch-Valiant.”

  The words struck Darius like a blow. An Arch-Valiant?

  He forced himself to keep walking, but his thoughts reeled. Karev was already dangerous and had seen too much, yet he was rising even higher within the order. Whatever game Karev was playing, the stakes had just grown far more deadly.

  At last, they reached the outskirts of the market, where the noise thinned and the crowds gave way to open stone and guarded streets. There, just beyond the final row of stalls, stood Karev, flanked by a dozen Valiants in black. They were spaced with practised ease, hands resting near weapons, eyes scanning the surroundings with quiet menace.

  As Darius had expected, Karev broke away from the group the moment he saw them.

  His gaze locked onto Darius first, assessing and predatory.

  Darius swallowed hard. This was the first time they had stood face to face since the night of Oliver’s rescue, and the memory of it rose unbidden: blood, fear and truth laid bare. Karev closed the distance with unhurried confidence.

  He embraced Meredith warmly, one arm around her shoulders, murmuring something too low for Darius to hear. Then Karev turned back to him, that same intent stare settling once more.

  Darius forced a smile. “Good day,” he said, injecting false brightness into his voice. “It’s… good to see you.”

  Karev’s lips curved in a smile. “Likewise,” he replied, matching the tone perfectly.

  Meredith glanced between them, oblivious to the tension coiled tight between the two men. “Are you going for bow practice?” she asked Karev.

  Karev shook his head. “No. The Red Dome.”

  Meredith turned to Darius with a small grin. “See? I told you.”

  Before Darius could respond, Karev spoke again. “You should come with us,” he said, eyes never leaving Darius’ face. “See the Dome for yourself.”

  Darius’s breath caught. “I—” He faltered, his courage draining away as fear surged in its place. He had planned to stay close, listen and observe from the edges, not to walk straight into the heart of the Valiants.

  The Red Dome was their den.

  Karev stepped closer and clapped a hand on Darius’ shoulder, the gesture friendly yet possessive. “Don’t worry,” he said lightly. “It’ll be fun. You’ve nothing to fear.”

  The words rang hollow.

  Still, with Meredith already turning to follow and the Valiants falling into motion, Darius had little choice. He nodded stiffly and trailed after them, keeping to the rear. Each step felt heavier as he fought to steady his breathing, to quiet the panic thrumming in his chest.

  He had wanted answers. Instead, he was walking straight into danger.