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The hairs on the back of my neck stand at the mention of Oberon’s ruthless cousin, bringing back pieces of the past, both the stories told to me as well as my own painful experiences of the monster they send when blood is to be spilled.
I shake the thought away, focusing back on Oberon as he continues. “He’s smart, striking where it hurts the most, supply lines, informants, safe houses.” His fingers curl into a fist over the map. “Right now, the King still believes his biggest threat is a handful of disgruntled farmers and petty thieves. That works in our favor, for now. But Keagan isn’t blind. He’s watching, waiting for something to confirm his suspicions. The moment he realizes we’re more than just scattered factions, the moment he sees the full extent of our network, he will come down on us with everything he has.”
Silence settles over the room, heavy and unspoken.
“We need more allies,” Oberon presses on, shaking off the weight of the conversation. “The southern territories remain largely neutral, but that won’t last forever. If we offer them something they can’t refuse, they’ll join our cause.”
“After that, we will turn to the western mountain clans. They’re fiercely independent, but they’re also at risk of being overrun in the army’s path. Convincing them won’t be easy.”
His voice becomes quieter, almost conspiratorial. “My father believes he’s hunting down rogue factions,” he says, a flicker of something dark in his gaze. “He still thinks we’re just a small group of rebels, insignificant and disorganized.”
My breath catches in my throat. I know what he is doing. I know he is playing both sides, the sacrifice he’s made by wearing the mask of his father’s loyal son. The pieces of himself lost to that person. But hearing him say it now, sitting here with him, discussing it . . . it feels different. It hits harder.
A cold edge enters Oberon’s voice as he continues, “His ignorance works to our advantage, for now. We need to use that. The longer he underestimates us, the stronger we become. We have to stay hidden, but I’ve been gathering intelligence, and soon, we’ll have enough to strike decisively.”
He pauses again, his gaze sweeping over the room, locking onto each person in turn, then back to me. His voice softens, but the determination in it is unmistakable. “We’re not ready yet,” he adds, his tone sharpening. “But we will be. When the time is right, we will prevail. We don’t have a choice.”
With a final glance around the room, he nods. “Meeting adjourned. We have work to do.”
Chapter twenty
Journey Ahead
After the meeting, Oberon motions for Ash, Zander, and me to step aside. The air in the room seems to shift as he enters full commander mode, and I can feel the weight of his gaze on me as he speaks. “The four of us will be heading to the southern territories,” Oberon says, his voice firm. “I need each of you with me for the journey ahead. Ash, you’ll continue to help Lyra with her magic and with the local negotiations. Zander, I want you to focus on her combat training and gather any useful intel from the villages. Understood?”
Ash grins, his usual sarcasm slipping back into place as he leans against the wall with an exaggerated sigh. “You and me again, sunshine. Ready for round two?” he says, winking at me like we are heading into some friendly match instead of the serious business at hand.
Zander’s face twists into a scowl at the orders, clearly displeased. He shoots me a glare, his gaze as cold as ever, but he doesn’t dare challenge Oberon a second time. Instead, he crosses his arms, clearly stewing in silence.
I raise an eyebrow, not letting the tension slide by unnoticed.
“And what will you be doing, Oberon?” I ask, my voice sharp, the snark coming easily.
The room stills for a moment.
Zander’s sour expression lightens ever so slightly at my jab, and I see the faintest glimmer of amusement flicker in his blue eyes. Ash chuckles softly, his usual playful grin widening.
Oberon doesn’t flinch at my sharp tongue. His eyes remain steady, focused on me with that unwavering intensity I have come to recognize. “I, my dear Lyra,” he says, his voice low and controlled, “will be working with you on both fronts, ensuring these two still ‘got it’.” He says, with an almost playful glint in his eye, “and making sure both sides of this damned war are playing their part to ensure our success.”
There is a flicker of something else in his tone, something more than just duty, but I can’t quite place it.
He pauses for a beat longer than necessary, his eyes momentarily flicking over me, as if he is evaluating something beneath the surface.
“And I think you’ll find, Lyra, that working together on all fronts might be . . . more pleasurable than you expect.”
My face flushes at the implication, and I can feel the tension rise between us. His tone is casual, but there is something deeper in the way he says it, like a reminder of all the unspoken things that linger between us.
Ash quips back with another grin. “So, basically, we get to do all the hard work while you sit back and take notes?”
Oberon’s lips curl into a half-smile, but it doesn’t soften his gaze. “You’ll have your hands full, Ash. Don’t worry.”
Zander rolls his eyes but says nothing, looking more irritated than ever. It is clear that we have a long road ahead, with all of us playing our parts in this delicate dance of rebellion.
Oberon lightens his stance. “We will be staying here tonight, but will be leaving in the morning.” His commander’s tone fading, he adds, “Get some rest. We have a challenging journey ahead of us.”
We all go our separate ways after that.
I spend the rest of the day wandering the stronghold, exploring the grounds while Oberon meets with the other leaders, and Ash does whatever it is Ash does when left to his own devices. I know we’ll regroup for dinner later, and Oberon will show me to my quarters before we leave at dawn.
