LUCIAN'S P.O.V.
The battlefield was unnaturally silent after Edmond's words hung in the air, heavy as an executioner's blade. The scent of blood and wet earth combined with the metallic tang of betrayal, and I tightened my jaw as I turned toward the familiar voice. Edmond. His presence sliced through the tension like a jagged knife, and though I couldn't see him, his aura pressed against mine—challenging, mocking, and strangely amused.
Ares growled low in my mind, his rage mirroring my own, but I held him back—for now.
I straightened my shoulders, my eyes gazing unseeingly toward Edmond's voice. "What are you talking about?" I asked, keeping my tone steady, though the edges of my patience were fraying.
