Deborah's POV
In recent days, I had barely left the Edwards estate.
My steps are confined to this carefully constructed world of luxury, yet my thoughts churn restlessly beneath the surface.
Chad's behavior confused me, forcing me to reassess him constantly.
At least for now, he seemed to be aligned with me—on the surface, at least.
Whether for the sake of Tirfothuinn or Matthew, I desperately need him at this moment.
Internal information about the Sky Cities is far beyond my reach alone. Chad, with his position and access, has become an invaluable source, even if trust between us remains a distant prospect.
Trusting him? That was a far more complex matter.
I can't forget the conversation we had in the car. His calmness left me unsettled. He openly admitted to knowing how Mary had died. What shocked me even more was his accurate recounting of the truth: it was I who had sacrificed his mother to unseal the werewolves.
Yet his tone had been unnervingly steady as he spoke, devoid of anger or bitterness. It was as if he were discussing something utterly irrelevant to him, something that hadn't altered his life irreversibly.
His detachment unsettled me in ways I couldn't articulate.
Had he truly been indifferent?
Or was his lack of reaction a sign that he had never been emotionally connected to Mary in the first place?
I lay awake for many nights, grappling with these questions.
From what I had learned through Matthew, Mary had been everything to him. She bore Matthew in Tirnanog, but the childbirth complications left her unable to have more children. As her only son, Matthew became her entire world. She devoted herself wholly to him, showering him with a love so deep and enduring that even the hardships of life in the polluted underground could never diminish it.
Chad, however, presents an entirely different story.
He never grew up under Mary's care. Even as he referred to her as "mother," there wasn't the slightest trace of emotion in his voice. It made me wonder—had he ever truly felt Mary's presence in his life? Was she, to him, nothing more than a name, a blood connection devoid of warmth or significance?
Perhaps it was this disconnect that I found so difficult to reconcile.
Matthew's pain and fury come from losing the most important person in his life, someone who had given him unconditional love. But Chad's indifference stemmed from never having had that bond to begin with.
Two brothers, so different yet so painfully intertwined.
In my past life, I had no knowledge of this. I never asked about Chad's family, never sought to understand the roots of his pain. I believed our relationship was just between the two of us, uncomplicated by external ties.
Now, I'm beginning to realize how deeply I misunderstood him.
With this new knowledge of Chad's complex past, I can't help but wonder: how did he become Lugh's "loyal dog"?
Had it been deceit? Manipulation? Or something more sinister?
I know Lugh has the ability to use Domination, a mind-control technique, but even in my own experiences with it, I know the effects are temporary, lasting only a few hours at best.
Surely, Lugh couldn't use this power to control Chad indefinitely.
Unless… Lugh's mastery of Domination had been far beyond what I had imagined, allowing him to extend its limits.
Or perhaps Chad's allegiance isn't about control at all. Perhaps there's a deeper, darker reason—something that ties him to Lugh in ways I can't yet comprehend.
I must find out. To do so, I may need to set aside my resentment toward him, even if only temporarily, and meet him with honesty.
It's a dangerous gamble, but I have no other choice.
That night, I paced the halls of the Edwards estate, my thoughts as restless as the shadows stretching across the dimly lit corridors.
My steps led me to an unassuming door: Lugh's office.
I rarely approached his domain. It felt like walking into the heart of a predator's den. But this time, I couldn't resist.
Standing outside the door, I strained to catch fragments of the conversation inside. The voices were low, muffled, but one phrase had emerged clearly enough to send a chill down my spine: The Sky Cities Coalition Forces.
The words were new to me.
Coalition Forces? I repeated silently, my mind racing. The term carried unsettling implications.
I had known that the Sky Cities had never operated as a unified force. Each had its own interests, its own disputes. The thought of them forming a coalition—particularly a military one—was deeply troubling.
Suddenly, the pieces began to fall into place.
Lugh and Chad had been unusually busy in recent weeks, their movements shadowed in secrecy. Now, it seemed clear that whatever they were planning revolved around this Coalition Forces initiative.
I left the corridor quietly, retreating to the sanctuary of my room. But my mind was far from at peace.
What was the purpose of this coalition?
Was it aimed at attacking Tirfothuinn?
Was it yet another effort to enslave the werewolves, forcing them to mine Falshi until their bodies gave out? Or was it part of a broader scheme to seize Tirfothuinn's unspoiled lands, exploiting its purity for the Sky Cities' gain?
Each possibility had been more horrifying than the last.
I couldn't confirm anything yet. All I could do was wait—wait for Chad to reveal more, or for Lugh to make a move that might expose his plans.
The weight of uncertainty pressed heavily on my chest, but one thing was clear: whatever the Sky Cities Coalition Forces had been planning, it would determine the future of Tirfothuinn—and perhaps my own.