The moon hung low in the night sky, casting its pale light over the fortress. Alison lay on the hard cot in her room, her body aching from the day's training. Despite her exhaustion, sleep refused to come. Her mind churned with thoughts of the hunters, Kane's cryptic warnings, and the constant shadow of danger that seemed to loom over everything.
A faint sound broke the silence—a shuffle, barely audible but enough to jolt her upright. She strained her ears, her heartbeat quickening as the sound came again, closer this time. Someone was outside her door.
Alison slid off the cot, her bare feet pressing against the cold stone floor. She reached for the wooden staff leaning against the wall, gripping it tightly as she crept toward the door. Her breath caught as the handle turned slowly, the door creaking open.
A figure stepped inside, cloaked in shadow. Before Alison could react, the intruder lunged. She swung the staff instinctively, the wood connecting with a satisfying crack against their arm. The figure grunted, stumbling back, and Alison seized the moment to dart toward the door.
"Stop," the intruder hissed, their voice low but familiar. "It's me."
Alison froze, her chest heaving. The faint light from the hallway revealed the intruder's face—Darius. His golden eyes glinted with annoyance as he rubbed his arm where the staff had struck him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Alison demanded, still holding the staff defensively. "Were you trying to scare me to death?"
Darius smirked, though there was no humor in it. "If I wanted to scare you, you'd know it."
"Great. Thanks for the reassurance," Alison said, lowering the staff slightly but not relaxing. "What do you want?"
Darius stepped closer, his expression turning serious. "I came to warn you."
"Warn me?" Alison asked, her brow furrowing. "About what?"
"Kane," Darius said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's not who you think he is."
Alison frowned, her grip tightening on the staff. "And who do you think I think he is? The guy who kidnapped me and keeps acting like he owns me?"
Darius's smirk returned briefly before fading. "You're not wrong. But it's worse than that. Kane isn't protecting you out of the goodness of his heart. He's using you."
"For what?" Alison asked, her voice sharp.
Darius hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the hallway as if checking for eavesdroppers. "The prophecy," he said finally. "You're the key, remember? But do you know what that really means?"
Alison stared at him, her stomach twisting. "He said I'm the last of the white tigers. That I have some kind of power. But no one seems interested in explaining what any of that actually means."
"That's because they don't want you to know," Darius said, his tone growing urgent. "The power you have—it's not just some gift. It's dangerous. Uncontrollable. And Kane thinks he can use it to tip the balance of power in his favor."
"And what's your role in all of this?" Alison asked, her voice laced with suspicion. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I don't trust him," Darius said bluntly. "And neither should you."
Alison crossed her arms, the staff still held loosely in one hand. "So you're what? The good guy in all of this? Trying to save me from the big bad wolf?"
Darius chuckled, though it was devoid of warmth. "There are no good guys here, Alison. But there are worse evils. And Kane… he's one of them."
The weight of his words settled over Alison like a heavy blanket, suffocating and relentless. She wanted to dismiss him, to tell him he was wrong. But a part of her couldn't ignore the doubt that had been growing in her mind since the moment she arrived.
"What do you expect me to do?" she asked finally, her voice quieter.
"Stay vigilant," Darius said. "And when the time comes, don't trust him. Trust yourself."
Before Alison could respond, Darius turned and slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him. She stood there for a long moment, her mind racing. Everything he'd said clashed with the glimpses of Kane she'd seen—the moments of unexpected kindness, the rare flashes of vulnerability. But then again, she barely knew him.
The next morning, Alison stood in the courtyard once more, the early light casting long shadows across the stone ground. Kane was already there, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as he watched her approach.
"Ready?" he asked.
Alison nodded, though her mind was still clouded with the memory of Darius's warning. She gripped the staff tightly as Kane stepped forward, his gaze locking onto hers.
"You're holding back," he said after a moment, his tone almost accusing.
"I'm not," Alison replied, her voice steady.
"You are," Kane insisted, his eyes narrowing. "You're afraid."
Alison's jaw tightened. "Maybe I have a reason to be."
Kane tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Fear is useful. It keeps you alive. But if you let it control you, it'll kill you."
Alison didn't respond. Instead, she adjusted her stance and raised the staff. Kane stepped back, motioning for Lyra to take his place. The sparring resumed, but Alison's thoughts were elsewhere.
Don't trust him.
Darius's words echoed in her mind as Lyra attacked, her movements quick and precise. Alison blocked and countered, her muscles moving on instinct. But her focus was fractured, her mind split between the fight and the storm of doubts swirling within her.
By the time the session ended, Alison's body was aching, and her mind was no closer to clarity. She caught Kane watching her from the edge of the courtyard, his expression thoughtful.
"Good work today," he said as she approached.
Alison forced a nod, her grip tightening on the staff. "Thanks."
But as she walked away, her heart heavy with unease, she couldn't shake the feeling that the real fight was just beginning.