The camp buzzed with activity. Word of Lucian's return spread like wildfire, and with it came a mix of excitement and unease. Some saw him as a beacon of hope, a long-lost leader who could unite the scattered clans. Others, like Darien, remained skeptical, wary of placing their fate in the hands of a relic from the past.
Selene watched from a distance as the vampires began preparing for war—sharpening weapons, reinforcing tents, and whispering among themselves. Despite the tension, there was something new in the air: purpose. Lucian's presence had stirred something dormant in them, and it was hard to ignore.
"You've lit a fire under them," she said as Lucian approached. His dark cloak billowed slightly in the mountain wind, his expression calm yet calculating.
"They were already burning," he replied. "I merely gave them direction." He paused, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the camp. "But fire, uncontrolled, can turn against its wielder."
Selene frowned. "You're talking about Darien."
Lucian inclined his head. "He's a threat, but not because he opposes me. He's dangerous because he hesitates. Hesitation in war breeds death."
"I'll keep an eye on him," Selene offered. "But we need him for now. He commands loyalty from a sizable portion of the camp."
Lucian's expression darkened, but he didn't argue. "Fine. But the moment he becomes a liability, he's yours to deal with."
Before Selene could respond, a figure approached—a young vampire, barely more than a fledgling. He bowed deeply before speaking. "Lord Lucian, Lady Selene, a messenger has arrived. He claims to bear news from Ronan."
Lucian's eyes gleamed with interest. "Bring him to me."
Minutes later, a cloaked figure was led into the center of the camp, surrounded by wary guards. The messenger's face was hidden beneath a hood, but his posture betrayed no fear. He stepped forward and pulled back his hood, revealing pale skin and sharp features. His eyes gleamed with a familiar crimson hue—one that marked him as a servant of Ronan.
"I bring a message from King Ronan," he announced, his voice calm yet carrying an edge of arrogance.
Lucian stepped forward, his presence casting a long shadow over the messenger. "Speak."
The messenger's gaze flicked briefly to Selene before returning to Lucian. "King Ronan offers you a choice: surrender and pledge your loyalty, and you will be spared. Defy him, and you will be crushed beneath his armies."
A murmur spread through the gathered crowd, many exchanging uneasy glances. Selene felt the tension rising, but Lucian remained unmoved.
"Ronan believes he can dictate terms to me?" Lucian's voice was quiet, yet it carried across the camp like a chilling wind. He took a step closer, his crimson eyes glowing faintly. "Tell your master this: Lucian Draven bows to no one. If he wishes to speak with me again, he may do so from his knees—before I end him."
The messenger tensed, but he held his composure. "Very well. You have made your choice." Without waiting for further dismissal, he turned and walked toward the edge of the camp, disappearing into the shadows.
As soon as he was gone, Darien stepped forward, his expression grim. "Ronan knows we're here. It's only a matter of time before he strikes."
"Then we strike first," Lucian said without hesitation. "Gather your forces. We march at nightfall."
Darien's eyes widened in surprise. "You can't be serious. We're not ready for a direct assault. His stronghold is fortified, and his forces far outnumber ours."
Lucian's gaze hardened. "Fear won't save you, Darien. I didn't come here to cower in the mountains. We attack now, while he believes us divided and weak. Catch him off guard, and his numbers won't matter."
Selene stepped between them, her voice measured. "Darien's right about one thing—we can't afford to be reckless. But Lucian has a point. If we wait too long, Ronan will gain the upper hand. We need a strategy."
Lucian's smirk returned. "I have one. But it requires trust." He turned to the gathered leaders. "Tonight, we'll divide into two groups. One will launch a direct assault, drawing Ronan's forces out. The second, led by me, will infiltrate his stronghold and cut off the head of the snake."
Darien crossed his arms. "And if your infiltration fails?"
"It won't," Lucian said coldly. "But if you fear failure, you're welcome to stay behind."
The gathered leaders exchanged uneasy glances, but none voiced further objections. Selene could see the doubt lingering in Darien's eyes, but for now, he held his tongue.
"Fine," Darien said reluctantly. "We'll follow your plan. But if this goes wrong…"
"It won't," Lucian repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Prepare your forces. War begins tonight.