The Calm Before the Storm
The Rustyard was theirs.
Jarek stood atop a wooden balcony, watching the gang members settle in. Some looted Caden's abandoned supply caches, while others secured entrances to keep watch.
Tobias plopped down on a crate, exhaling loudly. "Okay. We survived. That's a win, right?"
Jarek grunted. "For now."
Sylva crossed her arms. "Caden won't ignore this. He'll be back—with more men and a real plan."
Bran nodded. "And when he does, we won't be able to hold this place with a few knives and good luck."
Jarek frowned. "Then we need to be smarter. Stronger."
Bran hesitated. "That's easier said than done. We've got maybe fifty fighters—half of them are just thugs. Caden? He has connections. Trained killers. Mercenaries."
Jarek knew that already.
They'd made their move.
Now, the war truly began.
A Sudden Arrival
Before Jarek could speak, a loud whistle rang out.
One of their sentries shouted from the rooftop.
"Riders! Three of them! Headed straight for us!"
Jarek snapped to attention. Here we go.
Bran and Tobias rushed to the entrance as Jarek and Sylva followed.
Dust kicked up as three men on horseback rode into the Rustyard.
The lead rider—a man clad in black leather with a silver insignia on his chest—pulled back his hood, revealing a scarred face and cold, calculating eyes.
"Jarek Thorn," he called. "We need to talk."
Jarek stepped forward. "And you are?"
The man dismounted. "Cassian Rook. Caden's lieutenant."
Sylva's hand went to her sword, but Jarek raised a hand. Not yet.
Cassian smirked. "Relax. If we wanted blood, we wouldn't have come with just three men."
Tobias muttered, "Still wouldn't mind testing that theory."
Jarek ignored him. "What does Caden want?"
Cassian's smirk widened. "Caden? Nothing. I came on my own."
That got Jarek's attention.
Cassian's voice lowered. "You made a move no one expected, Thorn. Taking the Rustyard? Bold. But bold moves come with consequences."
Jarek's eyes narrowed. "You saying I should be afraid?"
Cassian chuckled. "Not at all. I'm saying I'm impressed."
Bran scoffed. "Cut the games, Rook. You work for Caden."
Cassian tilted his head. "For now."
Jarek caught the implication immediately. "You're looking for a new leader."
Cassian grinned. "I'm looking for someone who actually knows how to win. Caden? He's grown too comfortable. He plays by the old rules. But you? You break them."
Jarek studied him.
If Cassian was serious, this could be a major shift.
"Say I believe you," Jarek said. "What do you bring to the table?"
Cassian spread his arms. "Weapons. Contacts. Fighters. Caden's men trust me. If I were to… switch sides, many would follow."
Tobias whistled. "That's one hell of an offer."
Jarek wasn't convinced. "And what do you want in return?"
Cassian's grin faded. "Caden dead."
The Offer of Betrayal
Jarek wasn't surprised.
Cassian was ambitious—Caden's rule held him back.
If he switched sides, Caden wouldn't just lose men. He'd lose control.
Sylva's voice was quiet. "It's a trap."
Cassian smirked. "You're paranoid."
Sylva's eyes were cold. "And you're a snake. Even if you do betray Caden, how long before you betray Jarek?"
Cassian chuckled. "That depends on whether Jarek is worth following."
Jarek exhaled slowly.
If he accepted Cassian's help, he'd gain power fast—but at a risk.
If he refused?
Caden would keep his strongest lieutenant.
A choice had to be made.
Jarek's answer was simple.
"You work for me now."
Cassian grinned.
Sylva sighed. "You're insane."
Tobias patted Jarek's shoulder. "Oh, we know."
A Plan for War
With Cassian's help, they moved fast.
• His men slipped messages to Caden's enforcers, offering them a new boss.
• Jarek tightened security around the Rustyard.
• Sylva scouted Caden's movements, tracking how he planned to respond.
Days passed.
Caden was quiet.
Too quiet.
Bran frowned. "Why hasn't he struck yet?"
Cassian smirked. "Because he's not an idiot. He's waiting. Watching. Preparing."
Jarek nodded.
"Then we don't wait."
Tobias grinned. "We're hitting first, aren't we?"
Jarek smiled
"Damn right."
The First Assassination Attempt
That night, trouble came looking for them.
Jarek barely had time to react when a blade flashed through the dark.
He ducked—just as a dagger missed his throat by inches.
Two figures lunged from the shadows, clad in black hoods and silent footsteps.
Assassins.
Jarek rolled back, kicking one away as Sylva's sword clashed against the other's dagger.
Tobias shouted, grabbing a chair and swinging it into an attacker's ribs.
Bran rushed in, tackling another.
The fight was brutal and fast.
Jarek slammed an elbow into his opponent's jaw, grabbing his wrist and snapping it back—a sickening crack filling the air.
Sylva parried a strike before driving her blade deep into her attacker's side.
Within moments, it was over.
Blood stained the wooden floor.
Cassian knelt beside one of the bodies, ripping off the assassin's hood.
"Recognize him?" Jarek asked.
Cassian frowned. "Not one of Caden's usual men."
Jarek clenched his fists.
Someone else was watching.
The Bigger Threat
They gathered in the Rustyard's central hall, weighing their next move.
Cassian leaned against the wall. "Caden wouldn't send assassins yet. Not like this."
Sylva's eyes darkened. "Then who did?"
Bran exhaled. "We have more enemies than we thought."
Jarek rolled his shoulders. "Then we keep pushing forward. We can't stop now."
Tobias groaned. "You say that like we ever had a choice."
Jarek smirked. "We didn't."
The war was just beginning.
And Jarek?
He was ready for it.