The night stretched long and quiet, but inside Leila, a storm raged. Sleep evaded her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jace's smirk, Ellie's cold stare—the weight of their betrayal pressing down on her chest like a heavy stone. They had stolen from her, from all of them. Lied. Manipulated. Left her for dead when she refused to kneel to them.
She sat by the fire, her fingers wrapped around a small twig, snapping it apart piece by piece, watching as the broken fragments tumbled into the dirt. The flames flickered, their warmth licking at her skin, but she felt none of it. Only the cold, calculating fury that burned inside her.
She had been foolish once—trusting, naive. But not anymore.
They thought they had won.
They were about to learn what it felt like to lose.
Kai sat across from her, his face illuminated by the shifting glow of the fire. His sharp eyes studied her, his posture deceptively relaxed, though Leila knew better. He was always watching, always assessing.
"We have to be smart about this," Kai said, his voice low. His fingers toyed with the hilt of his knife, the silver blade catching the firelight. "Jace and Ellie aren't going to sit back and let you take them down. They'll see it coming."
Leila met his gaze, unwavering. She knew the risks. She knew exactly what Jace and Ellie were capable of. But that was the difference now—she wasn't going to attack them head-on. That's what they'd expect. That's how they'd want to play the game.
She wasn't playing.
She was ending this.
"I'm not going to fight them," she murmured, rolling the last broken twig between her fingers. "I'm going to make them crumble."
Kai smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Now that I'd like to see."
She glanced toward the darkened treeline, where shadows stretched long beneath the moon. Somewhere out there, Mark, Darren, and Fiona were already moving. Setting things in motion.
This wasn't about brute force. It was about precision.
Jace and Ellie had built their power on control—over resources, over people, over fear. So Leila was going to strip that away, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.
They wouldn't even see it coming.
Jace and Ellie had taken over one of the strongest structures near the river—a fortified shelter, reinforced with stolen supplies and weapons they had hoarded for themselves. It was their stronghold, their safe haven.
Leila was going to take it from them.
Under the cover of darkness, Mark and Darren moved like shadows through the trees, their footsteps silent against the damp earth. Fiona waited on the ridge above, her watchful eyes scanning the area for any movement. If anything went wrong, she'd signal.
Leila and Kai followed at a distance, keeping low, their breath steady despite the cold air biting at their skin.
The plan was simple. The shelter's supports were already weakened in places—Jace and Ellie had fortified the walls, but the foundation itself was unsteady. It wouldn't take much to push it past its breaking point.
Darren worked quickly, loosening key wooden beams, careful to make it look like wear and tear, not sabotage. Mark spread oil along the weakest joints—not to burn it down, but to weaken the wood, make it soft enough that the next strong storm or heavy rain would send the whole thing collapsing in on itself.
Leila stood back, watching as her people worked, her heart pounding slow and steady in her chest.
By the time they returned to camp, the trap was set.
All they had to do was wait.
Jace and Ellie's power didn't just come from strength—it came from control. They had stockpiles of food, weapons, supplies. Enough to keep themselves comfortable while the rest of the survivors scavenged for scraps.
Leila was going to make sure they lost it all.
She knew where their hidden caches were.
Jace had never been subtle about hiding things, even when they had all been on the same side. He relied on secrecy, on the idea that no one would dare cross him.
That was his mistake.
This time, Fiona and Darren took the lead, slipping through the woods under the cover of fog. They moved fast, silent, taking what they could carry and scattering the rest—making it look like scavengers had ransacked the place, leaving nothing behind but broken crates and overturned bags.
By morning, Jace and Ellie would wake up to empty stockpiles.
No food. No weapons. No safety net.
Leila wasn't just taking what was theirs—she was making sure they knew what it felt like to lose everything.
Jace and Ellie had thrived on fear, twisting people's desperation into loyalty. But without shelter, without supplies, without control, that loyalty would start to waver.
Leila didn't need to lie. She didn't need to force anyone's hand.
She just needed to let the truth spread.
"They take what they want," she murmured to the others, her voice low but firm. "They hoard supplies while the rest of us starve. They steal, they manipulate, and they'll throw anyone away if it benefits them."
People listened.
People started to see.
It began with whispers—doubt creeping in where once there had been certainty. A glance here, a murmured conversation there. The cracks in Jace and Ellie's hold over the group started to form.
And Leila made sure those cracks kept growing.
The sky darkened. The first roll of thunder rumbled across the horizon, shaking the ground beneath their feet.
Leila stood at the edge of camp, watching as the wind howled through the trees, rain coming down in sharp, cold sheets. She felt Kai step up beside her, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Then, a deafening crash split through the night.
Jace and Ellie's shelter—what was left of it—collapsed in on itself. The weakened beams snapped, the walls crumbling like sand beneath the storm's force.
Their shouts echoed through the darkness—confusion, panic, desperation.
Leila watched, unmoving.
She had given them time. She had given them the chance to walk away.
They had chosen war.
Kai let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Damn," he muttered. "That was brutal."
Leila exhaled slowly, rain dripping down her face, mixing with the heat of her own breath.
"They're only just starting to feel it," she said, voice steady. "This is just the beginning."