Thorne slipped through one of the hidden entrances of the base, his body moving on instinct through the familiar maze of dark, narrow passageways. The stale air, the faint smell of damp stone—it should have been comforting in its familiarity, but instead, it felt suffocating. He had left Uncle’s mansion only hours ago, and the weight of the day still pressed heavily on him.

  His mind wandered back to his afternoon with Arletta, where he had been subjected to hours of tedious lessons on nobility and etiquette. Names of noble houses, the intricate connections between families, alliances, and petty rivalries—Arletta had been relentless in drilling it all into him. Every time he thought she was done, she had thrown another fact or another lesson at him. By the end of it, his brain felt like mush, and he had barely retained half of what she had said.

  He sighed, thinking of her monotone voice droning on about social etiquette: “Never speak unless spoken to, always defer to higher titles, never display a weapon unless asked.” It was dull, mind-numbing work, but there was no escaping it. His life had been decided for him once again—Uncle’s heir, his ticket into high society.

  The thought made him grind his teeth. He didn’t belong there, he liked what he had become, a sharp blade hiding in the shadows. But that didn’t matter. Uncle’s word was law.

  He pushed the thoughts aside as he stepped deeper into the base, his mind refocusing on the present. As much as he hated to admit it, he had missed the dark corners of this place. But the base was no longer his home. Uncle’s world awaited him now. Still, there was one person he needed to see—Rielle.

  As he turned down a narrow hallway, he was greeted by an all-too-familiar voice. Rafe.

  “Well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Rafe drawled, leaning lazily against the wall. His arms were crossed, and his face was twisted into a smirk that Thorne wanted to wipe away with a single punch.

  Thorne bit down on his irritation, knowing exactly where this was headed. He had neither the time nor the patience for Rafe's obnoxious games.

  “Got tired of playing noble already?” Rafe continued, pushing off the wall to stand in front of him. “Or did your new status finally get boring?”

  “Not now, Rafe,” Thorne muttered, trying to move past him.

  But Rafe sidestepped, blocking his way. “Oh, come on, Master Thorne,” he said, dragging out the word “master” with exaggerated sarcasm. “You’re practically royalty now, aren’t you? Must feel good—being Uncle’s golden boy.”

  Thorne’s fists clenched at his sides, but he kept his voice low. “What do you want?”

  Rafe’s smirk widened. “What I want? Nothing. Just wondering how it feels to leave the rest of us behind while you play noble assassin. Must be nice.”

  “You don’t know anything about it,” Thorne shot back, his patience wearing thin.

  “Oh, I think I do.” Rafe’s eyes glittered. “You’ve always thought you were better than the rest of us. And now, you get to prove it, don’t you? I mean, come on—Uncle’s heir? You must be thrilled.”

  Thorne stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m not in the mood for this, Rafe.”

  But Rafe was relentless. “No, I bet you’re not. But just so you know—you’re not fooling anyone down here. You’re not one of us anymore. You’re just... Uncle’s pawn.”

  Thorne’s jaw tightened as Rafe’s words hit a little too close to home. He didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. His silence was answer enough.

  Rafe gave a mocking laugh before brushing past Thorne, his shoulder bumping him roughly. “Good luck with that new life, Thorne. You’re going to need it.”

  *

  Thorne found himself walking deeper into the base, his thoughts still swirling from the encounter with Rafe. He needed to find Rielle, needed to ground himself in something—someone—familiar. But as he neared the training hall, the sound of voices made him stop.

  Rielle.

  She wasn’t alone. Thorne ducked into the shadows, his heart sinking as he saw her standing with Marcus, their conversation hushed but intense. Marcus looked... agitated, his body language tense. Thorne couldn’t make out everything they were saying, but he heard enough to stir the suspicion gnawing at his gut.

  Not another one.

  Not another betrayal.

  Rielle seemed to be comforting Marcus, her hand resting on his arm as she spoke softly. Thorne’s chest tightened, the familiar ache of betrayal creeping in. He had seen this before—the quiet conversations, the secret meetings. He didn’t want to believe it, but Rhea and Corwin had shattered any trust he had left.

  Marcus’s voice rose, his frustration clear. “This isn’t right, Rielle! You know it’s not!”

  Rielle stepped closer to him, her voice calming but firm. “Just trust me. It’s complicated.”

  Thorne’s hands balled into fists as he watched. Of all people... Marcus? The guy that was antagonizing him from the very first day in the guild? If Rielle wanted to spite him she couldn’t have made a better choice. Well... Except maybe for Rafe.

  Rielle pulled Marcus into a hug before the young man nodded stiffly and walked away, his expression still stormy. Thorne remained in the shadows, his blood boiling.

  When Marcus was gone, Thorne stepped out, his voice cold. “What was that?”

  Rielle whirled around, her eyes widening for a moment before narrowing. “What are you doing here?”

  Thorne’s voice hardened. “I could ask you the same thing. What was that? What were you talking about with Marcus?”

  Rielle crossed her arms, her expression darkening. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

  Thorne’s anger flared. “Really? Because it sure looked like you were sneaking around, meeting him in secret while I was gone.”

  Rielle’s eyes flashed. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Thorne. You’re not my keeper.”

  “Oh, but you’re fine sneaking around with that idiot Marcus?” Thorne spat, his words laced with venom. “Of all the people, him? I thought you had better taste.”

  Rielle’s face flushed with anger. “How dare you?”

  “Don’t try to deny it. I’ve seen this before. You’re just like the rest of them,” Thorne said, his voice rising. “While I’m away, you’re plotting behind my back with him.”

  Rielle’s fists clenched, her voice shaking with fury. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I don’t?” Thorne shot back, stepping closer. “I know betrayal when I see it.”

  Rielle’s eyes were blazing now, her voice low and sharp. “You think I’m cheating on you? With Marcus? That’s what you believe?”

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  Thorne’s jaw tightened. “What else am I supposed to think?”

  Rielle’s voice trembled with rage. “You’re a fool, Thorne. Not everything is about you. Not every conversation is some grand conspiracy against you.”

  Thorne glared at her, the bitterness rising like bile in his throat. “I trusted you.”

  Rielle’s expression softened for just a moment, but her voice remained firm. “Trust goes both ways. But you’re too caught up in your own paranoia to see that.”

  Before Thorne could respond, Rielle turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving him standing in the hallway, the bitterness and doubt twisting inside him like a knife.

  His mind was still buzzing with frustration as he made his way to the sleeping quarters. His conversation with Rielle played over and over in his head, but the doubt gnawed at him. After Rhea, after everything, he didn’t know who to trust anymore.

  Thorne stepped into the sleeping quarters, his gaze immediately landing on Vance and Rhea. They sat together, speaking in hushed voices, their expressions calm—too calm. As if they weren’t the ones who had plotted his death. As if they weren’t the reason he had nearly bled out in the dirt.

  A sharp, visceral desire clawed at his chest. He wanted—gods, how he wanted—to drive his dagger into Vance’s eye, to watch the smug bastard twitch and spasm as the life drained from him. To carve open Rhea’s throat and listen as her gasps turned wet and gurgling. His fingers itched for the kill, his body practically vibrating with the need to end them right here, right now.

  But he didn’t move. Didn’t react. Instead, he forced the rage down, buried it beneath layers of practiced control. His expression was empty, his posture loose, betraying nothing. Not yet. Not until he knew everything.

  There was someone else—someone pulling the strings from the shadows. He was certain of it. When he had overheard Rhea whispering in the dark corridors of the base, there had been another voice with her. Not Vance. Not Corwin. Someone else. Someone careful.

  He would find them. He would unravel every thread of their treachery. And when the time was right...

  They would all die. By his hand.

  Vance looked up and greeted him with a warm smile.

  “Thorne! Good to see you. How’ve you been?” Vance asked, his tone casual, as if they were still the friends they once were.

  Thorne forced a small smile. “I’ve been fine.”

  Vance leaned back, a grin tugging at his lips. “Life treating you well, Master Thorne?” The mock title dripped from his tongue.

  Before Thorne could respond, the door banged open. Rielle stormed in, her face set with determination.

  “We need to talk,” she demanded, her eyes locked on Thorne.

  The room went silent, and a few of the recruits began snickering. Thorne could feel their eyes on him, their whispers buzzing in the background.

  Vance raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Looks like someone's in trouble," he teased.

  Thorne sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to make a scene, especially with the other recruits watching, their eyes gleaming with amusement.

  “Not now, Rielle,” Thorne muttered, glancing at the snickering recruits. The last thing he needed was to provide more entertainment for them.

  But Rielle wasn’t backing down. “I’m not asking,” she said, her voice firm as she grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the door.

  The other recruits erupted in laughter, a few jeers following them as they left the room.

  “Thorne and his girlfriend, having a spat?” one of the recruits called after them, causing another round of snickers.

  Thorne let Rielle drag him out into the hallway, his mind still spinning from their earlier argument. He didn’t want to have this conversation, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it forever. As soon as they were outside, Rielle spun around to face him, her eyes blazing with frustration.

  “You don’t get to accuse me of things you don’t understand, Thorne,” she snapped, her voice trembling with barely-contained anger.

  Thorne crossed his arms, his own temper still simmering just beneath the surface. “Then explain it to me. Why were you meeting with Marcus? What’s going on?”

  Rielle’s expression softened for a brief moment, but the anger remained in her voice. “I told you before—you don’t know everything that’s happening. And not everything is about you.”

  Thorne shook his head, his thoughts clouded by suspicion and frustration. “So, what then? You’re just hanging around with Marcus while I’m gone, hoping I won’t notice? You think I wouldn’t find out?”

  Rielle’s eyes flashed. “You’re paranoid, Thorne. Do you really think so little of me?”

  Thorne’s jaw clenched. “What else am I supposed to think, Rielle? After everything that’s happened what am I supposed to believe?”

  Rielle took a deep breath, clearly trying to steady herself. “You’re supposed to believe in me. But instead, you’re letting your paranoia twist everything.”

  Thorne’s chest tightened at her words, but he remained silent, the doubt still gnawing at him.

  Rielle shook her head, her voice softer now. “I’m not your enemy, Thorne. And I’m not betraying you.”

  Rielle stood there, her face flushed with frustration and anger. Thorne's accusation hung heavily between them, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The tension was thick, almost suffocating, but when Rielle finally looked at Thorne—really looked at him—she seemed to falter. The anger in her eyes softened, replaced by something else. Something that looked almost like... guilt.

  “Thorne,” she said quietly, her voice trembling just a little. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Thorne didn’t respond, his arms still crossed, his face hard. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear whatever excuse she was about to offer, but he kept his eyes on her, waiting.

  Rielle sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Marcus... he’s my brother.”

  Thorne blinked, the words catching him off guard. “What?”

  “We’re siblings,” Rielle repeated, her voice low. “No one knows. Not even the guild. Only Sera knows and that’s because we all grew up together in the grey quarter.”

  Thorne’s mind raced as he processed what she had just said. Marcus? Her brother? It didn’t make sense. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Rielle’s expression tightened. “We decided to keep it hidden when we first got here. We thought it was safer. If people knew we were related, they could use it against us—against me.”

  Thorne took a step back, his head spinning. “So... all this time. You and Marcus. You’ve been hiding that from me?”

  Rielle nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “Yes.”

  For a moment, Thorne stood frozen, his mind trying to make sense of everything. He should have felt relieved, right? This explained everything—why she was meeting Marcus, why they were so close. But instead, all he felt was... betrayed.

  All these years. All the time they had spent together, all the secrets they had shared, the things they had confided in one another. And she hadn’t told him. She had never trusted him enough to tell him the truth.

  “If I hadn’t seen you together today...” Thorne’s voice was quieter now, tinged with bitterness. “You would’ve kept this from me. You would’ve kept lying.”

  Rielle’s eyes flickered with regret, but she didn’t deny it.

  Thorne shook his head, his chest tight. “All this time, Rielle. After everything we’ve been through... You never thought I deserved to know?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Rielle insisted, stepping toward him. “I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t safe.”

  “Safe?” Thorne scoffed, the bitterness creeping into his voice. “You think I would’ve used it against you?”

  Rielle shook her head. “No, of course not. But—”

  “Then why keep it from me?” Thorne cut her off, his voice rising with anger. “We’ve been through hell together. I trusted you. I thought we were... I thought we meant something to each other.”

  “We do,” Rielle said desperately. “That’s why I’m telling you now.”

  “Now?” Thorne’s laugh was hollow. “You’re telling me now because you got caught.”

  Rielle’s face tightened. “It wasn’t like that, Thorne. I was trying to protect him.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you were,” Thorne snapped. “And while you were at it, you convinced him to stop antagonizing me, right?”

  Rielle looked startled, but she nodded. “Yes, I talked to him. I told him it wasn’t worth making enemies with you.”

  Thorne’s eyes narrowed, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Oh, I see. And here I was thinking Marcus had finally grown up, finally got some sense into him. But no, it was his dear sister advising him not to make enemies with important people.”

  Rielle’s eyes flashed with anger, her hands balling into fists. “I confided something personal in you, and you’re mocking me?”

  Thorne’s face hardened, his temper flaring. “You’ve had years to tell me the truth. All those nights we spent together, alone, whispering to each other in the dark, trying to make sense of the mess we were in. You could’ve told me anytime. But you didn’t.”

  “I was trying to keep us both safe!” Rielle shot back, her voice trembling with frustration.

  “And what about all those times I asked you where you were going when you sneaked away from the base?” Thorne’s voice grew sharper. “You always had some excuse, always told me it wasn’t my concern. But all along, you were meeting him. Your brother.”

  Rielle stared at him, her face twisted with guilt and frustration, but she said nothing.

  Thorne’s mind churned, his emotions spiraling. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. They all twisted inside him, pulling him in different directions, threatening to tear him apart. He had trusted her—more than anyone else in this cursed place. And she had lied to him, kept secrets from him. After everything they had been through together, how could she still keep him in the dark?

  Rielle took a step closer, her voice softer now. “Thorne... I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I know that. But I thought—”

  Thorne didn’t want to hear it. His chest felt tight, his mind spinning. The weight of everything—the lies, the betrayals, the constant feeling of being used—crushed down on him. And in that moment, something inside him... shut off.

  He felt the familiar coldness wash over him, the Mask of Deceit falling effortlessly into place. His face became a blank slate, his expression smooth and unreadable. All the turmoil inside him was buried, hidden beneath the surface.

  “I’m done,” he said, his voice eerily calm, devoid of emotion.

  Rielle’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “I’m done,” Thorne repeated, his tone cold, final.

  Before Rielle could say anything else, before she could try to explain further or offer more excuses, Thorne turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, alone in the dim hallway.

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