Rain fell steadily over the jungle as if nature itself was mourning something yet to come. Inside the strategy tent, Damon stood silent, arms folded, watching the flicker of flames from the oil lamp beside the old war map. His knuckles whitened around the edge of the table as his eyes traced the familiar terrain. But his thoughts weren't on battle formations.
They were on Kieran.
Ajani entered, shaking off the rain. "He's still at the north post. Smiling. Charming the younger soldiers."
"He's manipulating them. Testing their loyalty."
Ajani gave a slow nod. "He was a soldier once, wasn't he?"
"Briefly. Dishonorably discharged. For disobedience and betrayal."
Ajani's eyes darkened. "And now he walks our grounds again, under our protection."
"No. He walks under mine. And only because Elara asked for time."
A beat passed.
"How long until time runs out, Damon?"
---
Outside, Elara wandered to the training grounds. The sounds of grunts, wooden swords clashing, and barked orders filled the air.
She stopped short when she saw him—Kieran.
Drenched in sweat, shirt half-open, he sparred with one of Damon's soldiers. His strikes were smooth, calculated. Not reckless like she remembered. Sharper. Deadlier.
She approached slowly.
He finished the match and turned to her, panting, grinning. "Elara. I was hoping you'd watch."
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Reminding them I'm still a threat. You never know when loyalty falters in a camp like this."
She frowned. "You're not part of this camp."
He stepped closer. "Maybe not yet. But I could be."
Her chest tightened. "Don't ruin what little good is left in you, Kieran. Please."
His face softened. For a brief moment, he was the boy she once knew.
"You left me to rot in the past. I clawed my way out. Now I want more."
She touched his arm gently. "There's still time to walk away."
He leaned in. "Why walk when I could run… with you?"
She pulled back. "That version of us died years ago."
His smile cracked. Just a little.
"Then let me remind you."
He pressed his lips to hers—rough, sudden, invasive.
A gust of wind slammed into them.
Kieran was on the ground in a flash, blood trickling from his lip. Damon stood above him, eyes wild with fury.
"Touch her again," Damon growled, "and I'll kill you."
Kieran wiped the blood from his mouth and stood. "Ah, the infamous General. Possessive and pretty. You haven't changed."
Damon didn't flinch. "And you're still the coward who uses women to fight battles he can't win."
"I don't need to fight," Kieran hissed. "She's already confused. You feel it."
Damon struck him again.
Ajani ran to restrain them, shoving Kieran back.
"Enough! This isn't the time. The jungle watches, and The Whisperer listens."
Kieran wiped his mouth again, grinning. "I'll be seeing you around, brother."
Damon blinked. "What did you call me?"
Elara froze. "Brother?"
Kieran tilted his head. "Oh? You didn't tell her? Damon and I… we share more than enemies. We share blood."
Ajani cursed under his breath.
Elara's voice shook. "Is it true?"
Damon turned away. "Half-brother. Different mothers. Same father."
Kieran chuckled. "But one of us was abandoned. Forgotten. Cast out. While the other became a golden war god. Tell me, Elara. Who do you think deserves the curse more?"
She whispered, "What curse?"
Kieran grinned.
"The one your precious Damon is hiding. The one that started before you ever came back in time. He's not just a man. He's a weapon. Bound to blood and betrayal. And soon, even you won't be able to save him."
Lightning cracked through the sky.
And for the first time since returning to 1986, Elara truly feared what was coming.