Page 19 of Owned

Whispers rose like a tide—a swell of fear and uncertainty that threatened to drown the room.

“Traitors,” someone hissed. “Traitors in our midst—”

“Who else?” another voice demanded, its question crackled with paranoia.

I stepped back, my eyes fixed on Lucian. He remained seated, his posture relaxed, his expression one of serene detachment. I realized with a jolt that this was what he wanted: to sow chaos and watch it fester, pitting them against one another in a desperate scramble for survival.

His eyes closed briefly, as if savoring the disorder he’d unleashed.

This is what I hated most about him.

The tests.

Everything was a test.

How was I supposed to anticipate this kind of madness?

“There are traitors in our midst,” Lucian intoned. “Rot where it does not belong. How are we to flourish when our foundation is crumbling?”

The room was silent.

Terrified.

Lucian rose from his chair, and the sound of the wooden legs as they scraped over the stones echoed loudly in my ears.

He looked at each member of the Council while the red smoke of his magic coiled sinuously up his arms like shadowy snakes as he walked around the table.

He stepped in the dead man’s blood without looking down at the corpse, and bloody prints followed him as he stalked through the chamber.

“Treachery. Lies. Deceit.”

His voice was calm and quiet, but it echoed like thunder in the space and I watched several members of the Council flinch and recoil as he passed them.

“I expect you to root out this…weakness.”

The word dripped with venom and among his followers there were nods and murmurs of agreement. Promises. Their voices overlapped in a panicked chorus—some swearing loyalty, others vowing vengeance against the unnamed traitors.

Valen rubbed at the blood on his cheek as if trying to scrub away the shame of our failure. Bastian wiped the blood from his knife on the corpse’s cloak and stood. A wicked light glittered in his eyes as he tucked the knife back into its sheath with a casual flick of his wrist. “Takes all the fun out of it,” he muttered.

I tore my gaze from Lucian’s retreating form and forced myself to focus on damage control. We could not afford to look weak after such a display; our power came from fear and certainty. They had to be convinced that we knew what we were doing.

“My father’s command will not be ignored,” I exclaimed. “Seek out these traitors to the Necromi cause… you will bring them to us to face justice.”

Murmured voices rose in agreement once more, but I could taste suspicion in the air like acid. They watched me with wary eyes, and I knew some were already questioning how much we knew. How far our own loyalties stretched.

I felt Valen at my side. “This is bad, Titus.”

I kept my voice low enough that no one else would hear. “I noticed.”

Valen nodded toward Lucian’s retreating figure. “You think he really doesn’t know—”

I didn’t answer.

Bastian joined us, his mouth curled into a scornful twist. “Let them tear each other apart.”

“We need to move quickly.” I turned to catch the eye of several Necromi who flinched and turned away under my gaze.

Valen frowned. “Where do we even start?”

---