Sincerely, Marlena

20

Sincerely, Marlena.

The camp moved like a living organism, each person with a role, each task contributing to something larger than themselves. It felt almost foreign, this structured sense of duty, where everyone knew their place and what was expected of them. I wasn't used to it—not here, not after being pulled into this fractured world.

I kept my focus on the weapon in my hands, testing the weight, checking the sharpness of the blade. There was comfort in the simplicity of a task, the way physical labor could quiet a mind that was too loud. I barely noticed Lucien's approach until his shadow loomed beside me.

"You've been busy," he said, his voice low, measured. There was always a certain control in his words, as if he held back more than he let on.

I didn't look up, focusing on the task. "I keep my hands occupied. It helps."

"Good," he replied, stepping closer. "We need every able hand for what's coming."

The silence between us stretched out. I could feel his eyes on me, weighing something. Ever since he'd brought me into this camp, I'd felt that silent scrutiny, like he couldn't decide what to make of me. A prisoner? An asset? Something more?

"I know you're not from around here," he said, his tone shifting, careful now. "But you've got skills—useful ones. The way you handled yourself... it's clear you've been through your share of fights."

I glanced up then, meeting his gaze head-on. "I didn't have much of a choice where I came from."

"And where is that, exactly?" Lucien asked, eyes narrowing slightly, like he thought he could push me into an answer.

My grip tightened on the blade, but I kept my face neutral. "Somewhere far from here."

Lucien sighed, frustration flickering in his eyes. "You're still not going to tell me, are you?"

I shrugged, my gaze drifting back to the weapon. "It's not relevant."

A muscle in his jaw tensed, but before he could respond, we heard footsteps approaching. Nolan emerged, his expression tense, his usual sharpness even more pronounced. There was always a crackling energy when the two of them were in the same space, a tension I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"We need to finalize our plan," Nolan said, glancing at Lucien before his eyes shifted to me. His gaze lingered for a second too long, a mix of caution and irritation in his eyes. "Is she ready for this?"

"She'll be ready," Lucien answered before I could. His voice was firm, like he was speaking to convince not just Nolan, but himself.

I stayed quiet, my focus still on the blade in my hand. Whatever tension was brewing between Lucien and Nolan wasn't my business—at least, not yet.

Nolan's gaze hardened as he turned to Lucien. "We can't afford any liabilities."

"Then it's a good thing she's not one," Lucien replied evenly, his voice cool.

There was a beat of silence, a standoff between them. It was subtle, the way they measured each other with words, but it was there. I didn't need to know their history to see it.

Nolan's lips thinned, but he nodded once before turning sharply and walking off, leaving me alone with Lucien again.

"He doesn't trust me," I said quietly, more a statement than a question.

Lucien watched Nolan's retreating figure before he answered. "Nolan doesn't trust many people. But if you do what's asked of you, he'll come around."

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. "And what about you? Do you trust me?"

He hesitated, his expression unreadable for a moment. "I think you're dangerous, but not in the way most people would assume."

Before I could ask what he meant, he stepped away, leaving me with more questions than answers. I looked down at the blade in my hand, my thoughts wandering to my brothers. They had to be looking for me. And yet, part of me wondered if I even wanted them to find me. Not yet, at least.

I wasn't finished here.

Sincerely, Lucien.

As I walked away, I couldn't help but replay my conversation with her in my head. Marlena still kept me at arm's length, always dodging the real questions. She was slippery, and I didn't like that. But I couldn't deny the strange pull I felt when I was around her. It wasn't just her skill or the way she fit into the camp, despite being an outsider. There was something else. Something more dangerous.

She was a distraction. And distractions could get you killed.

Nolan caught up with me, falling into step beside me as we moved toward the main tent. "You're giving her too much leeway."

I clenched my jaw, not in the mood for his warnings. "She's proven herself useful. And if she's going to be here, we might as well make the most of it."

Nolan scoffed. "You're letting her get under your skin."

"I'm thinking about what's best for the camp, not my personal feelings," I said, a little too sharply.

Nolan raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

I said nothing, knowing there was no point arguing with him. He wasn't entirely wrong, though. I was letting her get under my skin—more than I cared to admit. But I needed to keep my head straight. There was no room for mistakes, not with the East Ridge breathing down our necks.

We had a mission to plan. And Marlena? She was still just another piece on the board, no matter how much I hated that truth.