Humming in the sanctuary grew strained, mirroring a machine pushed to its limit. Lila stood in the training room, her breath steady but her muscles taut, shadows swirling around her in a controlled dance. Ethan circled her, his eyes sharp, calling out commands. "Focus, Lila. Tighten the shape. Don't let it waver." She nodded, her mind locked on the sphere of shadow hovering before her, its edges smooth but trembling under the effort. Two days of relentless training had sharpened her control, but the sigil from the courtyard and Darian's cold warning gnawed at her focus.
"Enough," Ethan said, stopping. He wiped sweat from his brow, his leather jacket discarded on a nearby mat. "You're getting there, but you're distracted. What's going on?"
Lila let the sphere dissolve, her shadows retreating to the floor. She hesitated, the weight of Darian's visit still heavy. "My brother," she said finally, her voice low. "He knows about the Veil, about me chasing them. He said the council's using me. I can't shake it."
Ethan's jaw tightened, but his tone stayed even. "He's trying to get in your head. The council's good at that—twisting truth to keep you scared. You're not their pawn, Lila. Not anymore."
She wanted to believe him. His steadiness, his quiet strength, had become an anchor in the chaos of the sanctuary. Over the past days, their training sessions had forged a fragile bond—moments of shared exhaustion, fleeting glances that lingered too long. But trust was a tightrope, and Lila's balance was shaky. "I know," she said, forcing a nod. "Let's keep going."
Before Ethan could respond, Maya burst into the room, her face pale, her tablet clutched tightly. "We've got a problem," she said, her usual spark dimmed. "Big one."
Lila's stomach dropped. She followed Maya and Ethan to the main chamber, where the other sanctuary members gathered, their faces tense. Maya plugged her tablet into a monitor, pulling up a stream of data—encrypted messages, timestamps, and location pings. "I've been tracking council chatter," she said, her voice clipped. "They've got eyes on us. Someone's been feeding them our moves—every site we've checked, every lead on the Veil."
A murmur rippled through the group, suspicion darkening their eyes. Lila's shadows stirred, reacting to the tension. "A mole?" she asked, her voice sharp. "Here?"
Maya nodded, her lips a thin line. "The data doesn't lie. Someone's been slipping the council our plans, real-time. That's how Darian found us so fast. And it's why the Veil's always one step ahead."
Ethan's hand clenched into a fist, his voice low and dangerous. "Who?"
"I don't know yet," Maya said, frustration bleeding through. "The transmissions are encrypted, routed through dummy servers. But they're coming from inside the sanctuary. I'm close to cracking the source, but we need to lock this place down. No one leaves until we find them."
The room erupted into low, angry voices—accusations, denials, fear. Lila's gaze swept the group: the woman with the buzz cut who'd bandaged her arm, the man with tattoos who handled explosives, the quiet shifter who rarely spoke. Any of them could be the traitor, and the thought made her skin crawl. The sanctuary was supposed to be safe, a refuge from the council's reach, but now it felt like a trap.
Ethan raised a hand, silencing the group. "No one jumps to conclusions," he said, his voice cutting through the noise. "We trust Maya to find the truth. Until then, we double security, tighten comms, and keep our heads down. The Veil's still out there, and the council's closing in. We don't have time for infighting."
His words steadied the room, but Lila saw the strain in his eyes, the weight of leadership in a moment of fracture. She stepped closer to him, her voice low. "What if the mole's working with the Veil? Darian said they're hunting Shadowborn. If they know I'm here—"
"Then we protect you," Ethan said, his gaze locking onto hers. There was something in his eyes—fierce, unguarded—that made her heart skip. "You're not alone in this, Lila. I've got your back."
The moment stretched, charged with unspoken things. Lila felt the pull of him, the warmth of his presence, but doubt crept in. She'd trusted Darian once, her own blood, and he'd chosen the council. Ethan was different, but trust was a risk she wasn't sure she could take. She nodded, stepping back, her shadows curling tightly around her. "Thanks," she said, her voice softer than she meant.
That night, the sanctuary was quiet, its members confined to quarters while Maya worked. Lila couldn't sleep, her bunk too small, her thoughts too loud. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her shadows forming fleeting shapes—a bird, a tree, a face—before dissolving. Training had given her control, but it hadn't eased the fear that her powers were a beacon, drawing the Veil and the council closer.
A soft knock broke her focus. Ethan stood in the doorway, his jacket slung over one shoulder, his face shadowed. "Can't sleep either?" he asked, leaning against the frame.
Lila shook her head, her shadows stilling. "Too much noise in my head. You?"
"Same." He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The small room felt smaller with him in it, his presence filling the space. "I wanted to check on you. After Darian, the mole… it's a lot."
She studied him, searching for a crack in his resolve, a reason to pull back. "Why do you do this?" she asked, her voice low. "Risk everything for people like me? You said you've lost people to the council. Who were they?"
Ethan's expression tightened, his eyes distant. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. Then he sat on the bunk across from her, his voice quiet. "My sister," he said. "Clara. She was like you—not Shadowborn, but gifted. Telekinetic. The council wanted her, said they'd train her, make her strong. She believed them. I didn't. They took her, and a year later, she was gone. Experiments, they called it. I found her too late."
The rawness in his voice cut through Lila's defenses. She saw the pain in his eyes, the guilt he carried like a scar. "I'm sorry," she said, meaning it. "That's why you fight them."
He nodded, his jaw tight. "I couldn't save her, but I can save others. You, Lila—you're not just a job. I see you, what you're fighting for. I want you to win."
Her throat tightened, the walls she'd built trembling. She wanted to reach for him, to close the distance, but fear held her back. Trust was a blade, sharp and double-edged. Instead, she said, "I want to win too. But I don't know if I can trust anyone. Not after Darian."
Ethan leaned forward, his eyes steady. "You don't have to trust me completely. Just enough to let me help. We're stronger together."
The air between them crackled, heavy with possibility. Lila's shadows stirred, forming a fleeting bridge between them before fading. She nodded, a small surrender. "Okay," she said. "Together."
The next morning, Maya's shout jolted the sanctuary awake. Lila and Ethan rushed to the main chamber, where Maya stood, her face a mix of triumph and fury. "I found it," she said, her tablet displaying a decrypted message. "The mole's been sending pings to a council server. It's coming from… the armory."
The group turned as one, eyes narrowing. The tattooed man, Jace, who handled explosives, was missing. Ethan's face hardened. "Find him," he said, his voice like steel. "Now."
Lila's shadows flared, her heart pounding. The sanctuary's fragile trust was shattering, and the Veil's shadow loomed closer. She followed Ethan, her resolve hardening. The mole had endangered them all, but she wouldn't let it break her. Not when she was finally starting to believe she could fight back.