And, frankly, she understood why. It made everything less complicated because the gods knew their waking hours were already tangled enough.
Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure he slept at all. Wherever he vanished to at night kept him occupied until dawn—she heard his footsteps in the halls just as first light broke, every morning without fail. He always seemed angry, though she couldn’t quite tell why.
And if there was one thing Elara couldn’t stand, it was people who spread their foul moods like contagion.
You’re angry?Fine. But keep it to yourself. She wasn’t anyone’s emotional punching bag. There was a baseline ofdecency she believed the world should operate by, and today, the Hunter was failing spectacularly—short-tempered, silent, brooding.
An absolutewet blanket.
Which, actually, gave her an idea.
Without thinking, Elara yanked the water thread. A heartbeat later, the Hunter was drenched. He gasped, sputtering—and when she opened her eyes, she nearly doubled over. He looked like a soaked cat, wide-eyed and utterly stunned.
Laughter burst from her before she could stop it. It echoed once—and then his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. Immediate regret hit her full force.
Elara sprang to her feet and bolted.
Because, obviously, running would save her.
The ground shifted beneath her almost instantly, waves of earth rippling under her feet. She barely managed to leap over one before the wind kicked up, pushing her back. She could hear him gaining on her, his footsteps heavy and determined. In a last-ditch effort, she tugged at his wind thread, breaking through the gale with a triumphant grin—for all of one second—before he tackled her from behind.
They hit the ground hard, the breath knocked clean out of her. Before he could pin her down, Elara scrambled, grabbing a fistful of dirt and slammed it into his face.
“What thefuckis wrong with you?” he snarled, wiping furiously at his eyes.
She couldn’t stop it—a wild, breathless laugh burst out of her.
“Quite a bit, actually.”
He let out a string of curses, one after the other, and honestly, she was almost impressed by his sheer creativity. Then, with a deep, exasperated huff, he rolled off her, and flopped onto the ground, glaring at the sky as if it had personally offended him.
Elara’s breaths came in shaky bursts as she watched pale morning light filter through the clouds. For a moment, happiness flickered—warm, weightless. Then it faded, leaving a hollow ache in its wake. The smile she’d been holding unraveled, bit by bit, until it was simply gone.
The sky felt too big, too endless, and for a brief moment, it pressed down on her. Her stomach twisted, panic spreading as a lump formed in her throat, refusing to go away no matter how hard she swallowed.
Everything she had learned—everything still left to do—felt like it was piling up faster than she could manage. No matter how hard she pushed, it never felt sufficient. She wasn’t learning fast enough. The parasite still lurked beneath her skin, and her control over the Draoth Cara was shaky at best. They were likely weeks—weeks—away from mastering the spell to guide them through the Void’s currents.
Weeks when they had only hours.
The Hunter exhaled beside her, the sound heavy, almost resigned, like he’d made the decision to let her off the hook—at least for now. She could sense the anger draining out of him, leaving behind only exhaustion.
“You know, normal people don’t solve their problems by throwing dirt in someone’s face.”
She turned her head to look at him. “Normal people don’t spend their mornings grumbling like an old man and acting like they’ve never heard of breakfast.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I was trying to teach you something, in case you missed that. You’re supposed to be practicing control—not hurling soil at me like a child.”
“Or maybe you’re just irritated that my unpredictable methods caught you off guard,” she quipped, a small smirk on her lips.
He arched a brow. “Unpredictable? That’s the word you’re going with?”
Elara turned away, hiding her smile. She shifted her weight, starting to push herself up, when something cold and gritty smacked her in the face. She gasped, inhaling a mouthful of dirt, sputtering as her gaze snapped to him. And there he was—grinning. Not just any grin, but a full, unapologetic,infuriatingsmile that made her stomach flip.
He stood, brushing off his trousers. “You might actually be onto something with thoseunpredictable methodsof yours.”
Elara glared at him, lips pressed into a thin line, but he only grinned wider. “You know,” he drawled, “I’ve always thought you looked better with a little dirt on you.”
Before she could snap back, he crouched and brushed his thumb over her nose, wiping away a speck of dirt. She stopped breathing.
