Movement snapped her focus back to Osin. He rose, robes whispering once before the room went still. Without a word, he crossed to Branwen and lifted a filled vial. The air held as he moved down the table, tipping a single drop of her blood into each goblet, the dark swirl vanishing into the wine.
She wanted to look away, to shut her eyes against the sickening sight, but she couldn’t. A cold inevitability washed over her as each lord raised their glass.
“Drink,” Osin crooned, “and let the rewards of your loyalty flow through your veins.”
At his command, they obeyed, lifting their goblets in unison. Elara’s stomach twisted as she watched her blood vanish down their throats without hesitation, treated like a rare vintage—something familiar, savored, undeserving of a second thought.
Why?
The question tore through her, relentless. Her whole life, she’d been told her blood was meant only for the Convergence—to bridge a caster to an element. But now she saw the cracks in that lie, the pieces that didn’t add up. The shortages. The withdrawals.
Osin’s eyes locked onto hers from across the room, his smile faltering the moment their gazes collided. The anger simmering just beneath her skin must have been written all over her face, a challenge she didn’t bother to hide. His expression hardened, and that cold, familiar menace settled over his face. It was the kind of look that usually sent her gaze darting away, spine curling under his unspoken threat. But not this time.
He stood. The blue of his eyes vanished into an endless void, leaving behind something inhuman—somethingdeadly.
Elara's pulse thundered in her ears, a frantic drum signaling danger, every instinct screaming at her to break the connection, lower her gaze and cloak herself in the mask of subservience she had worn too many times before.
But with every agonized breath that rasped in her throat, she vowed silently, fiercely;she would not grant him a show of weakness.
No,let him choke on his wicked feast, let him find her spirit indigestible, a morsel too stubborn to swallow down. Let her mettle be the bone that lodged itself in her throat, her resilience the flavor that soured upon his tongue.
A faint twitch in his eye was all the warning she received.
His shadows erupted, coiling through the air, a blur of black that sent a ripple of screams across the room.
Chairs scraped against stone as people scrambled back—but Elara didn’t flinch. She lifted her chin, teeth clenched, refusing to give Osin the satisfaction of fear.
Then the grip closed around her wrists. Cold. Crushing. Shadows coiled tighter, forcing her veins open as blood spilled down her arms.
Pain detonated—sharp, absolute—like ice ripping through her marrow, spreading with every heartbeat. The world swam, darkness creeping in as something heavier than pain, colder than fear, crashed over her.
Death.
It pressed close, whispering of stillness. The room blurred into distant noise—rustling, shouts—until only Osin remained. His head tilted, curiosity flickering.
Elara sagged as black swallowed her sight.
Her breath hitched as all-consuming night stretched out in every direction, but this time, the chill crawling over her skin wasn’t enough to fool her. She knew she was dreaming.
To her left, a faint glow flickered—sickly, wrong, like light that had forgotten what warmth was supposed to feel like. It whispered to her, just as it had before. Every step she took felt like an act of treachery against her own sense of reason, a submission to a force far beyond her will. Even so, she kept going.
In the distance, there was another light, smaller, weaker.
But the Hunter's lightburned.
The veil between their minds felt paper-thin now, and the air shifted.
A rush of icy cold swept over her skin, stealing her breath, freezing it in her throat as she came to an abrupt stop. She reached out, but the connection slipped through her fingers.
And then she felt him.
Elara turned, but there was no one there. Just that familiar, steady presence. The beat of his heart unmistakable.
His voice came, echoing softly, wrapping around her like smoke.
“Where are you?”
“The Grand Hall,” she whispered into the darkness.
