With a groggy motion, she reached to scratch her nose, her mind still adrift. But her hand wouldn't budge. Confusion mingled with the last remnants of sleep as she gave a weak tug again, opening her eyes wide and bleary.
What—
Her heart gave a slow, startled thud as she looked down. Ivan held her wrist snugly beneath his arm, his grip firm even in sleep, keeping her against him. His hair was the culprit, the soft strands brushing her nose as she realized she was still burrowed in the crook of his neck.
Oh, gods. Oh,no.
But before the panic had time to truly set in, the heavy library doors slammed open, hitting the wall with a resounding crack. Tristan strode in like a hurricane.
“Morning, lovebirds. Forget something?”
Elara barely had time to process the words before Ivan stirred, froze for half a second, then shot up so fast he nearly knocked her off the settee.
“Fuck!” He scrambled to steady her, wide-eyed.
“Yeah,fuck’sabout right,” Tristan said, but his usual teasing tone was absent, his smirk nowhere to be found.
Ivan pushed himself off the sofa, pulling Elara up with him, already turning to open a rift. But Tristan stepped in, cutting him off.
“Let me take her,” he said smoothly. “Osin knows Calista and I have… started talking again. I could tell him she twisted my arm into spicing things up with Miss Holier-than-thou here.”
Elara snorted before she could stop herself. As if anyone would need convincing ofthat.
Tristan caught it immediately, flashing her a devilish smile that said he knewexactlywhere her thoughts had gone.
Ivan ignored the exchange. “Does he know she’s missing?”
“Not yet,” he replied, his easy expression tightening ever so slightly. “I was up early this morning—came to see you, Elara. Found you weren’t where you were supposed to be. You two are so damn lucky I decided not to sleep in.”
Ivan didn’t laugh. He turned to Elara, his expression hard, though his touch was gentle as he cupped the back of her neck, his fingers slipping through her hair. “I’ll come for you tonight. Practice rifting. Practice threading from a distance. Tug on the bond when you’re alone, and I’ll come for you.”
There was no room for argument in his voice, no hesitation. Elara nodded, the promise in his words settling deep inside her. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his breath warm against her skin.
“Go,” Ivan said, his voice strained, already pulling away as the word left his mouth.
A rift tore open before them, faster than she could track. Tristan grabbed her arm, and suddenly, they wererunningthrough the swirling chaos. But there—at the edge of her vision—was the light. A sliver of gold, growing larger and brighter with each second, cutting through the darkness. The light expanded, shimmering like sunlight on water, stretching into the shape of a doorway.
They burst through it, stumbling into the bedroom with a rush of air that left Elara’s head spinning.
Tristan moved first, fast and silent, crossing the room in a few strides to press his ear against the door. He glanced over his shoulder, “Guards are still there,” he said, “All sounds quiet. For now.”
Her chest loosened as Tristan walked toward her, his usual air of arrogance stripped away. For the first time in the weeks she had known him, he looked unsure of himself—uncomfortable, even.
“I came here this morning because there’s something you need to hear. Something I need to say.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I haven’t always seen things clearly. I didn’t want to. It was easier to accept the world as it was handed to me—the version where people like you were expendable.”
Elara blinked, surprised. Of all the things he could’ve said, this wasn’t what she’d expected.
“I was ignorant,” he continued, “I was so comfortable in my privilege, so blind to the truth of what was happening to you, to the Sidhe. And I’ll carry that ignorance with me for the rest of my life.” His voice cracked—just a fraction—but she caught it.Feltit.
“I’m so sorry, Elara. For all of it. For not seeing past the lies I was told. For doing nothing when I should have. I don’t expect forgiveness, and I know an apology can’t undo the harm I’ve done. But I need you to know this: I see you now. I see your fight, your pain, and the injustice you’ve endured.” He took astep closer, his eyes holding hers with a sincerity that knocked the breath out of her. “And I want to help—to do better. To be better. In whatever way you’ll allow me.”
“I—thank you, Tristan,” she replied softly, and she meant it.
She wasn’t used to hearing apologies, especially not directed at her. And while Tristan hadn’t been the one to hurt her directly, his apology landed heavily on her. Because for the first time, someone had acknowledged it. Acknowledged her. That maybe she wasn’t imagining it, wasn’t crazy for believing the world was as broken as she knew it to be. That maybe her suffering wasn’t a reflection of her weakness or fragility, but of something far more insidious.
She hated that it made her feel validated, in some strange, twisted way. As though her struggles weren’t just burdens to bear in silence, weren’t just dismissed as overreactions or failures to adapt. It shouldn’t have mattered this much—what he said. But it did.
He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you tonight.”
