The look in his eyes—a taunting, knowing gleam—made something icy trickle down her spine. There was a reason for it, a reason she should know, but she couldn't remember.
Her gaze drifted, unmoored, as a hand grabbed her, pulling her into the whirl of a dance. A circle of hands—grasping, twining, laughing—swept her along, their maniacal giggles filling the air like a twisted lullaby. Elara stumbled, her feet no longer her own, unable to resist as they led her deeper into the maze of trees.
Her heart pounded wildly, her mind spinning as fast as her body. The world tilted and twisted, and then—release.
The hands let go, and she spun and spun—until the ground rushed up to meet her. The snow beneath her was cold and wet,but she didn’t care. She didn’t feel it. Her limbs were weightless, the world a blur of silver. She doubled over, giggles spilling out in breathless bursts as she curled into herself, everything around her still whirling.
Snowflakes tickled her nose, her lips parted, and the taste of winter danced on her tongue. She couldn’t remember what she was laughing at—or if there had ever been a reason.
Everything felt so distant, so dreamlike—so utterly intoxicating.
Elara blinked her eyes open, and through the spinning fog, her gaze settled on something—or rather, someone. A woman. She stood out like a drop of blood, her burgundy dress vivid against the wintry backdrop.
The laughter died in her throat. Breathless, she stared, studying the woman. There was something familiar about her...
Before she could make sense of it, the woman yanked her up from the snow. The sudden movement sent the world spinning again, the trees blurring into dark streaks. Elara couldn’t help herself—she snickered, the sound spilling from her lips like a song she couldn’t stop singing.
The woman dragged her beneath the low-hanging boughs of a towering spruce, its thick branches dripping with snow and creating a secluded nook.
Then, without warning, the woman pushed her head back, fingers digging into her jaw and forcing her mouth open. Elara gasped as she poured something into her throat—a thick, syrupy liquid that coated her tongue. It tasted like rotting fruit, and burned as it slid down. She choked, her body convulsing as the liquid forced its way deeper.
It was as if a switch had been flipped; the world snapping into focus. The swirling lights, the laughter, the haze—all of it peeled away. Her heart raced as she blinked, clarity flooding her senses.
Shit.
Elara spun around, nearly stumbling as she met Calista’s icy glare.
“Is this really all it takes to get you on your back?” Her scowl deepened as she tucked the vial of antidote into her bodice.
Heat flared through Elara, crawling up her neck. "Sorry if I’m not exactly well-versed in handling being drugged against my will."
The words slipped out before she could stop herself, and she instantly regretted them. Calista’s face twitched—just barely—but it was enough. A pang of guilt stabbed through her.
“I didn’t mean?—”
“Drop it.” Calista’s tone was clipped, her voice cold. “Just stick with the plan, and it’ll all be over. Tonight.”
She could only nod, her throat tight as she watched Calista turn away, disappearing into the snowy evergreens.
Elara let out a breath, shame still coiled tightly within her as she pressed her back against the rough bark of a tree. The coarse texture scraped her skin, but she didn’t care. It was as good a place as any to hide, to catch her breath, and pull herself together before facing the madness to come.
Elara peeked around the trunk, her breath catching as a group of masked revelers staggered past. Her gaze then drifted upward, locking onto the shadowed balcony where Osin loomed. Any moment now, Calista would arrive, and she would need to?—
A hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off the scream tearing up her throat. She was yanked backward, her body colliding with a solid chest. She clawed at the arm around her, her nails scraping skin as her body twisted and jerked.
“Shhh, El, it’s me.”
Elara froze, terror giving way to a rush of emotion.
The hand fell away from her mouth, and when she turned, there he was. That shock of sandy hair, those honey-brown eyes she’d once memorized—the face she had trusted completely,recklessly. But something was wrong. The warmth in his gaze had dulled, his face gaunt, with hard lines cutting through where laughter used to live.
Elara shook her head, struggling to process the sight of him. “Dario, I?—”
But something in him just… broke.
“I’m sorry.Gods, El, I’m so damn sorry.” His voice cracked, the words spilling out like he couldn’t hold them back. “For all of it. For what I’ve done—what I failed to do. You weren’t supposed to end up here. You were supposed to stay safe in Verdara. It was my job to protect you, and I… I?—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, her voice hard. But she didn’t pull away from him. She couldn’t. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much everything inside her screamed to move, to put distance between them, her body refused to listen.
