“You speakTírrish?” The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them, and she winced at her own foolishness.
Of course, he can speak Tírrish. He is Fae.
“Do you speak Latherian?”
He said nothing. He only held her gaze with such intensity that she couldn't help but drink in the sight of him—every angular line and chiseled contour of his face. The bold sweep of his cheekbones, the firmness of his jaw, all cast in the flickering light from eyes that danced like fireflies through the cavern's gloom.
Devastating.That single word whispered through the chaos of her thoughts. The most breathtaking thing she had ever laid her eyes on.
Her gaze darted around, suddenly aware of her changed position—she was no longer in the spot she remembered butpushed up against the bars separating their cells. This close, she could see the imprints of his palms on the ground next to her, marks of his reach through the bars to help her. But then, he pulled back, retreating with the smooth caution of a cat retracting its claws.
“Bás mall dúinn ar fad scáth do rí. Coinnigh i do chuid fola rófhada é agus beidh géag in easnamh ort ... nó níos measa fós.3”
Elara shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” She placed her hand on her chest and gazed right into his eyes. “Thank you.”
He cocked his head, studying her as if he were seeing her in a new light. His broad hand moved to his chest, mirroring her action. “Reynnar.” The syllables were a mystery to her, yet she felt a strange comfort in their utterance.
There was a noticeable shift in his demeanor as he watched her, a gentleness creeping into his expression that suggested he recognized the gratitude on her face. The absurdity of the moment struck her then, a laugh bubbling up, ironic, and a bit self-deprecating. She had already disregarded Malak’s stern instruction not to engage with the other prisoners.
So much for heeding warnings.
The Fae’s amber eyes widened, a glint of intrigue lighting them up. A playful curve danced along his lips. But as quickly as the smile came, it vanished, replaced by a deep, contemplative look.
“Coinnigh greim daingean ar an tsolas sin. Tá sé de nós ag an áit seo an uile rud a sciobadh uait.4”
He gave a nod, a silent farewell before retreating from the iron bars and disappearing into the shadows of his cell. There was a sadness in the way he’d moved into the darkness, as if he’d resigned himself to it. His sunlit eyes and the depth of his gaze lingered on her mind, long into the night.
Elara jolted awake,the harsh clash of iron slicing through the dungeon's gloom. Her eyes flew open, wide, and searching, but no guard stood at her door.
“Tank yeh!”
The Fae in the neighboring cell spoke on a breath, urgency threading straight into her chest. He rattled the bars once more, pain flickering across his face as he let go. “Suas. Tank yeh.”
Boots on stone—fast, closing—snapped Elara fully awake. Clarity and panic surged together as she understood the warning. Even as her pulse spiked, an absurd thought surfaced:Thank you.He’d taken the words for her name.
The urge to laugh caught and died as the footsteps drew nearer. She pushed to her feet and pressed her back to the cold stone, pulse skittering.
The Fae gave a single shake of his head and jabbed a finger at his own face.“Eagla s'agatsa sin fórsa beatha s'acusan. Ná léirigh ach do chuid fraochtachta dóibh.6”
His words spilled out, edged with warning, a feral light igniting in his eyes. Elongated canines flashed, a ripple of alarm skating her spine—but it wasn’t fear that took hold. It was kinship. His stance wasn’t a threat; it was a challenge, urging her to fight, to endure. She might not be the predator here, but she didn’t have to be prey.
Elara’s expression hardened, every line setting into resolve. Anger, she decided, was far better company than fear.
Boots clanked to a stop outside her cell. Her stomach tightened. Malak.
“Get up. You've been summoned.”
A hard lump formed in her throat as the door swung wide. She rose, a shiver climbing up her legs not entirely from the chill.
Summoned.
“The Hallowed must be rebound, and I want you to administer the new seal.”
Dread coiled in her stomach, a heavy, sinking weight.
“Move! We ain’t got all bloody day.”
Elara shot him a withering glare, chin tipped in defiance, even as pain throbbed through her wrist with each step. Blood dripped steadily behind her, marking her path from the cell.
