He barely bothered to look at the guards, just flicked his hand, lazy, like they were nothing. The men shot her one last confused look before scuffling off. All but Malak.
“No one goes in or outta that cell but me,” he growled, chest puffing out like some overstuffed bird, the leather of his armor groaning with the strain.
The Hunter didn’t so much as blink. “She’s my charge. I’m here to reinforce her bind, and I will see her regularly. If you have an issue, take it up with the warden. My orders come from Osin, notyou.”
Malak’s jaw clenched, the scar on his cheek pulling tight. Silence stretched before he gave a slow, grudging nod. The wardsflickered, energy humming once before sputtering out, leaving the cell exposed.
The Hunter cocked his head. “I need privacy. To concentrate.”
Malak opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut, nostrils flaring. He shot Elara one last venomous look before storming off, leaving her alone with the Hunter.
Elara’s song died in her throat.
He was quiet for a beat, studying her. Then he shifted, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe as if the whole thing bored him.
“So,” he said at last, voice smooth and low, “I’m guessing you didn’t swallow the pill.”
Elara's cheeks flushed. “That was fromyou?”
He dipped his chin, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Why?”
“I needed a way into your cell.”
Her body went rigid, a sudden spike of tension coursing through her. Slowly, her hand slipped into her pocket, fingers wrapping around one of the sharp pins.
"What do you want?"
“It wasn’t a lie,” he drawled. “I do need to reassess your bind. But I’d prefer to do it quietly, without the Lord Sovereign breathing down my neck.”
Elara bristled. So, she had been right. He needed to fix whatever mistake he’d made without his precious lord finding out. That’s why he’d lied.
“Like hell you are.”
She spat the words, watching the Hunter tense, poised to move. Before he could, a growl rolled through the cell—deep, ancient, echoing like war drums in a fog-choked forest.
Her muscles locked, breath snagging as she spun.
Her gaze collided with Reynnar’s.
His posture was predatory, knuckles white from the force of his grip, and his eyes — they blazed with a rage so visceral that it felt as though the very stone beneath their feet might crack. It was an undiluted, primal show of protectiveness, leaving her heart racing, a cocktail of alarm and unexpected thankfulness.
His eyes narrowed at Reynnar, barely a flicker of emotion beneath the mask before he turned back to Elara. “Listen, Hallowed, I don’t want this assignment any more than you want me here. But let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be—for either of us.”
Elara let out a cold laugh, the sound cutting through the tense air. “Go ahead, try it. I dare you.” The confidence startled even her, rising unbidden, dark and coiled beneath her skin. Maybe it was her hatred of anyone marked with a sunburst. Or Reynnar’s presence so close she could almost feel him through the bars.
Or maybe it was the memory of the Hunter at her mercy—how he’d squirmed when she held his seal, how she’d savored it. There was no chance she’d surrender that power without a fight.
She didn’t stop to think.
In one swift motion, Elara spat. The glob struck true, splattering across the glossy black of his chest plate. Satisfaction curled low in her gut as surprise flickered through his eyes—there, then gone before she could savor it.
He didn’t rush. He wiped the spit away with a slow, deliberate sweep of his gloved hand. Then he lifted his head and met her gaze.
That was when she saw it—a spark of challenge smoldering just beneath the surface. A silent dare. A gauntlet thrown without a word. Andgods, if it didn’t make something in her stir, daring her to rise to it.
“Has anyone ever told you how impossible you are to deal with?”
