The Hunter’s gaze didn’t waver. “What would it take? To get you to come with me?”
“There’s nothing?—”
“Just try me.”
Her heart skipped a beat, the words dying on her tongue. She narrowed her eyes, studying him, searching for the trap she knew had to be there. “How do I know you’ll hold up your end of the deal? You promise me now, but the moment we finish whatever hellish thing you’ve got planned, you’ll just back out?”
His nostrils flared. “I’ll swear a blood oath. Here and now. If that’s what it takes to get you to come, I’ll do it.”
She blinked, utterly floored. She couldn’t hide the surprise flickering through her as she stared at him. Still unreadable, still cold as ever—but his words... desperate.
Interesting.
A little crack she could use if she played this right.
“I want Reynnar freed,” she said, testing the waters.
His shoulders tensed, the muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he crossed his arms again, his gaze hard as steel. “That’s not happening.” Elara opened her mouth to argue, but he lifted a hand, silencing her before she could get a word out. “I don’t control the fate of the captives.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Fine. But at least move theSidheinto bigger cells—like Reynnar's. My tunnel’s nearly empty. Put them in with me. And don’t pack them in like livestock."
At least for now. Until she figured out how to get them out.
If the Hunter was surprised by her use of the wordSidhe, he didn’t let it show. His expression remained unreadable, though his eyes narrowed slightly, weighing her words. For a long moment, he just studied her, silent, and then, with a sharp inhale, he gave a curt nod.
Elara pushed her luck. “I want to see Godfrey. And I want information.” She kept it vague, leaving the request wide open so she could ask for whatever she needed later.
The Hunter’s shoulders tensed, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he exhaled sharply through his nose. “Anythingelse?” he bit out.
Her mind buzzed, thoughts spiraling, crashing over each other, all fighting for space. If she could just find a way to get the Sidhe back to their world, to get the rebels and Godfrey out, it would be worth it. Worth closing the chink in her bind. Worth losing the small sliver of power she had. Freedom wasn’t in the cards for her—she wasn’t naive enough to believe otherwise—but if she could make sure they had a chance… it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. It would be a bargain.
Elara shook her head. “So, how does this oath work?”
The Hunter’s steps were measured, slow, each one bringing him closer until he halted just out of reach. His hand reached for the dagger at his belt. “I offer you my blood,” he said, voice steady. Without hesitation, he dragged the blade across hispalm, crimson welling up from the cut. “This is my oath to you, bound in blood. If I break it, this stone will crack. And with it, something inside me. I swear to move the Sidhe, give you access to Godfrey, and answer three questions of your choosing.”
“Ten questions,” she countered, crossing her arms.
“Three,” he repeated, unbending.
Her teeth ground together. Ten questions were what she needed, but if he got her in front of Godfrey, maybe three would be enough. Godfrey had worked for Osin for years, had rebel ties. He’d helped her once, tried to get her out of Verdara. He’d help her again—she was sure of it.
“Fine.”
Blood dripped down, rich and red where he held his hand over his chest, letting it pool briefly before it began to lift into the air, gathering itself like molten metal. Elara watched as it shimmered, glowing faintly, the blood twisting, and hardening into a dark, smooth stone.
Elara’s heart gave a small, uneven beat. His presence, heavy and full of unspoken power, pressed against her. The stone floated between them, and with a subtle twist of his wrist, a delicate cord of vines sprouted from it, weaving together in the air. He didn’t touch it—he didn’t need to. With a call to the wind, the bloodstone drifted toward her, hovering just above her chest before settling directly over her heart.
Chapter 31
The great city of Arinthel was… grimy. At least,thispart of it was.
The city sprawled across rolling hills and valleys, its expanse interrupted by the jagged silhouettes of towers and spires that pierced the sky. In the distance, the grand domes of the upper city glinted faintly, but here, the splendor was lost beneath layers of soot and grime.
Rain drizzled steadily, dripping from the rooftops, and running in small rivulets down the alley. The Hunter and Elara walked through the narrow passage, their footsteps muffled by the slick cobblestones. The streets twisted like veins through the district, a maze of alleys and side passages that seemed designed to confound. Some alleys narrowed to the width of a doorway, while others opened unexpectedly into small courtyards cluttered with debris. It was almost as if the buildings were erected without a plan or purpose other than to fill space.
Elara barely noticed the cold rain biting at her skin, the droplets sliding down her face and soaking into her clothes. The wind tugged at her hair, plastering wet strands against her cheeks. It didn't matter. She wasout—out of the Pit, free from that cursed castle. For the first time in ages, she could breathe.The air wasn't fresh—it was heavy with pollution and the scent of the city's underbelly—but it was better than the Pit, better than the stench of spent ether that clung to Mordenhall.
She tugged at the cloak the Hunter had tossed her—one of his spares, thick and worn, smelling faintly of clove and earth. He’d rifted them out of the castle with ease, pulling her through the strange nothingness between worlds, only to stop just outside the city.
