He stood there, barely moving, but Elara felt every ragged breath he took, as if it were her own. “You think I would have spared you back then, only to let you die now?” He shook his head. “That’s not how this ends.”
Her chest locked tight around the words.
“You weren’t supposed to die that night. Sono, Hallowed, death doesn’t get to take you. I claimed you first.”
The first lightof dawn bled through the windows, painting the room in a soft, pale glow when they finally made it back.
Tristan's snores filled the air like the rumble of a beast. He was a mess of limbs, one arm slung over his face, the other dangling off the bed, completely at ease despite everything. The guards at the door had mysteriously vanished, though whether it was Tristan’s doing or the Hunter’s, Elara didn’t have the strength to care.
The moment she stepped inside, her vision blurred, and her legs nearly buckled beneath her. The Stonebrew’s effects were gone. The fleeting strength it had given her drained to nothing. She swayed but pushed forward, each step a struggle, until she reached the armchair by the hearth and collapsed into it.
The Hunter made to leave, but Elara stopped him.
“We’re not done, Hunter.”
He paused, turning just enough for her to see the side of his face. “You're running on fumes. Get some rest. You’ll hear from me soon enough.”
“And if I don’t?”
He turned fully then. “Then, by all means, feel free to injure yourself again just to get my attention. The second I feel a paper cut, I’ll know it’s your doing.”
Elara scowled, but he didn’t wait for a reply. The door clicked softly shut behind him, and Tristan's snoring came to an abrupt halt. She glanced over, catching sight of him stretching out, long and lazy, before his gaze found hers, and a slow, wicked smile curved his lips.
“Fun night?”
Elara rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair. “A thrill, to be sure.”
Tristan snorted and swung his legs over the side of the bed, bare feet padding against the cold stone. He stretched once, crossed to the chair opposite her, and dropped into it with a quiet thud. His gaze flicked over her—tangled hair, exhaustion etched into her features, the faint tremor in her hands.
“More of a horror, maybe?”
Despite herself, Elara laughed—a breathy, unexpected burst that startled her. Gods, she was so tired it was starting to mess with her head. “How do you know the Hunter?”
Tristan leaned back in his chair, his fingers idly tracing the armrest as he considered her question. His eyes turnedthoughtful. “I've knownIvansince we were boys. Back before...” His gaze drifted toward her scar, the words faltering. He cleared his throat, glancing away.
Elara’s heart skipped. “Did you know me too?”
His eyes snapped back to hers, narrowing slightly as if the question had surprised him. “No,” he said after a pause, his voice firmer. “I didn’t have the pleasure. My father kept me far from court. Said it was…” He trailed off, a faint, cynical smile tugging at his lips before he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter what he thought. But I did see you once. On the first Luminalia.”
Her brows shot up. “What can you tell me about that day? What was I like?”
A flicker of pity crossed Tristan’s face, and it made her jaw clench.
“You were like a statue,” he said softly. “Quiet, detached, as if you weren’t fully there. Your eyes... they were black.”
Her heart stilled. “What?”
He hummed, nodding slightly. “Like twilight, dark and endless. I was rather surprised when I saw you again at the first party, to see that they’d lightened to a beautiful shade of gray.”
Elara bit her lip, ignoring his attempt at flirting. Her mind raced, trying to reconcile his words with her fragmented memories.Her eyes had been black?The thought lodged itself in her mind, unsettling and strange, like another piece of herself she didn’t recognize. She shivered, her damp clothes clinging to her skin. She shifted in her seat, scooting a little closer to the fire, and wrapped her arms around herself. “What about Lady Calista Thorne?”
Tristan threw one leg lazily over the other. “What about her?” he said, bored.
“Do you know her?”
He tapped his fingers against his knee. “Unfortunately.”
“I need to speak to her.”
