Her eyes drifted downward, catching sight of the trays on the floor. Dinner sat there, untouched and cold, right beside the leftovers from her breakfast and lunch. Stale bread, congealed soup—all of it left to rot. She had slept through it all.An entire day, wasted.She cursed under her breath, bracing her hands against the stone floor and trying to push herself up. Her muscles trembled violently, weak and uncooperative, her body collapsing back against the cold stone.
Saria had warned her this would happen—the price her body would pay for pushing past its limits. The game, running through the city, using what little strength she had left, had only worsened her condition. She closed her eyes, trying to remember how long it would take her body to heal. But it was hard to think, hard to focus when everything ached.
A clank of armor in the hall caught her attention, and Elara’s eyes snapped open. A guard was passing by. “Hey,” she called out, trying again. “Do you know where my cellmate is?”
The guard’s step faltered, hesitation flickering in his eyes as he glanced around, nerves written all over him. Elara’s brow furrowed, studying him—she didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t one of the regulars, not part of the usual rotation. New. Definitely new. He had that nervous, uncertain edge about him, like someone who wasn’t sure if they were doing things right. Maybe he was Rolfe’s replacement. She winced at the thought.
“Please. Is there anything you can tell me?”
The guard shifted uncomfortably, his gaze fixed anywhere but on her. He wasn’t supposed to speak to her; even as fresh as he was, he knew that much. Elara’s mind raced, and an idea formed, pitiful as it was. She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. “If you tell me where my cellmate is, I'll give you some of my blood.”
The guard’s eyes snapped to hers, wide with disbelief and something far more dangerous. “What?"” he rasped.
“For information, and your discretion,” she replied. The shame of it hit her immediately. But shewasdesperate, and there was no point pretending otherwise. Her hand found a jagged rock on the floor, and she pricked her finger, wincing at the sting. She could only hope the Hunter wouldn’t sense it. She held out her hand, watching as the small bead of crimson welled up on her fingertip. “Where is Reynnar?”
The guard’s eyes stayed glued to her finger, transfixed. “He’s… with the others,” he mumbled, never pulling his gaze from the crimson bead. “They’re gathering them for the next extraction.”
Elara’s stomach twisted. “Where?”
“The third tunnel,” he finally answered, his eyes flickering up to meet hers for a brief moment. “That’s where they conduct the alchemical work. Perform the trials.”
A dull throb pulsed behind her eyes, the pressure mounting with each second.Extraction? Trials?Were they torturing the Sidhe right now? What was Osin doing to them?
Her eyes burned with tears but she forced her expression to remain neutral. She couldn’t let him see how close she was to breaking. “How long until he’s back?”
The guard shrugged, his eyes back on her finger. “Could be days. Usually takes about a week.”
“When did the trials begin?”
“A few days back.”
Elara swallowed hard, piecing the timeline together. She’d been gone for six days—Reynnar must have been taken right after her.
“Can I see him?”
The guard blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. He shook his head. “Not until the trials are done. Then he’ll be sent back.”
Elara nodded, her finger throbbing with each pulse. “Where’s Godfrey?”
The guard frowned. “Who?”
“The Lord Sovereign’s former healer.”
His brows drew together, clearly irritated. “How the hell should I know?”
Elara clenched her jaw, teeth aching as she ground them together. The guard stepped closer, sweat and iron thickening the air between them. She exhaled, resolve faltering, and reached through the bars. To her surprise, her hand slipped through the wards—just far enough for her fingers to pass.
The guard wasted no time. His rough, calloused hand clamped down on her wrist as he yanked her closer, his lips closing around the tiny wound on her finger. The moment his mouth touched her skin, Elara's stomach churned violently. His breath was hot and sticky. His eyes fluttered shut, and a soft, guttural sound escaped him as he sucked on her finger like a man starved.
Elara's skin crawled, revulsion rolling through her, every muscle in her body screaming for her to yank her hand back, but she held still, forcing herself to endure it. She tried to focus on anything but the revolting sensation, and then she caught sight of his ring.
The dull quartz embedded in the tarnished band glowed, its surface awakening in soft pulses. The sight of it made something cold curl in her gut.
“That’s enough,” she snapped.
Elara tried to pull her hand free, but his grip tightened. For one sickening moment she thought he wouldn’t let go—then, with a shuddering breath, he released her. His fingers slackened. He blinked, disoriented, as if waking from a dream, and slowly licked his lips.
“If you need help in the future… We can arrange this again.”
