Elyssara’sfiery rage should frustrate me, or at the very least, make me nervous. But for some fucked up reason, it turns me on. There is nothing more beautiful than a woman who isn’t afraid to show her dark side. Even more so when she is covered in the blood of her enemies who dared to stand in her way.
Therion clears his throat and gives me a pointed look as if to sayfocus, you fool.I sit up straighter, making eye contact with Elyssara. “Where would you like to start?”
She all but snarls at me, and says, “Let’s start simply, seeing as even simple truths have proven to be difficult for you.”
Ronyn snorts a small laugh before covering his mouth and forcing his features into submission. Elyssara shoots him a look that I’m glad to evade for once, and he says, “What? I’m just glad you’re not directing it at me!” For all his jokes and playfulness, I like him. She spins back around, eyes searing into me.
“Who is Torvyn?”
I make a silent promise to tell her the truth for as long as I can.
“He is the Galreth leader of the rebellion. He is also Finnick’s father, and a long-term friend of mine.”
She seems to mull the answer over, deciding if she’s content withit. “Okay. And who is Finnick to this rebellion? What does he do?” Some of the bite—but not much—has come out of her tone, seemingly soothed by my honesty.
“Finn acts as the Innkeeper at The Broken Stag—here, where we’re staying. He’s also a messenger between The Shadow Wastes and Dravara. I’m sure you noticed that he can move without notice quite easily.” I keep my answers stripped back and raw, hoping that the more honesty I offer her, the sooner her curiosity will be satisfied.
She huffs a sigh, expression unreadable. The air is thick with tension, heavy and loaded with meaning. This moment feels like a tipping point. “And The Broken Stag? It’s not a regular inn, is it?”
Clever girl.
“No. It’s a safe house and meeting point for the rebellion.”
“And you? Who are you in all of this?”
Fuck. I let out a shaky exhale. She’s starting to ask more of the right questions, and I know everything is about to change. “I am the leader of the rebellion.”
She presses on, taking what I’ve just revealed—no doubt for later—and pushes on, hungry for answers. “And Merrik? Jax?”
Her questions come in a flurry, desperate, adamant.
“Merrik and Jax have been with the rebellion since it began ten years ago, and I’ve known them both since I was a child. They’ve infiltrated the Dravari Guard at The Joining, and they transport goods to The Shadow Wastes, spy, that sort of thing.”
For whatever reason, this seems to hit Elyssara harder.I’m such a fucking bastard. I can feel the trust we’ve built dissolving between us every moment this conversation continues.
“Why? Why do they need to infiltrate The Joining? Are you resourcingThe Shadow Wastes? Arming their soldiers?” she spits the words as if they repulse her. Whatever she thinks she knows about The Wastes is likely wildly inaccurate fallacies and indoctrinations. Everything she knows about the realms will be obliterated when she finally knows the truth.
“There is so much you don’t know, Elyssara?—”
“Then fucking tell me! Stop treating me like a vacuous littlechild and tell me the godsdamned truth!” She cuts me off, screaming the words. Years of living in the dark have taken a toll—and it’s unfurling out of her in real time. Her skin glows a bright, golden yellow.Beautiful.
“Duskae,” I stand to soothe her, her breathing now ragged and fast.
“Don’t fucking patronize me, Kael. Just tell me,” she sobs the words, and clenches at her chest, as if that will somehow soften the pain she’s feeling. All I want to do is go to her.
“No passage is granted across the continent unless sanctioned by both kings. We need to be able to move around without notice, build up our numbers for the rebellion. We have good people who have given up everything to fight with us, and we need to feed them, arm them, care for their families.”
She’s nodding, as if starting to piece some of this together.
I continue, “We’re also piecing together trade routes between the realms. Dravara has been resourcing The Wastes with food and medicine for decades.” I pause, breathing heavily—I know I’m about to crack the foundations of her reality.
Therion is looking at me with hesitant eyes, as if begging me to justtell her what I want her to know. But I can’t. I have to keep going.
“But what does Dravara get in return? Why are tensions building between the realms?” I ask, urging her to figure it out.
“I’ve wondered this for a long time,” Seren whispers, eyes focussed on the floor, piecing it together.
“Well, I haven’t. I’ve been too busy thieving scraps from others that are starving to be worrying about greedy kings and their fight for control,” Elyssara bites, and I can feel her rage about to snap.
