Because if Elli can sever Aelfric's thread so easily, she can sever mine too.
"What do you want from me?" I ask.
"To warn you." Elli's expression grows serious, the amusement draining from her ancient face. "Blight doesn't accept defeat easily. You've met her already."
I remember. The child-sized Un with Rhianelle's young face, whispering poison into Mal's ear. The one who wanted me dead.
"She's found another candidate," Elli continues. "Someone she believes is more suitable. Someone worthy of what Rhianelle will become."
"Who?" The word comes out as a growl.
"That would be telling," she says lightly. "And where would the fun be in that?"
She extends her hand toward another thread. Mine.
It's a pitiful thing compared to what Aelfric's had been. Thin and charred at the edges. But wrapped around it, keeping it from snapping entirely, is a golden string that glows like sunlight.
Rhianelle's thread. Binding herself to me, holding on tightly.
"If Rhianelle grows weak enough, if your string frays just a little more, Blight will cut it," Elli says, watching me carefully. "She'll introduce this new candidate and weave him into Rhianelle's life. The bond will take root because Rhianelle will be too weak to resist."
Anger surges through me, hot and violent. "Cut the thread then. Weave a dozen more. None of it means anything if she doesn't survive. I don't care about fate's designs. Let her live."
Sharpness glints beneath the softness of her age. For a heartbeat, the illusion of frailty thins.
Yet I do not look away. I've stood before things crueler than her and I'm still standing.
"I do not need fate," I say, meeting her gaze without flinching. "I love her. She loves me. That's enough."
"Is it? What happens when someone appears who fits her perfectly? Someone who matches her down to the very essence of what she is? Someone who won't watch her age and die while remaining unchanged?"
Each word is a dagger, finding every fear I've harbored since the first time Rhianelle smiled at me.
"You think I haven't thought of that?" Control slips despite my effort to hold it. "Every day, every moment, it's all I think about. She deserves better than what I can give her."
"And yet you cling to her anyway," Elli observes without pity. "Selfish creature."
"Yes." I won't deny it. "I'm selfish and I'm everything she shouldn't want. But I love her and I'll fight fate itself to keep her."
Elli studies me for a long moment. Her ancient eyes seem to see through me, weighing my soul against some cosmic scale I can't see.
"You truly care for her," she says at last, voice stripped of mockery. "Very well, vampire. Continue on your path. Find the healer. Save your wife. But know this."
She leans closer.
"When Blight's candidate appears and he will appear, you'll face a choice. Fight for Rhianelle and risk destroying her happiness in the process, or step aside and let her find the life she deserves."
Elli begins to fade, becoming translucent.
"You cannot fight fate forever, Svenn," she says as she disappears. "Even immortals must eventually yield to destiny's design."
"Wait—" I reach for her but my hand passes through empty air.
She's gone.
The clearing is empty except for me and the moon overhead. Silence presses in from all sides. The lullaby that drew me here has stopped.
I turn and retrace my steps through the forest. The path is different now, more direct. Within minutes I'm back at our camp.
