“What is with all the screaming?”
Elora’s head snapped toward the door to see Violette standing there, her orange robe loose around her shoulders, her white hair falling in messy waves. Symond stood just behind her, his broad chest bare and loose pants slung low on his hips. His expression was smug and she couldn’t bear to look at him after the nightmare she just had.
Heknew. He had to know. The way his lips curled into a faint smirk made it clear… he was enjoying the idea that he had probably caused her nightmare.
Rell stepped between her and the others. “She had a nightmare. Go back to bed.”
Violette rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath as she turned and left. Symond, however, lingered, his smirk deepening as he leaned casually against the doorframe.
“Awe… poor, Elora” he drawled. “Tell me, was it—”
The door slammed shut with a sharpthud, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Rell stood there for a moment, one hand still on the door. Then he turned back to Elora, his expression softening slightly as he crouched down to her eye level.
“You’re still shaking,” he said, his eyes assessing the tremor in her shoulders and the way her knees pressed close to her chest making her appear small.
“I’m okay,” she lied. “Thank you.”
Rell nodded slowly, his eyes searching hers for a moment before he stood. “Try to get some more sleep.” He turned toward the door.
Sleeping alone was impossible, there was always someone else nearby, Arria, Amara, Tehvan. Somebody to keep the nightmares at bay.
“Wait,” she squeaked.
His hand stilled on the handle and he glanced back at her.
“Can you... stay?” she asked, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She felt like a child again, her vulnerability laid bare, but the alternative—being alone—was worse. Her gaze dropped to her hands as she added, “I just... I don’t want to be alone.”
Rell’s brow furrowing slightly. It was stupid to ask, really. She barely knew this man. But being alone with him, in this small roomwith the door closed, didn’t send alarm bells ringing. Didn’t make fear crawl up her spine.
Finally, he nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
He stepped out of the room, and for a moment, she swore the shadows were inching closer to her. But he returned quickly, a pillow and blanket tucked under one arm. Without a word, he set them down on the floor near the bed, arranging them into a makeshift sleeping spot. He stretched out, lying on his back with one arm behind his head and the other across his chest, completely unfazed by the lack of a mattress.
“After all this time being a sell-sword, I’ve never had to protect anyone from their own dreams.” He looked up at her without a hint of judgment. “It’ll cost you extra.” He winked.
When she didn’t acknowledge his witty comment, he added. “You’re safe. Go back to sleep.”
Elora hands tightening around the blanket. She still didn’t trust him, she didn’t trust anyone, but as her gaze drifted to the closed door, the thought of Symond lurking in the shadows sent a shiver down her spine.
She lay back down, pulling the blanket tightly around her. Her heart was still racing, but the steady sound of Rell’s breathing began to soothe her, a faint reminder that, for now, she wasn’t alone.
Chapter 11
Symond
Symond paced the length of the training room, his boots scuffing against the worn mats with each step. His hands flexed at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he muttered under his breath. The room was spartan, wooden dummies lined the walls, racks of training weapons stood at attention, and the faint smell of sweat clung to the air. None of it mattered. His thoughts were too loud, his frustration too sharp.
The door creaked open, and Rell sauntered in, his casual confidence practically filling the room. He rolled his shoulders as he shut the door behind him, his sharp gaze landing on Symond.
“You ready, or are you just going to keep pacing like that?”
Symond turned to face the mercenary. “I’m ready,” he snapped, moving to the center of the room.
Rell followed, shrugging off the black leather coat he always wore and tossing it onto a nearby bench. He rolled up his sleeves, his smirk lingering. The man always had a cocky grin that Symond wanted to smack off his face.
“Good. You’ve got a lot of energy to burn off. Let’s see if you can channel it into something useful.”
