Violette sighed, rubbing her temple. “Fine. She’ll stay here,” she said, her voice firm. “But locked up. I don’t want her roaming around and causing trouble.”
Rell exhaled through his nose, nodding reluctantly. They had no better option, and there was no time to argue. They had a job to do.
One by one, they moved to gather their gear. Rell slung his coat over his shoulders, checking the shards Elora had brewed earlier before tucking them safely into his belt. His knives were already in place, the familiar weight steadying him.
When he was all set to go, Rell stepped back into the common room and gently shook Elora’s shoulder. She stirred, blinking groggily as she looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.
“Rise and shine,” he said lightly. “We’re about to head out.”
For a moment, she just stared at him, her confusion plain. Then, with a soft groan that kind of sounded like “okay”, she sank further into the chair, pulling her arms tighter across her chest as though trying to burrow back into sleep.
Rell sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, no. Can’t risk you snooping around while we’re gone. You’ll have to be locked in your room until we’re back.”
Her eyes flickered open again, the haze of sleep gone in an instant. “Locked?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “But... why?”
He crouched slightly to meet her gaze, offering a faint, apologetic smile. “Sorry, Elora. But you’re an outsider here,” he said. “We can’t take any chances.”
For a moment, she looked offended, her lips parting as though to argue. But then her expression shifted to under-standing, or at least the semblance of it. Reluctantly, she stood, her arms wrapped loosely around herself and followed him out of the room without a word.
At her door, Rell pushed it open, gesturing for her to step inside. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Just get some rest.”
Elora lingered in the doorway. Her gaze swept over the familiar, impersonal room, the same one she’d woken up in earlier, its stark walls and sparse furnishings offering no comfort. Finally, she stepped inside, her back straight, refusing to look at him.
“Fine,” she said curtly.
Rell lingered, watching as she moved toward the bed. She sat on the edge for a second, then laid down stiffly, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Her silence was deafening, and he found himself searching for something to say, though no words came.
Why does this feel wrong?
He sighed quietly, raking a hand through his hair again. This was what they had agreed on, his protection in exchange for her cooperation. Leaving her locked up wasn’t ideal, but it was the only option. She wasn’t part of The Hive, and trust wasn’t something they gave freely.
Still, it felt like abandoning her. It didn’t sit well in his gut.
“Get some sleep,” he said finally. She didn’t respond, her gaze still fixed upward.
Rell stepped back, closing the door with a mutedclickbefore turning the lock. The sound felt heavier than it should have, like it echoed louder in his chest than in the hallway.
He exhaled and headed toward Violette and Symond, shaking off the unease curling in his gut. There was a mission to focus on now.
Chapter 13
Symond
The narrow passages of the city twisted like a maze, each turn pulling them deeper into Ravenpoint’s labyrinth of dark alleys and hidden routes. Symond kept pace behind Violette, his boots scuffing lightly against the uneven cobblestones. She moved with quiet precision, her silhouette barely distinguishable against the darkness of the night.
Symond glanced back briefly, catching the faint outline of Rell behind him. His presence was as unwelcome as ever, but tonight, Symond wasn’t about to let that distract him.
This was his mission. His chance.
The weight of it sat heavy on his shoulders, but he straightened under the pressure, forcing himself to focus. Each step forward was another toward proving himself—not just to Violette, not just to The Hive, but to himself. He needed this.Neededto succeed.
The city around him felt oppressive, its dense, looming structures blotting out what little light might have filtered through the clouded sky. There was no moon tonight, providing them the perfect cover.
Symond’s sense of direction faltered as they wove through the twisting alleys. He’d lost track of how many turns they’d taken, butViolette moved with purpose, her confidence in their route unshakable. He wasn’t about to ask for clarification.
They emerged from the claustrophobic passages into an open space, and Symond’s gaze immediately locked onto their target.
The manor stood out starkly against the surrounding buildings, its three-story height and imposing structure an unmistakable declaration of wealth and power. A sturdy metal fence encircled the property, its sharp iron tips catching faint glimmers of light from the lanterns carried by patrolling guards.
