Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a syringe filled with a thick, clear liquid. He jabbed it into Trinton’s neck and pressed the plunger.
The effect was immediate. Trinton’s muscles went slack, his limbs falling limp as though a marionette’s strings had been cut.His mouth opened to scream, but no sound came, only a faint rasp that barely broke the silence.
Rell stepped back, watching with cold satisfaction as panic bloomed in Trinton’s darting eyes. His body fought against the paralysis, muscles trembling with futile effort.
Rell’s lips curled into a faint, satisfied smile. “Now, we’re going to have a little talk. And you’re going to listen very carefully... until you can’t listen anymore.”
He spun the knife lightly in his hand, the blade flashing as it turned. “Tell me, Trinton,” he began, his tone almost conversational. “Did you really think this little hideout on the outskirts would keep you safe? That a couple of guards would stop The Hive from finding you?”
Trinton’s eyes widened further, his pupils blown with terror.
“Maybe you convinced yourself that without an alchemist, we’d be lost. Maybe that’s what you told yourself when you ran.”
Rell leaned in closer, his face inches from Trinton’s, his eyes glinting with dark amusement.
“But you were wrong,” Rell continued, his voice dropping into a low, simmering growl. “No one betrays The Hive and walks away. Not after what you did. For the pain you caused, for the lives you ruined…”
His voice faltered briefly, a flicker of something raw slipping through before it hardened again. He leaned in further, his breath brushing against Trinton’s cheek.
“I’ll make sure you feel every second of it,” Rell whispered, his tone almost tender now, laced with malice. “I’ll make sure you suffer, just like she did.”
Trinton’s eyes welled with tears, his silent pleas for mercy unheeded as Rell straightened.
Rell reached into his coat, retrieving a second syringe. He held it up, tilting it slightly so the dim light caught the sinister amber liquid swirling within. The color glowed faintly, like fire trapped in glass.
“You see this? This isAbyss's Embrace,” he continued, as though explaining the finer points of a rare wine. “Very difficult to make. Almost impossible, actually.”
He let the words hang, his gaze locked on Trinton’s wide, frantic eyes. The man’s chest rose and fell faster now, the paralysis leaving him unable to do more than tremble under Rell’s unrelenting stare.
“Bet you thought you were selling out The Hive’s best alchemist,” Rell said, his smirk twisting into something colder. “Thought you’d leave us stranded, scrambling to replace what we lost. But here’s the thing.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. “You were wrong.”
Technically, Trinton hadn’t been wrong. The Hive had lost their best alchemist, a blow that had nearly crippled them. But that was why Elora had become so essential. When he had imagined this moment—his revenge—he’d known he couldn’t settle for some cheap trick poison from a street alchemist. He needed a professional. And he found one.
“This little concoction,” Rell murmured, tilting the syringe slightly, letting the liquid shift and shimmer, “it’s special. It will kill you slowly, eating away at you from the inside. But the real beauty of it? You’ll be haunted. Every ounce of pain you caused will come back to you. Every betrayal. Every life you ruined. You’ll feel it all.”
He paused, his tone sharpening like a blade. “You’ll feel whatshefelt. The fear. The pain. The desperation. Analise didn’t deserve what you did to her. But you do.”
If it had been anyone else, Rell might have granted a quicker death. But Analise meant too much to him to let her killer find peace in a swift end. Her skill with alchemy was unmatched, the meticulousness of her work baffling to Rell, who preferred more direct methods. But despite her delicacy with potions, she was anything but delicate herself. Rell knew she would have fought until her last breath.
Trinton’s eyes filled with tears, the raw terror and regret swirling together in their frantic gaze. Rell reveled in the moment, letting it stretch until the man’s panic was nearly palpable.
Without another word, Rell stabbed the syringe into Trinton’s neck, plunging the needle deep into his flesh. He pressed the plunger slowly, watching as the venomous liquid disappeared into the traitor’s veins.
The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the breeze outside. The paralysis poison held Trinton’s screams at bay, but the sheer terror etched into his face was enough to satisfy Rell. The frantic darting of his eyes, the glistening sheen of sweat on his forehead—it all spoke louder than words.
Rell leaned back, tucking the now-empty syringe into his coat. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he rose to his full height, looking down at the trembling, broken man before him.
“Enjoy the show, Trinton,”
Chapter 15
Elora
Elora sat on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked beneath her, the light of the room casting soft shadows along the walls. The enchanted ring spun slowly between her fingers, the faint glint of its metal catching the lantern’s flicker. She had been sitting like this for what felt like hours, the weight of her indecision pressing heavily on her chest.
It’s just a ring.
The thought had crossed her mind more times than she could count. She’d repeated it like a mantra, willing it to strip away the fear, the hesitation. It wasn’t a shackle. It wasn’t a weapon. It was just a ring.
