Elora pressed her lips together, gripping the edge of the table as if the wood could steady her trembling hands. She didn’t answer.
“No name? Alright, I’ll just keep calling you sweetheart then,” he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Her head snapped up, anger flashing in her eyes and cutting through her anxiety. “Don’t call me that,” she said, her voice sharper than she intended.
Rell blinked, his smirk fading slightly. He held up his free hand in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Didn’t mean to upset you.” He leaned back in his chair. “So, what should I call you then?”
Her gaze flicked to the dagger still spinning between his fingers, its steady motion making her uneasy. She didn’t trust him—not his grin, not his charm, and certainly not the blade.
“Arria,” she said finally, her voice catching slightly on the name she’d borrowed from her lost friend.
Rell tilted his head, his smirk returning, softer this time. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arria.” He held out his hand, but when she didn’t move to take it, he let it fall, retreating with a faint flicker of disappointment that he quickly masked.
“What you doing in Ravenpoint?” When she stayed silent, he let out a huff, leaning his elbows on the table with an exaggerated sigh. “You’re kind of a buzzkill, you know.”
Good,she thought, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away again.Maybe you’ll get the hint.
But Rell didn’t seem inclined to leave. Instead, he studied her for a moment, his gray eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Hmm,” hesaid, dragging the sound out. “That’s fine. I’m not here to pry. Just saw you sitting all alone and figured you could use some company.”
Company.Yeah, that’s what Gerard wanted from her too. Her chest tightened as her eyes darted toward the tavern’s exit.
“Relax,” Rell said, his voice softening as if sensing her unease. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She froze, startled by his sudden shift in tone. He set the dagger down on the table with the blade pointing away from her.
Her frown deepened, suspicion flickering in her mind. The casual charm he’d wielded so easily before seemed tempered now, replaced by something quieter. His gaze met hers, earnest and steady. He didn’t look threatening anymore—just curious.
It threw her off.
If she were careful, maybe she could get some information out of him, something useful for her journey. “Are The Whispering Woods safe to pass through?”
The question barely left her lips before Rell’s posture stiffened.Was that a mistake?
“Definitely not. The Snatchers travel through those woods. They prefer to take children, but…” His smirk returned, more calculating now. “…a pretty woman like yourself? They could make a decent amount of coin off you.”
The Snatchers.
The name hit her like a fist, stealing the air from her lungs. The edges of her vision darkened as dread clawed its way up from the pit of her stomach. Memories she had buried long ago stirred to life: the cage, the stench of rot, the canopy of trees above as she lay on the brink of death.
Why would Tehvan tell me to go through those woods?Her thoughts spiraled, frantic. Had he not known? Or had things changed, the Snatchers turning the forest into new hunting grounds since her escape? But no—she knew that wasn’t true. Sherememberedthose trees and the howls of wolves waiting for a discarded corpse to feast on.
She pressed her thumb into her palm. She needed to calm down. She couldn’t let the ghosts of her past consume her now, not in this room full of strangers. Her breathing came short and shallow, and when she glanced up, she saw that Rell’s gaze hadn’t left her face. His sharp eyes studied her intently, as if trying to peel back the layers she was so desperately trying to hold together.
“You alright?” he asked, his tone surprisingly soft, lacking its earlier teasing edge.
Her bottom lip trembled, but she forced herself to nod. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She needed to leave. The walls of the inn, the noise of the crowd—it was all pressing in, making it impossible to breathe. “I need to go,” she said as she pushed herself up from the table.
Rell rose too, his movements fluid and unhurried, his presence looming as his shadow swallowed her smaller frame. “Enjoy your stay in Ravenpoint, sweetheart—er, sorry, Arria. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
He walked away, leaving her staring after him, her mind racing. Something about him didn’t sit right—the way he lingered, the way he looked at her. He didn’t feel like a simple passerby.
But for now, she was just glad he was gone.
She rushed up the stairs and locked herself in her room. The quiet enveloped her like a cocoon, but it didn’t bring relief. Shecollapsed onto the bed, curling into herself as if she could shut out the memories.
Sleep came eventually, but it wasn’t the escape she needed. As always, the nightmares followed.
Chapter 4
