“Yes, I know.” Abernathy snarled. “Underground groups, rebels… Any number of fools would gladly take her in.”
He let the thought hang, but the weight of his words settled over the room. The implications were clear. A breach like this wouldn’t just embarrass The Institute; it could ignite unrest in the outer regions, even incite another rebellion like the one that had nearly toppled The Empire generations ago. Control was everything and a runaway ward opposed that. It was a humiliation not only for The Institute and The Thorn Family, but for The Gilded Empire itself.
Tehvan didn’t care about any of that, though. All that mattered was reuniting with Elora and getting her as far away from this damnable place as possible.
He set the note back on the desk. “And if they find her?” he asked carefully, watching Abernathy’s reaction.
He moved to the bar cart, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He didn’t answer immediately, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before taking a long sip. “They’ll question her,” he said finally. “Learn everything about my experiments, and then they’ll seize my research for themselves. We must retrieve her before they do. And she must be silenced.” Abernathy’s tone was as cold as the glass in his hand.
He had already sent guards to Ravenpoint, though Tehvan had ensured their efforts would only lead to dead ends. But the Empire’s troops were another matter. He couldn’t interfere with them. All he could do now was pray that Elora followed the plan he had laid out for her.
“We already have a unit hunting her in Ravenpoint,” Tehvan said carefully. “What more do you suggest?”
Abernathy’s lips curled into a smile that sent a chill through him. “Way ahead of you, brother,” he said. “I’ve hired the best bounty hunter in the region to track her down. She won’t slip through his fingers.”
Tehvan’s jaw tightened, but he forced himself to nod. Inside, his thoughts churned with doubt. A bounty hunter. She was clever, resourceful, but she was also tired, inexperienced, and vulnerable. Had he asked too much of her? If she faltered, if she stumbled even once, this hunter would find her. And then it would all be over.
Chapter 5
Elora
The faint light of dawn barely touched the horizon when Elora stirred, the restless churn of her thoughts pulling her from sleep. She sat up, her body aching from the uneven mattress, and glanced toward the window. The city was still cloaked in darkness, the streets likely empty save for the occasional drunkard or baker starting their day. It wasn’t much of an advantage, but it was all she had.
She had to keep moving.
Staying here any longer was too dangerous. If anyone from the tavern last night had recognized her—or worse, tipped off the imperial guards—they could already be on their way.
She shoved her few belongings into her satchel, her fingers working quickly, but the soft clang of metal stopped her cold. Her heart sank. Slowly, she reached into the bag and pulled out the enchanted ring.
Sparks of faint electricity danced across its surface, flickering briefly before disappearing behind the shimmering gold veneer that flowed like a river on the surface. She remembered Thorn using it, the feeling of the shocks deep in her body as he shocked her, forcing her to transform. But she hadn’t dared to use it on herself. Not yet anyway. It was the only way she knew how to shift,but she couldn’t bear the thought of deliberately doing what Thorn had done to her.
Mistake. Abomination.
Viliam’s words came back to her. She knew he didn’t mean it as an insult. His sorrow-filled eyes told her he felt sorry for her. She didn’t want to believe him, but he would know best. She was an abomination now. She wasn’t fully human anymore and whatever Thorn had turned her into; she couldn’t help but fear it.
The sparks from the ring stung her palm, a sharp reminder of what it could do. She should wear it, she knew. If she ran into trouble, it could save her life. It could make her faster, stronger, more capable. But she couldn’t bring herself to slide it onto her finger.
She dropped it into her pocket instead. It would stay there, close enough to grab if she needed it but far enough that it wouldn’t touch her skin. She told herself she wouldn’t need it. She prayed she wouldn’t need it.
Elora slung her satchel over her shoulder, casting one last glance around the small room before slipping out the door. The inn was silent, the common room below still dark. The moment she stepped into the shadowed alleyways Ravenpoint was known for, the chill morning air hit her, mingling with the damp mist that clung to the streets. She kept her hood low, her eyes darting to every shadow, every creak of wood or faint shuffle in the distance. The city still slumbered, but her nerves refused to let her relax.
She kept to the narrow paths, the places where light couldn’t quite reach. Her instincts whispered that this could be a mistake, that the silence left her exposed in ways a bustling crowd wouldn’t.But her need to keep moving outweighed the risk. She couldn’t afford to stay in one place.
But then, a voice from behind her cut through the quiet.
“Where are you off to this early, Elora?”
She froze mid-step, her blood running cold. Slowly, she turned.
The man from the tavern, Rell, stood a few paces behind her, his silhouette framed by the faint light spilling in from the alley entrance. His gray eyes gleamed in the half-light, a smirk playing on his lips as if he’d caught her in the middle of something amusing.
She opened her mouth, ready to offer some excuse, when the realization hit.
She had never told him her real name.
A pit formed in her stomach, the weight of it threatening to keep her locked in place.
“How do you know my name?” Her hand hovered over the pocket with the ring buried inside.
