Cillian wanted it to stop. He had always wanted to protect me… hadn't he? Today I saw him switch and I didn’t like what I saw.
But then a voice hissed in the back of my mind:
"Stop being naïve. I am the only one you can trust."
Now, as I waited for the Elorium’s arrival, the lingering sounds of the music faded into silence, and with them, the voices in my head slowly began to rise. I hummed softly to drown them out. I didn’t need to listen, neither to that voice nor to any of the others.
A susurration rose from the portraits again. They weren't just watching me; they were waiting. Their intention was to convey their power and wisdom to me and to assist me in the difficult choices ahead.
Sensing a distinct change in the energy around me, I knew the Elorium was getting closer.
“They’re almost here,” I said, looking toward the door.
As the words left my mouth, the doors burst open, and Fionn walked in first. His movements were quick. The warmth I had glimpsed in him during the dance was gone. He had returned to the version of himself I had first met, cold and distant. I couldn’t stop wondering if, deep down, he wanted me to stop the curse or if he preferred to watch me slip into darkness from the sidelines.
Behind him, Cillian followed, gripping the Elorium by her wrist—too tightly. His knuckles were white, his jaw clenched, and his eyes still carried that strange dark sheen I couldn’t shake from my mind.
It should have wrapped me in a comforting cocoon of warmth and protection. Instead, it felt like a warning signal that nothing good would come from this.The Elorium had already triedto drain the life from me, so what would stop her from doing it again?
“Don’t worry,” Cillian said reassuringly. Namarelle has agreed to help us.”
I turned to him, drawn in despite myself. Cillian had always been gentle with me. He had been kind in ways the others had not, offering his warmth where they had provided warnings.
I found comfort in him—in the poetic way he spoke and in the romantic view he had of the world.
But now, as he stood there, gripping the Elorium as if he wanted to crush her bones, he felt off.
Beneath that practised softness, he was cracking. Was I mistaking his control for kindness? It was hard to tell.
"Namarelle?" I said, lifting an eyebrow. I was surprised that this fearsome creature had such an elegant name.
"Tilly, it’s not only humans that have names,"Torin said.
I turned my gaze towards Namarelle’s face, her vast emerald, doll-like eyes fixed unblinkingly on me. The air felt cold in her presence. Her red hair draped down her back in a dense curtain, and the sheen of her skinwaslike milky candle wax. I was fascinated yet repelled by her. While Cillian and the others weren’t human, they were stillhuman-like.Namarelle bore no resemblance to any creature I had ever seen before.
At that moment, Fionn moved closer, his arms crossed, and his eyes caught mine.
"Enough waiting. Let’s begin." His gaze never left mine as his arms dropped to his sides.
I should have turned away. That was the logical and safer thing to do. Ignore him and pretend itdoesn't matter. Pretend hedoesn't matter. But Ididn't.
I held hisgaze andcouldn't stop wondering what the voices were saying to him right now. Did he stillwantme dead?
Torin's soft chuckle broke the tension. "Looks like Fionn's finally found someone who doesn’t crumble under that stare of his. Lovely, this ought to be entertaining," he teased.
Seraphina silenced him with a single sharp look, her expression composed thenshe turned her gaze to me.
"The Elorium Order holds immense power. Today, we place our hope in her kind, trusting she will guide you and reveal the path to the one you must bind yourself to.Hopefully, this prophecy can be broken.
This is our chance to see what will happen, our opportunity to know if fate can be defied. If she succeeds, perhaps we can salvage everything…once and for all.
"A guide?"I shot back,my voice filled with doubt.
How can I trust herpower when she tried to kill me? The path ahead seems even more dangerous with her here"
My mouth went dry beneath her unblinking stare. I felt a momentary unease when Cillian released her hand, yet her composure remained placid,so different from the terror I'dfelt in the cellar. Slowly, I began to steady myself.
A strange energy filled the room as she stepped toward me and began speaking in a rapid, singsong chant that reminded me of French spoken by a chipmunk. The closer she approached, the more her eyes bore into me until I felt her presence in my mind.
