9. Elara
9
ELARA
T he cell feels colder, or maybe it’s dread sinking deeper into my bones. I sit on the smooth stone floor with my knees pulled to my chest. Across from me, I hear the Zmaj warrior pacing the confines of his cell. The rasp of his tail as it drags across the stone, his low growls, and occasional hisses set the tone.
I count his trips back and forth. Every third time he grabs the door and tries to break free in a fit of fury. The rattling doesn’t change, giving no hint that it might give.
“Are you ever going to stop pacing?” I ask quietly, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear that claws at my chest with icy fingers.
He halts and the silence is somehow worse. It takes my breath away. My chest constricts and it’s much harder to inhale than it should be.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he growls, voice deep as the caverns we’re trapped in.
“No kidding,” I murmur.
“I came for you,” he says, voice scraping raw across my skin, like he’s confessing a sin he can’t take back.
His eyes burn into mine, fierce, almost angry, like he’s daring me to doubt him.
My breath catches. My knees nearly go with it.
I blink. He’d said that before but I thought I must not have heard him right. Why would he come for me? I’ve seen him around, but it’s not like I know him and he doesn’t know me. There were five of us human females who agreed to come on this mission for Rosalind. Maybe he means one of them? If so I’m no help because I don’t know where they are. I hope, almost beyond any reason, that they are okay. I swallow, shake my head, then push to my feet.
“What?” I ask, voice rasping.
I grab onto the bars and pull myself up so I can peer out the barred window. His eyes burn from across the hall. The flickering light of the torch reflects off his scales and horns.
“You,” he repeats, his own voice hoarse. “I came for you.”
“Why?” I ask, confusion mixing with my speeding heart.
My arms tremble and I can’t hold myself up any longer. I drop and my ankle throbs, less than it has been. The door is as smooth as the stone floor. It feels like wood, but wood is almost as rare on Tajss as water so I doubt it’s really wood. Probably something else.
That’s right. Think about the door, Elara. Smart. Never mind what the Zmaj said. That’s not nearly as important as what the fuck this door is made of.
“You know,” his deep voice fills my cell, bouncing off the stone walls. “I’ve been watching you, Elara,” he admits. “When some of the other females escaped these animals… the stories they told…”
His voice is low, controlled, but there’s something wild beneath it.
“For me?” I ask, voice trembling.
I press my hands against the door to steady myself. A tremor passes through every muscle; it’s all I can do to stay upright.
“Of course,” he says.
Simple. As if that explains everything. He came for me, but why? I’m not special. I’m not like a Council member or something. It doesn’t make any sense that he would come for me.
“That doesn’t explain why,” I say.
“Mine,” he growls.
I gasp as my knees fail. I grab the bars barely fast enough to keep myself from collapsing onto the floor. The way he said that single word… a claim… a possessing… but more. My heart races so fast I’m light-headed. Muscles remembering their purpose and duty, I straighten but the spinning doesn’t quit.
“You don’t know me,” I say, shaking my head.
“I do,” he says. “I’ve always known you.”
My heart lurches. Stupid heart. What is wrong with me?
“What?” I ask, which is a stupid question.
A stupid word even. What? It’s clear what he thinks. Why did I ask that? I’m flabbergasted. Showing up here, at the absolute scariest and worst moment of my life out of nowhere and laying a claim on my heart and soul isn’t something that should be happening. What, is this some crazy ass Earth rom-com vid?
This is my life. My real, messy life—and it doesn’t work like those stupid Earth rom-com vids. No one comes charging in to save you, no matter how bad things get.
Sometimes, if you’re lucky, someone stands with you. Fights beside you. But not this. There’s no hero riding in on a white dragon. And besides, damn it, I’m no damsel in distress.
...Aren’t I?
If this isn’t distress, then what is? What plan do I even have to survive this? No. I’m not that girl. I won’t be. But somewhere deep—too deep—I feel it. That flicker. That dangerous, aching want. I like it.
The way he looks at me, like I matter. Like I’m worth crossing a battlefield for. It makes me feel… special.
It makes me feel seen.
And it leaves me flushed, trembling, shamefully wet.
“Tell me you don’t feel it ,” he says, strangely emphasizing and dragging out the single syllable of it, giving the simple word an entirely new dimension.
“I…” I what? Don’t? That’s a lie. I do feel something. Is what I feel ‘it’ or is it something else? I don’t know… I need to steer this somewhere else. Somewhere that makes sense. “How did you get here?”
“Heh,” he huffs. “I tried to sneak in. I am not… good at that.”
“You think?” I snort and he laughs too. “But wait… you came alone?”
That doesn’t make sense.
“I did,” he says, speaking softly.
The Zmaj always patrolled in at least pairs. The entire time we’ve been here with the Cavern Zmaj I’ve never seen one of them go beyond the perimeter of their compound alone. Ever.
“You disobeyed orders,” I say, realization dawning.
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation, no shame. Only certainty. “I couldn’t wait any longer. The thought of you still here…” he growls. “I couldn’t leave you here, not knowing if you were okay.”
I swallow hard. The weight of his words presses into me, mingling with the lingering fear that never fully leaves in this city.
Before I respond, heavy footsteps echo down the corridor. I hear the Zmaj shifting as the boots of the Urr’ki guards approach. I pull myself up to peer through the window. The corridor is filled by six guards, blocking any other sight. I spy Z’leni among them. He looks over his shoulder as they line up at the Zmaj’s cell. He blinks but his eyes are colder than before. My stomach knots, goosepimples spread over my skin.
“Get away from the door,” one of them orders.
“Come and make me,” the Zmaj snarls.
It’s reckless, but expected. He lunges as they open the door, taking two guards down before the others swarm in.
“Stop! Let him be!” I scream.
Someone chuckles and then I see him. A Maulavi stands at the edge of my line of sight. He is watching my door, staring at me with a malicious grin twisting his mouth.
Blood spatters the stones as the Zmaj roars. He continues fighting but he’s already wounded and weakened. It isn’t long before they pin him to the ground and bind his wrists and ankles with heavy shackles.
“Stop it!” I shout, rushing to the bars.
The Maulavi steps closer, face shadowed beneath his hood.
“Bring him. And her,” he adds, eyes boring into me.
“No—” I gasp, backing away.
Two guards roughly grab my arms and yank me from the cell. I resist, trying to dig my feet but the smooth stone gives no purchase. I slide out of the cell. The Zmaj looks over his shoulder and yells something but I’m screaming and can’t hear him over it.
The two guards shift their grips, sliding up my arms until they’re hooked under my armpits then they lift me off my feet. The corridors blur as I’m carried along, heart pounding, my kicks and struggles ineffective. They take us deeper, past areas I’ve never seen, until we enter a wide, dark chamber lit by twelve torches mounted along the walls.
My heart skips and my throat tightens when I see the thing in the center of the room. It’s a crude rack made of bone and iron. Sharp spikes cover its surface. The thing is massive. Clearly designed with the shape and frame of a Zmaj in mind. The Zmaj struggles as they strap him onto the rack. Blood trickles from his lip, but his eyes are fixed on me, wildly defiant.
“What is this?” I demand, my voice rising.
The Maulavi approaches, calm and menacing.
“He’s here because of you. Because you hold secrets.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He smiles faintly, sighing. He shakes his head, shrugs, then looks back at the Zmaj before returning his cold, dead eyes to me.
“We both know that isn’t true, don’t we? Tell me, human, where is the Queen? Where are the others who escaped?”
My pulse stutters. He thinks I know. He thinks I’ve been part of something larger… I splutter. The truth of why I’m here lodges in my throat. The Maulavi gestures, and a guard drives a spike into the Zmaj’s side. He grunts but doesn’t scream.
“Stop!” I cry, pulling against the guards restraining me.
“Where is she?” the Maulavi asks again.
“I don’t know!”
More pain for the Zmaj and blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. He shakes his head once at me, a silent warning.
“You see? It is as I expected,” the Maulavi says, circling the rack, “he is willing to suffer. But are you willing to let him?”
The Zmaj glares at me, as if daring me to stay silent, but the weight of it crushes me. My mind races, what do they think I know? I don’t even know who the Queen is, let alone where she is. The first I knew of any humans escaping was from the interrupted conversation I was just having. He demands secrets I don’t even know.
“I told you, I don’t?—”
A whip cracks across the Zmaj’s chest. I flinch.
“That’s enough!” I scream.
The Maulavi stops stalking around the rack. For a moment, the room stills.
“You admit you know something, then,” he says, voice soft but sharp as a blade.
“No, I?—”
But the Maulavi only smiles.
In my heart, I realize this was never about the Zmaj. This is about control. About breaking me. About reminding me that in this place, mercy is weakness. And still, as I look into the warrior’s burning eyes, I know I cannot break.
The air is thick and oppressive, as though the walls themselves press in. The Zmaj’s eyes lock onto mine. Steady, burning. Even now, bound, tortured, and bleeding, he’s a force of nature, refusing to bend. Refusing to let me be swallowed whole by this place.
The tremor in my chest isn’t just fear anymore. It’s something deeper, something that smolders in the pit of my stomach and leaves my limbs weak. The way he strains against the iron biting into his wrists, the way his teeth clench as blood drips from the fresh wounds along his ribs, he fights like my life is worth everything.
“You will not touch her,” he growls, voice ragged but fierce.
The Maulavi looks from him to me then back. A slow smile spreads over his face but there is no humor in it. I’ve never seen a smile so cold, so empty of anything but the darkest of intent. The Maulavi gestures, a lazy motion of his hand, an almost dismissive wave.
The two guards tighten their grip on my arms. So tight it feels as if they intend to break my arms. Across the room Z’leni frowns, his jaw tightening, but despite the tension, he doesn’t move. Silently I plead with my eyes, or try to as they drag me towards another device in the corner. A grotesque iron cage set with jagged, rune-etched bars that looks like it rises out of and is almost part of the shadows. I twist against the guards’ grip, but their claws are unforgiving.
“No,” the Zmaj roars again, muscles bunching, chains creaking under the strain. His eyes flash, wild and unrelenting.
“Enough,” snaps the Maulavi. “You cannot save her.”
A low growl rumbles from Z’leni’s chest. He steps forward — not fast, not loud — but the guards immediately stiffen, hands tightening on their weapons.
Z’leni.
The air sharpens, like everyone just realized there’s a predator in the room.
There’s something calculated in his measured breath and there is a storm brewing in his eyes. His sharp black armor blends with the shadows, but his presence cuts through the tension like a blade.
“She is not meant for this,” Z’leni says, his tone soft but edged in steel. “You jeopardize the Shaman’s purpose.”
One of the guards shifts his weight, a half-step forward—then freezes, uncertain. His gaze darts to the Maulavi, waiting for a cue that doesn’t come. No one moves. The tension cracks like ice underfoot. Even the Maulavi’s amusement falters.
“You presume to know the Shaman’s purpose, warrior?” The Maulavi’s voice slithers like oil.
“I know his purpose is not to break what is needed whole.”
For a heartbeat, the chamber holds its breath. The Maulavi tilts his head, eyes narrowing.
“And yet…” he says, circling around me like a vulture, but there’s something different in his gaze now. His eyes dart between Z’leni and me. Z’leni steps subtly closer, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. His stance is relaxed but undeniably ready.
“If you damage her beyond reason,” Z’leni continues, “we gain nothing.”
The Maulavi hums, a sound too casual for a man who moments ago watched suffering with bored delight. He meets Z’leni’s gaze without flinching but I couldn’t say who’s in control right now. Finally the Maulavi turns away from Z’leni and walks across the room.
“Very well. Take her to the lower chambers.”
The guards’ grip loosens but doesn’t release entirely.
My pulse races. I glance back at the Zmaj, still pinned, his chest heaving as blood drips steadily to the floor. Yet his gaze never leaves me. His eyes burn, wordlessly shouting the things neither of us can say.
But then I glance at Z’leni. His posture is stiff, controlled. There’s something protective in the way he watches the guards manhandling me. Something territorial. As they drag me toward the exit, Z’leni silently falls in behind them.
The Maulavi returns his attention to the bound Zmaj.
“Do not fret,” he says with chilling ease. “You will have your turn.”
As the heavy door slams shut behind me, Ryatuv’s defiant eyes find mine. His gaze sears into me, a burning brand I feel in the hollow of my chest. I swallow hard, pulse hammering against my ribs.
I’m led down a dimly lit corridor. The flickering torches cast eerie shadows along the stone walls. My heart slams in my chest as the guards push me forward. Z’leni walks silently at my side, every step exuding that unnerving calm.
Finally, after winding through narrow passageways, they stop at a smaller chamber. The door creaks open to reveal a dark space. Z’leni waves a hand, and the guards nod before leaving us alone. The door clicks shut. The silence stretches, pressing on me.
“You didn’t have to stop them,” I manage, voice strained.
He turns slowly, arms crossed over his chest. His horns catch the torch light, casting long, predatory shadows.
“Didn’t I?” he says, voice low. His hand brushes the doorframe — a casual touch, but it feels like he’s claiming the space between us.
I should be grateful, relieved, but confusion swirls, tangled with a flickering spark of resentment. I’m used to fending for myself, yet… seeing him speak against the Maulavi, seeing him step between me and pain, makes something inside me stir. Not warmth, exactly. Something sharper.
“You can’t protect me forever,” I whisper.
“Perhaps not,” he says, narrowing his dark eyes. “But I will protect what I must.”
There’s something pointed in his words.
“Why?” I ask, trying to keep the tremor from my voice.
His jaw flexes. He moves closer, each step deliberate, until he’s only a breath away. I feel the heat radiating from him, smell the sharp scent of steel and earth.
“Because you are not theirs,” he says simply.
My breath catches.
“You think I’m yours?” I challenge.
Something flickers in his eyes—pride, possession, frustration—but before he can answer, the echo of the Zmaj’s roar from the other chamber crashes through my thoughts like a wave. Z’leni notices. His gaze hardens, jaw tightening.
“He will die for you,” he says flatly. “But his death won’t save you.”
My heart hammers louder. There is something in his words. Something I can’t quite put my finger on because it can’t be what it seems to be. Can it?
Between them, something is brewing. A rivalry I can’t believe is true, but I feel it. The way Z’leni positions himself close, protective yet territorial. The way the Zmaj’s every action screams that I am his to save.
And me? I’m caught between them, emotions a snarl of gratitude, fear… and something dangerously close to longing. I take a step back. Z’leni lets me, but his eyes follow every movement.
“You should rest,” he says, voice gentler but no less possessive. “You’ll need your strength.”
Some broken, desperate part of me wants to lean into him. Another part remembers the cage door slamming shut behind me. Neither side wins. Not yet.
I retreat further into the chamber, but my heart is tangled in the dark threads connecting the three of us.
And in that moment, I know nothing will ever be simple again.