Chapter 30 #2
Elara’s jaw tightened, teeth grinding in frustration. Tristan, of course, didn’t notice—or didn’t care. He spun on his heel, walking toward her with that same swagger that made her want to strangle him. She barely had time to react when he pulled something out of his pocket. Four vials. Stonebrew.
Her eyes widened in shock.
“I nicked these from your healer. Wasn’t easy.
You can thank me later,” he said, thrusting the vials into her hands with a wink.
Elara blinked, stunned for a moment, before gripping the vials tight to her chest. Relief swept through her, so fierce it nearly brought her to her knees.
Strength. She'd have it again. She wouldn’t be helpless for whatever was about to unfold.
The thought alone was like air in her lungs after drowning, her exhale trembling as if the weight of her fear had finally cracked open, releasing her.
But before she could even form a response, Tristan was already heading for the rift. And, like the insufferable fool he was, he fell backward into the abyss, arms outstretched, leaving her speechless.
Elara stood there for a moment in utter disbelief before shaking her head. "Is he always this irritating?"
Ivan’s lips twitched into a faint smile. "Always."
She popped open two vials and downed them without a second thought.
The change was instant. Her legs stiffened, her muscles locking into place, the shaking in her body finally stilling.
She drew in a deep breath, painless this time, the relief like cool water flooding her veins.
Yet, even as the tension melted from her body, she felt his gaze on her—tracing every movement like the burn of a brand pressed against her skin.
She despised it.
She straightened her spine, slipping the remaining vials into her corset. “Are you going to tell me why I’m here, or just keep gawking?”
The Hunter’s gaze didn’t waver. "I need to evaluate your bind."
"You already did that."
“I did,” he agreed, his arms crossing over his chest, “but I wasn’t able to… accomplish what I’d intended that day.”
Her gaze narrowed. "Which was?"
He didn’t respond right away, his jaw tight, like he was wrestling with the words before they finally came. “At the binding ritual… something shifted between us. But even before that…”
Elara’s heart skipped, her pulse a quickening rhythm.
She knew what he was talking about. That moment in the Hartling Forest—when she’d fought him, when the air between them had cracked and split with a force she still felt in her bones.
That shockwave, like a cord pulled too tight, snapping between them.
She hadn’t forgotten the way his power had crashed into hers, like it had been lying dormant, just beneath the surface, waiting for hers to touch it, ignite it.
She hadn’t let herself think about that day—hadn’t dared. Because to think about it meant admitting the truth, acknowledging that strange, dangerous pull that had flared to life after the fact.
Elara’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And now you’re here to, what, undo it?”
He tilted his head slightly, considering her words. “I’m here to understand what it means.”
'Understand it'. Sure, maybe only to then unravel it, to strip away the small, precious thread of power she held over him.
She rolled her eyes. “Right. Like I’m going to fall for that. From where I’m standing, I’ve got all the control. I can hurt you whenever I want. In fact…” Her lips twisted into a cruel smile as she squeezed the seal inside her.
The Hunter flinched, his face tightening, a vicious curse slipping through his teeth. “It would benefit us both.”
Her brows shot up, eyes flashing with contempt. “How do you figure that?”
“I wouldn’t be standing here if it didn’t.”
A bitter, cold laugh ripped from her throat.
“Of course. The great Hunter, only ever doing anything when it suits him.” Elara bared her teeth.
“I’m not going with you. Drag me if you want, throw me over your shoulder again.
I know you love playing the brute. But I’ll make sure every second of it is hell for you.
I’m not giving up an inch of control. Not to you. ”
“What do you want?”
Elara went very still. “What?”
The Hunter’s gaze didn’t waver. “What would it take? To get you to come with me?”
“There’s nothing—”
“Just try me.”
Her heart skipped a beat, the words dying on her tongue.
She narrowed her eyes, studying him, searching for the trap she knew had to be there.
“How do I know you’ll hold up your end of the deal?
You promise me now, but the moment we finish whatever hellish thing you’ve got planned, you’ll just back out? ”
His nostrils flared. “I’ll swear a blood oath. Here and now. If that’s what it takes to get you to come, I’ll do it.”
She blinked, utterly floored. She couldn’t hide the surprise flickering through her as she stared at him. Still unreadable, still cold as ever—but his words... desperate.
Interesting.
A little crack she could use if she played this right.
“I want Reynnar freed,” she said, testing the waters.
His shoulders tensed, the muscles rippling beneath his shirt as he crossed his arms again, his gaze hard as steel. “That’s not happening.” Elara opened her mouth to argue, but he lifted a hand, silencing her before she could get a word out. “I don’t control the fate of the captives.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Fine. But at least move the Sidhe into bigger cells—like Reynnar's. My tunnel’s nearly empty. Put them in with me. And don’t pack them in like livestock."
At least for now. Until she figured out how to get them out.
If the Hunter was surprised by her use of the word Sidhe, he didn’t let it show. His expression remained unreadable, though his eyes narrowed slightly, weighing her words. For a long moment, he just studied her, silent, and then, with a sharp inhale, he gave a curt nod.
Elara pushed her luck. “I want to see Godfrey. And I want information.” She kept it vague, leaving the request wide open so she could ask for whatever she needed later.
The Hunter’s shoulders tensed, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he exhaled sharply through his nose. “Anything else?” he bit out.
Her mind buzzed, thoughts spiraling, crashing over each other, all fighting for space.
If she could just find a way to get the Sidhe back to their world, to get the rebels and Godfrey out, it would be worth it.
Worth closing the chink in her bind. Worth losing the small sliver of power she had.
Freedom wasn’t in the cards for her—she wasn’t naive enough to believe otherwise—but if she could make sure they had a chance…
it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. It would be a bargain.
Elara shook her head. “So, how does this oath work?”
The Hunter’s steps were measured, slow, each one bringing him closer until he halted just out of reach.
His hand reached for the dagger at his belt.
“I offer you my blood,” he said, voice steady.
Without hesitation, he dragged the blade across his palm, crimson welling up from the cut.
“This is my oath to you, bound in blood. If I break it, this stone will crack. And with it, something inside me. I swear to move the Sidhe, give you access to Godfrey, and answer three questions of your choosing.”
“Ten questions,” she countered, crossing her arms.
“Three,” he repeated, unbending.
Her teeth ground together. Ten questions were what she needed, but if he got her in front of Godfrey, maybe three would be enough. Godfrey had worked for Osin for years, had rebel ties. He’d helped her once, tried to get her out of Verdara. He’d help her again—she was sure of it.
“Fine.”
Blood dripped down, rich and red where he held his hand over his chest, letting it pool briefly before it began to lift into the air, gathering itself like molten metal. Elara watched as it shimmered, glowing faintly, the blood twisting, and hardening into a dark, smooth stone.
Elara’s heart gave a small, uneven beat.
His presence, heavy and full of unspoken power, pressed against her.
The stone floated between them, and with a subtle twist of his wrist, a delicate cord of vines sprouted from it, weaving together in the air.
He didn’t touch it—he didn’t need to. With a call to the wind, the bloodstone drifted toward her, hovering just above her chest before settling directly over her heart.