Chapter 55 #2
Before she could make sense of it, the woman yanked her up from the snow. The sudden movement sent the world spinning again, the trees blurring into dark streaks. Elara couldn’t help herself—she snickered, the sound spilling from her lips like a song she couldn’t stop singing.
The woman dragged her beneath the low-hanging boughs of a towering spruce, its thick branches dripping with snow and creating a secluded nook.
Then, without warning, the woman pushed her head back, fingers digging into her jaw and forcing her mouth open.
Elara gasped as she poured something into her throat—a thick, syrupy liquid that coated her tongue.
It tasted like rotting fruit, and burned as it slid down.
She choked, her body convulsing as the liquid forced its way deeper.
It was as if a switch had been flipped; the world snapping into focus. The swirling lights, the laughter, the haze—all of it peeled away. Her heart raced as she blinked, clarity flooding her senses.
Shit.
Elara spun around, nearly stumbling as she met Calista’s icy glare.
“Is this really all it takes to get you on your back?” Her scowl deepened as she tucked the vial of antidote into her bodice.
Heat flared through Elara, crawling up her neck. "Sorry if I’m not exactly well-versed in handling being drugged against my will."
The words slipped out before she could stop herself, and she instantly regretted them. Calista’s face twitched—just barely—but it was enough. A pang of guilt stabbed through her.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Drop it.” Calista’s tone was clipped, her voice cold. “Just stick with the plan, and it’ll all be over. Tonight.”
She could only nod, her throat tight as she watched Calista turn away, disappearing into the snowy evergreens.
Elara let out a breath, shame still coiled tightly within her as she pressed her back against the rough bark of a tree. The coarse texture scraped her skin, but she didn’t care. It was as good a place as any to hide, to catch her breath, and pull herself together before facing the madness to come.
Elara peeked around the trunk, her breath catching as a group of masked revelers staggered past. Her gaze then drifted upward, locking onto the shadowed balcony where Osin loomed. Any moment now, Calista would arrive, and she would need to—
A hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off the scream tearing up her throat. She was yanked backward, her body colliding with a solid chest. She clawed at the arm around her, her nails scraping skin as her body twisted and jerked.
“Shhh, El, it’s me.”
Elara froze, terror giving way to a rush of emotion.
The hand fell away from her mouth, and when she turned, there he was.
That shock of sandy hair, those honey-brown eyes she’d once memorized—the face she had trusted completely, recklessly.
But something was wrong. The warmth in his gaze had dulled, his face gaunt, with hard lines cutting through where laughter used to live.
Elara shook her head, struggling to process the sight of him. “Dario, I—”
But something in him just… broke.
“I’m sorry. Gods, El, I’m so damn sorry.” His voice cracked, the words spilling out like he couldn’t hold them back. “For all of it. For what I’ve done—what I failed to do. You weren’t supposed to end up here. You were supposed to stay safe in Verdara. It was my job to protect you, and I… I—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, her voice hard. But she didn’t pull away from him. She couldn’t. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much everything inside her screamed to move, to put distance between them, her body refused to listen.
“I should have… I know that now." He dragged a shaky hand through his hair, his gaze darting to the floor. “I thought—” He let out a harsh breath. “When Edgar brought me in to watch over you, I didn’t question it. I was following orders. I didn’t understand what the spell meant. Didn’t know what I was stepping into.
The first time I saw you, you were unconscious.
Edgar had me place the seal on you. Told me it was for protection—an extra layer of security, that’s all.
” A bitter laugh slipped from him. “I’d never worked with Druids before.
I didn’t realize how… wrong it was. Not at first.”
His hands curled into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening with the strain.
His face paled, voice breaking with something close to anger—or maybe shame.
“I asked him why. Why me? Edgar said it was because I was good. Because I was trustworthy. I thought I was doing the right thing. Thought I was helping you in the middle of something I didn’t understand.
He said that if you knew—if you found out—it would only make things worse. That it would put you at risk.”
“Did you use it against me?” she bit out. “When you touched me, when we were together—did you weaken me?”
His face fell, and something inside her shattered. Her jaw clenched so tightly she felt it pop.
“Only a few times. In the beginning. But never after that.” His gaze searched hers, desperate. “Once I understood what it meant… I couldn’t. I refused.”
He stepped closer, and she backed away, her heart splintering all over again. She had already known—but hearing it from his lips made it different. Made it real.
“Elara, please. We don’t have time. Hate me all you want, for the rest of your life—I deserve it. But right now, I’m getting you out. The Script Keepers… they’re closing in on the capital. Hundreds of them, and they’re here for you.”
A muscle feathered down his neck as he exhaled.
“I’ve been working with them since Mabon.
I’ve traveled across the realm, gathering what rebels I could.
Prince Dominic and his men—they’re all with us.
It took longer than I wanted. Every day I knew you were trapped here, and I—” He swallowed hard.
“Then the Hunter found me. Said I was wanted for treason. Told me Osin was feeling generous, and instead of the gallows, he’d let me conscript into the Legion, pay my debt that way. ”
He took a step closer to her, his eyes pleading. “It was my chance to get close to you. To put one more ally on the inside.” He shook his head. “I don’t have time to explain everything. But trust me… you’re not alone in this.”
Elara’s heart thundered, her mind reeling.
If Dario had truly been accused of treason, Osin wouldn’t have spared him—wouldn’t have let him draw another breath, let alone welcome him into his ranks.
No. It had been a lie. A calculated deception from Ivan.
He’d never told Osin about Dario’s rebellion.
Why? Why protect him?
She dragged her fingers through her hair, her nails scraping against her scalp as if the motion could pry the answers free. The question was too convoluted, too layered to unravel now. She exhaled sharply, steadying herself.
“I can’t leave with you.”
Dario’s brow furrowed. “Don’t be stubborn. You stay here, and you’re dead.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said, “Not until the Sidhe are free.”
“The Sidhe?” His voice was incredulous. “The Fae? Elara, no one can save them.”
“I can.”
A vein at his temple throbbed. He looked ready to argue—but then a flicker of light glinted off his armor.
His whole body went still.
Shit.
Elara bolted from the cover of the spruce, her eyes darting to the balcony. Osin was still there, lounging amidst a circle of sycophants, laughter curling through the air. Calista stood apart, her posture stiff as she slipped something—a small mirror—back into her bodice.
Their eyes locked.
Elara’s stomach twisted, her mind racing.
What?
Calista’s eye widened—intense, almost frantic.
This wasn’t the plan. Calista wasn’t supposed to signal until she was ready to leave with Osin. But something was off.
A bead of sweat slid down Elara’s neck as she held Calista’s stare, the realization crashing over her.
The dagger. Osin wasn’t carrying it.
That was the signal. Go. Now. Without her.
“El.” Dario’s voice was tight. His eyes scanned her face. “What’s going on?”
His words barely registered, drowned out by the pounding of her heartbeat and the shallow, frantic pull of her breaths.
She reached for the Draoth Cara, gripping the thread and tugging hard.
She had to rift to the east wing—to Osin’s chambers.
Calista had mapped out the basics for her.
She remembered it was close to his study.
The same study Ivan had dragged her to on that first day.
Her hands tingled, a faint numbness creeping into her fingertips as panic began to set in. She could do this alone. She had to.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Elara lifted her gaze to Dario. “I’ll leave with you. But only after I take care of what I need to. Only then.” A lie—but she was getting good at those lately.
Dario’s face went pale. “What did Osin do to you? What spell did he put you under?”
Elara sighed, her patience razor-thin. “Listen to me, Dario Voland, and listen well, or I swear I’ll knock you flat.” He blinked, startled. “I am not under any spell. I am not brainwashed. In fact, I’m clearer now than I’ve been in years—no thanks to you.”
She grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze.
“You owe me this.”
The fight drained out of him instantly. He closed his eyes. “Fine. Okay.”
Elara squeezed his chin gently. “I’ll find you—after.”
Another lie. She didn’t let herself feel it, didn’t allow a second thought. Instead, she pulled on the Draoth Cara, tugging the thread until a rift shimmered into existence.
Dario’s eyes widened, shock flashing across his face. He reached for her, but his figure blurred as she stepped through, the rift closing behind her.