chapter fourty-four
elysia
The fire burns low and steady at the heart of the ruined temple, its glow licking across scorched stone and fractured murals.
Snow slips quietly through the cracks in the domed ceiling, melting into soft hisses when it meets the embers.
Bedrolls and small canvas tents ring the hearth in a loose circle, makeshift shelters against the cold.
The last of the soup is finished, and the quiet satisfaction of full bellies begins to settle in.
Varo sits opposite me, shoulders relaxed as a small ukulele rests against his thigh.
His fingers move with quiet focus, plucking and strumming as he practices the same gentle melody again and again.
It isn’t polished yet, there are pauses and minor corrections, but the tune itself is warm and lilting, the kind meant to soothe restless thoughts.
A lullaby, if I had to guess.
Sirena tilts her head as she listens along with everyone, a soft smile on her face, then she reaches for Thane’s hand without a word. He glances up at her with a quirked brow as she pulls him to his feet, but the moment she steps in close and begins to sway, something instinctive takes over.
They fall into motion as if the music was written for them, fluid and effortless. Sirena spins beneath his arm, laughter spilling from her lips, and Thane follows her lead with a grace that feels less learned and more remembered.
“Are they where you got your impeccable dance moves from?” I tease, leaning into Kaden’s side.
“Yes, unfortunately.” He takes a sip from his canteen, then gently shakes his head. “Every annual ball they forced me into dancing with them.”
A chuckle works up my throat as I chew my last bite of bread, swallowing it down with a sip from my canteen.
Sirena casts a mischievous look over her shoulder at everyone. “Come on,” she calls, beckoning with her fingers. “You all going to just sit there?”
Cole doesn’t last five seconds.
“Oh, I’m all for a good dance,” he says, already on his feet.
He steps in with the agility of a baby deer and instantly lands on Sirena’s foot, eliciting a small yelp from her mouth.
He apologises frantically as he rights his footing, and despite the scowl she tries to plaster on, her amusement breaks through as she smiles at him a second later with a chuckle.
Brynn is his next victim; he snags her wrist with a grin far too pleased with himself.
She resists, stiff and unimpressed, until he spins the wrong way and stumbles into her.
Her laugh escapes before she can stop it, and just like that, she’s correcting his steps, muttering instructions under her breath as she dances circles around him.
The music grows steadier beneath it all, Varo’s fingers gaining confidence as the melody finds its rhythm and steps fall in line with each strum of strings.
Odette and Enzo join without prompting, their movements light and playful before shifting into exaggerated flair and dramatic turns. Laughter fills the temple, echoing up into the broken dome where stars peek through the cracks like curious onlookers.
Then Ronan steps in with a boyish grin on his face as he reaches for Odette’s hand and spins her smoothly away from Enzo.
Ronan twirls her once, then twice, his grip sure and much more practised than everyone else.
Odette’s laughter softens, a flush creeping up her neck as she looks up at him, breathless and doe-eyed.
Enzo grins as he turns toward me instead.
“Your turn,” he says, already reaching for my hand.
Before I can protest, he’s pulling me to my feet and guiding me into the circle, spinning me beneath his arm. I laugh, trying to find the rhythm amid the tangle of moving bodies and stomping boots, matching steps where I can and making up the rest as I go.
Sirena steals me from Enzo a few minutes later, shooing him away with a laugh as she catches my hand and spins me beneath her arm. The faint scent of moonlillies clings to her every movement, and for a moment we’re laughing like schoolgirls at a dance, careless and unburdened.
“So,” she says, twirling neatly beneath my arm, “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure,” I reply easily. “What is it?”
She smiles, soft and unguarded. “I want you to be my maid of honour.”
The words hit me like a physical force. My heart swells so fast it almost hurts, emotion clogging my throat.
“In the eight months I’ve known you,” she continues quietly, “I’ve felt more comfortable and connected to you than I have with anyone else in my life—other than Thane and Kaden.
” She pauses, voice thickening. “You’re my best friend, Elysia.
And if anyone is going to stand beside me when I marry the love of my life… I want it to be you.”
Tears blur my vision.
“I want you to be by my side at the altar,” she finishes softly. “Will you?”
I don’t even think. I pull her into my arms before she can blink, hugging her tight as my chest aches with it.
“Of course I will,” I whisper, voice breaking. “It would be my honour.”
Laughter carries through the temple around us as we hold each other. When we finally pull apart, Sirena is flushed and breathless beside me, eyes dancing with a happiness I’ve only ever seen radiate from her and her alone.
“Gods, that was more emotional than I thought it would be.” She gasps, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
I chuckle and wind my arm through hers, guiding us to the edge of the circle so we can sit down and catch our breath.
Across the hearth, Varo’s tune softens and slows as he fumbles through the last few notes.
The music fades into the low crackle of fire and the murmur of voices settling back into something calmer.
Bodies sink to the floor as the tune ends, and canteens are passed around while chatter continues between everyone.
That’s when I see them.
It’s only a flicker at first, caught in the corner of my eye as I turn my gaze towards the fire.
Eris is seated beside Kaden, posture relaxed and knees angled just slightly toward him as she finishes her soup.
Kaden, on the other hand, is rigid.
His shoulders are tight, his jaw is locked and his attention is fixed somewhere past the fire rather than on her. The bond hums faintly between us, carrying with it a subtle edge of tension and reservation… discomfort even.
She laughs softly at something, then her fingers trail up Kaden’s forearm in a sensual and familiar motion, like she’s testing a memory she thinks still belongs to her.
Something ugly and hot detonates in my chest and heat floods my veins irrationally with every pulse. Small sparks of fire crackle at my fingertips before I force the embers to die out.
Her hand lowers as she makes her way down his arm, every muscle in his body tensing impossibly more as he mutters something to her from between his teeth. Whatever it was he said, she ignores it and slides her hand onto his thigh.
Something in me snaps and before I put too much thought into it, I lock my gaze onto her lap and release a pulse of tidal influence, barely more than a nudge.
Eris’s bowl tips.
Soup sloshes violently over the rim, spilling across her lap and soaking into her fighting leathers. She gasps, yanking her hand back from Kaden quicker than a blink, cursing under her breath as she scrambles to her feet.
“Fuck—”
She sets the empty bowl aside with more force than necessary, and stalks toward her tent, shoulders tight and muttering as she goes.
Triumph blooms in my chest and a slight smirk tilts at my lips as I watch her retreat. With smug satisfaction now coursing through my veins, I turn back toward Sirena, schooling my expression just as my eyes catch Kaden’s.
A slow smirk curves his mouth, something knowing glinting behind his eyes. Familiar fingers brush my mind, then his voice fills my head.
“Subtle.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His deep chuckle echoes through my mind, “Of course you don’t.” A pause. “Jealousy looks good on you, Moonfire.”
“I’m not jealous.”
His sultry chuckle caresses my mind, “Then you just look good.”
Heat crawls up my neck, but before I can respond Enzo’s voice catches my attention as he lets out a dramatic groan from across the fire, clasping his hands together as if in prayer.
“Noctis take me,” he laments. “That smells so fucking good. Please, Sirena. Just one bite. I’ll owe you.”
She snorts and takes a deliberately slow bite out of her second cinnamon bun, humming with exaggerated pleasure as she chews and tears off a small piece before turning to me, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Would you like some?” she asks sweetly, holding it out.
“Thank you,” I sing-song, accepting the offer and popping it into my mouth, savouring the sweet flavour as it melts against my tongue.
“Oh, come on,” Enzo groans, arms thrown wide. “You let Elysia have some but not me? She didn’t even ask nicely!”
Sirena only shrugs, wholly unapologetic, finishing the bun with a satisfied smile.
A comfortable quiet settles in, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the distant sigh of wind slipping through the cracks in the dome.
“So,” Cole says after a moment, passing Varo another questionable waterskin, “how’s your little girl?”
Varo’s expression softens instantly as he takes a sip. “She’s good. Really good.” A fond smile tugs at his mouth. “She’s been obsessed with music and lullabies lately. It’s the only thing that gets her to sleep.”
Cole nods toward the ukulele resting beside him. “Hence the new addition?”
“Yeah,” Varo chuckles. “I promised I’d learn her favourite lullaby while I was away. Starting to regret that promise now. Playing this thing is a lot harder than it looks.”
“I thought you sounded great,” Ronan offers easily, his arm draped over Odette’s shoulders.
Varo snorts. “Then you must be tone-deaf. That was my worst attempt yet.”
Edric scoffs. “I don’t know. Compared to a few weeks ago, I’d say you’ve come a long way. When you first started, every note sounded like a fork scraping on porcelain.”
Laughter ripples around the fire and Varo runs a hand through his short hair, shaking his head with a smile.
“The other night she froze her bottle of milk right after I’d made it for her.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I think she just got too excited, one minute the milk was warm and ready, then as she wrapped her tiny hands around the bottle, the whole thing froze.”
“What did you do?” Brynn asks softly.
“Panicked,” he admits with a laugh. “Spent the next hour running around the house trying to warm her up a new one, singing off-key and begging her not to cry.” His smile turns tender. “Eventually she fell back asleep on my chest, didn’t even make it through the lullaby or the new bottle of milk.”
Something warm settles in my chest at the image.
“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full,” I say softly.
Varo chuckles, fingers absently toying with the pendant at his neck. “You have no idea.”
The conversation drifts on, gentle and unguarded as the night wears thin around us—warm in a way I hadn’t thought possible beyond the safety of the wards.
No one truly relaxes; we all remain half-listening for the telltale patter of rain, the whisper of shifting branches or the scrape of claws against stone.
And yet… for now, in this fragile pocket of time, even with danger coiled just beyond the temple walls, everything feels comfortable and unexpectedly safe.