Chapter 21
Elora
“I…” Elora blinked hard, her vision swimming. Her limbs felt heavy, like her bones were soaked in lead, her thoughts crawling through molasses. “Is… is Fane dead?”
Violette’s mouth drew into a thin line, her eyes cutting toward the smoldering wreck of the barn. She didn’t answer.
Rell’s voice cut through the haze. “Not yet.”
Elora followed his gaze, and the fog in her head began to burn away. In the field beyond the ruins, Fane still stood—massive, monstrous, unyielding. He swung one of his crackling coils with deadly force, the electricity flaring like a whip of lightning.
But it wasn’t Fane that made her breath catch.
It was the creature facing him.
The glowing ripple of its wings. That sleek, speckled black coat that shimmered like starlight. Those fierce, golden eyes.
Viliam.
Her heart skipped, then stuttered into overdrive.
He came back.
She couldn’t move. Could barely think. Her mind reeled, too many questions spinning all at once. How? Why? He was supposed to be far from here—safe in Al’tera.
Rell’s voice snapped her back. “We might just want to make a run for it before that thing turns on us.”
“It won’t,” she said quickly. “I know it won’t.”
“Elora—” he growled.
“I know it,” she said, voice low but hard as iron. “He’s not here to hurt us.”
Rell started to argue again, but she was already moving. She shocked herself, biting back the pain as her body snapped into its shifted form. Claws, strength, clarity—everything coming into focus like lightning behind her eyes.
When she lifted her head, her gold-ringed gaze locked with Viliam’s.
That familiar pull—impossibly strong—snapped into place. Golden eyes met hers, steady and wild and warm. Even in the chaos, he saw her. Recognized her.
Then Fane struck.
His massive hand clamped around Viliam mid-leap and slammed him into the dirt like a broken thing.
“No!” The scream ripped out of her.
Viliam didn’t move.
She ran.
Blind to the chaos behind her. Deaf to Rell shouting her name.
The world narrowed to the crumpled figure in the grass until lightning cracked the ground in front of her. Fane’s coil hit with explosive force, blowing dirt into the air and knocking her off her feet.
Across the field, Viliam still hadn’t risen.
Fane loomed now, between them, closer than ever.
Strong hands grabbed her from behind, yanking her back.
“What the hell are you doing?” Rell’s voice snapped against her ear. His grip biting into her arm.
“Let me go!” she shouted, twisting in his hold. Her claws scraped across his coat, catching on the fabric, but he didn’t flinch.
“No chance,” he growled, dragging her away from the fight. “You’re charging into a death trap, and we don’t even know what that thing is!”
“You don’t understand—”
“You’re right, I don’t,” he snapped. “But I do understand this—Fane’s still standing, and you're not going to help anyone by getting yourself killed.”
He hauled her behind the jagged remains of the barn wall.
Elora’s breath hitched, her chest heaving with frustration as her eyes darted back toward the fight.
Violette’s voice barked commands across the field.
The hiss of coils, the thrum of crossbow bolts, Viliam’s low, guttural snarls—it was chaos.
“Let me go, Rell!”
“Not happening, Elora,” he snarled, his grip tightening.
He didn’t understand. None of them did. That wasn’t just some creature out there.
Her claws curled again, fury flashing through her as she struggled. She could see Viliam—downed, struggling to rise—while Fane loomed over him, raising the crackling coil.
“Watch the claws,” Rell warned, pulling her back harder. “Try me, and you’ll regret it.”
She froze at the edge in his tone, every muscle in her body coiled and burning with the need to move. But she stopped.
“Talk to me, Elora.” His face was close now, jaw set, dark eyes locked on hers. “Why the hell are you so ready to die for that thing?”
Her pulse thundered. The panic, the instinct—it all pressed against her ribs like it was trying to break out.
“It’s a nightglider,” she said, breathless.
Rell frowned. “That’s not an answer.”
“It saved me,” she snapped. “Back at The Institute. When I escaped, it—it helped. I wouldn’t have made it out without it.”
His expression shifted—still skeptical, but sharper now. Processing.
“And you didn’t think to mention that earlier?”
“I didn’t think I’d ever see it again,” she bit out. “I thought it went back to Al’tera. Or died. I don’t know.”
It was the truth, just not the whole of it. She didn’t tell him Viliam wasn’t just a nightglider. She didn’t tell him what Thorn had done—what she and Viliam shared in their veins.
Rell held her gaze for a long, tense second, then abruptly let her go.
“Fine. But you stay back,” he ordered. “Let us deal with Fane. Got it?”
She looked past him. Viliam had pushed himself upright again, wings flaring as he hissed at Fane. The bounty hunter swung wide with his coil, missing by inches. Her entire body tensed to move.
“Elora.” Rell’s voice cut in again, firm. “Got it?”
She grit her teeth. Her claws flexed. “Fine.”
“Good.” Rell turned without another word, his coat snapping behind him as he sprinted back toward the fight.
Elora stayed frozen a moment longer.
And then she turned her eyes back to Viliam.
And waited. Ready to break that promise the second it mattered.