Chapter 17
Elira
I felt the eyes on the back of my neck as we made our way toward the keep.
Around us, the blood-red cloaks of the Sentinels moved like shadows through the wreckage, working silently, grimly—loading the bodies of soldiers and civilians alike. Those who’d just been in the wrong place. The wrong moment.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something. It all came down to that moment by the docks.
Who was watching me from the shadows? And why did it feel like those blood red eyes were something I had seen before?
A knot twisted low in my gut. I cursed the void in my mind where my secrets were kept.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Slade. He rode with his jaw clenched and his shoulders locked, gripping the reins with sheer will. Blood still seeped through the makeshift bandage at his side. He didn’t complain. He never did.
But I saw the strain in every line of him.
So did Leo.
He rode a little closer to Slade’s flank, just enough to catch him if he slipped—but not close enough to insult his pride. The quiet understanding between the two of them was strangely comforting.
I exhaled and turned forward again, but the tension stayed, humming just beneath my skin.
When we reached the gates, they opened automatically.
Slade refused help the whole way back to the apartment.
Every step was painful to watch. Blood dripped steadily down his side, but his jaw was clenched, and his eyes locked forward like he could will the pain away.
Leo and I exchanged glances, but no one dared touch him unless absolutely necessary.
He wouldn’t tolerate pity. Especially not in front of the waiting Sentinels.
Leo stayed close, pacing like a lion barely leashed. His golden eyes kept flicking to Slade’s side.
“I’m fine,” Slade muttered when we reached the heavy door to the apartment.
Leo snorted. “And I’m a unicorn.”
He pushed the door open, and we helped Slade inside despite his quiet curses. His bedroom wasn’t large, but it was solid—reinforced stone walls, minimal furniture, a forge-worn scent clinging faintly to the air. The shadows of his craft lived here, embedded into the space like the veins of iron.
A workbench stood against one wall, scattered with metal scraps and half-built constructs—tools of his trade. Blades, wires, and darksteel rings sat like quiet sentries. The bed was low and firm, the sheets plain.
Leo and I guided him there carefully, even as he resisted with every step.
“You’re going to make it worse if you keep being stubborn,” Leo warned. “Let us help.”
“I said I’ve got it.”
“You don’t got it,” I snapped, stepping in to grab his arm as he stumbled sideways. “Now shut up and sit.”
He blinked at me, a flicker of something like surprise flashing behind his tired scowl, but he finally let himself drop onto the bed with a grunt.
Leo rolled up his sleeves. “We need to sew it. Unless you want to bleed out on your mattress like a dramatic bastard.”
“I’ll live.”
“Not the point.”
Slade glared, but didn’t argue. I fetched the needle and thread while Leo tore open the ruined shirt to expose the wound—it ran jagged across his ribs, already crusting at the edges. The metal that normally shimmered beneath his skin was dull and motionless, like even it was conserving strength.
Leo met my eyes. “Hold him steady. He moves, he’ll feel every damn stitch.”
I nodded, pressing my hand gently against Slade’s shoulder. He tensed under the contact, like he wasn’t used to being touched, but didn’t shove me off. Leo started to work, each pull of the thread neat and practiced.
“I thought metal slingers were supposed to be tougher than this,” Leo teased, just to break the tension.
Slade didn’t even blink. “Thought lions were supposed to be quiet when they’re not useful.”
Leo chuckled. “Touché.”
The stitching didn’t take long. I watched carefully, memorizing the way Leo’s fingers moved, the slight tug at the skin, the way the edges were pulled together with precision and care. When it was done, Slade let out a slow breath and leaned back against the wall, spent.
He didn’t thank us.
He didn’t need to.
Leo helped him down gently, one hand still at his shoulder until Slade gave him a look that said “enough.”
“You good?” Leo asked.
Slade gave a small nod. “Go.”
“Yell if you feel like dying,” Leo said, grinning faintly as he closed the door behind us. “Or if you need to take a piss!”
“Fuck you, you overgrown housecat.” Slade growled at our back. Leo just chuckled.
Back in the lounge, I dropped onto the couch, spine curving into the cushions with a groan. I was exhausted.
“Well. Long day, huh?” Leo said as he slumped down beside me, head back, eyes closed.
I snorted. “You could say that.”
“That was one hell of a fight.”
I winced. “I’m going to be feeling it tomorrow, that’s for damn sure.”
“You were pretty scrappy out there.” He grinned.
“Ha! You could call it that I guess. I’m just lucky I didn’t get stabbed too.”
“I suppose that’s true,” he said, flashing a grin. “But some of those moves of yours looked... tight. Like, real expert. Who taught you to fight?”
“Why do you care?” I muttered.
He shrugged, easy, lazy. “Just curious.”
I rolled my eyes. “Finn. My friend. He spent the last six years teaching me whatever he knew — street fighting, throwing knives, a little swordplay.”
Leo whistled low under his breath. “Sounds like a good guy. How’d you two meet?”
I shifted, uncomfortable. My fingers twisted in the hem of my sleeve.
“He’s the one who found me,” I said, voice low.
Leo straightened slightly. “Found you? What do you mean?”
“I mean,” I said tightly, staring out the dark window, “I woke up in the middle of a goddamn forest when I was sixteen. No memories, except my name. Nothing else. Just blood on my clothes. And lots of pain.”
I shrugged like it didn’t matter, even though it did. “Finn found me. Took me in. Taught me everything I know.”
There was a beat of silence before Leo, his tone softer now, asked, “Was he your boyfriend?”
I snorted so hard it turned into a laugh.
“Me and Finn? No way. Gross. He’s like... my big brother. Crazy, loud, always getting into trouble. But he’s good. He’s kind.”
A lump clogged my throat, but I swallowed it down. “We used to go raiding together until he got hurt. He had connections all over the city — places where we could get work, food. Whatever kept us alive.”
Leo’s gaze sharpened. “Phoenix said he looked pretty sick.”
My muscles went rigid, the casual mood cracking. I didn’t want to talk about it, but there it was.
“Yeah, well,” I said, forcing the words out, “that’s what happens when the Sentinels decide they don’t like your face on the streets.”
“I’m sorry that happened to your friend.”
“Are you?” I looked at him, challenging. “Because you’d be the first Shade to say so.”
“Not all of us agree with how the king runs things around here, Elira. But we know the way the world works.” Leo sighed, leaning back in his seat.
“Elle.” I said finally, looking at him.
“What?” he glanced at me in surprise.
“You can call me Elle. I prefer it.”
“What about angel?” he smirked.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m no angel, Leo. That’s for damn sure.”
He chuckled.
I tilted my head toward Slade’s room. “So, is he always so stubborn?”
“Who, Slade?” Leo smirked. “He’s a big old fluffy teddy bear usually.”
“I heard that! Asshole!” Slade yelled from his room.
“Good!” Leo yelled back.
“You guys seem to know each other pretty well…”
Leo cracked one eye open, the lazy edge to his voice softening. “They’re my family. All of them. Closest thing I’ve got in this place. They’ve saved my ass more times than I can count.”
I hesitated, then asked quietly, “You don’t have any other family?”
For a moment, Leo went still. The easy grin faded from his face. He cast a quick glance at me, something guarded flickering in his eyes.
“No,” he said, voice lower, rougher. “No other family.”
The air between us shifted, growing heavier. I could feel the weight of whatever he wasn’t saying — and I knew better than to press.
So I let it go and steered the conversation somewhere safer.
I glanced at the closed bedroom door. “You two are different.”
“We balance each other out,” Leo said. “I make the mess, he cleans it up.”
I snorted.
He grinned. “He’d never say it, but I think he likes you.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Grumpy bear back there? Likes me? He barely speaks to me.”
“Exactly,” Leo said with a mock-serious nod. “For him, that’s basically love poetry.”
That earned a real laugh from me. I caught myself smiling, then looked away quickly.
“I kind of like you too,” Leo said after a moment. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
I shifted with discomfort. My face flushed bright red. “You don’t even know me,” I muttered.
“I’m starting to,” he said, quietly this time. “And I think you’re pretty incredible so far.”
I didn’t respond to that. Couldn’t.
These men, they were getting under my skin and I hated it. It was getting harder to forget the reason I was there at all. The reason I was at risk of the king’s wrath, because they had imprisoned me in the first place.
But goddammit, none of them — except maybe Thorne — were behaving the way I expected.
They were supposed to be bad. Evil. Monsters.
Right?
Because if they weren’t...
If they weren’t the villains I needed them to be —
Then what the hell was I supposed to do?
My chest was too tight and I was just so tired. The room spun slowly with the warmth of the fire in the hearth and the soft sound of Leo’s breathing beside me.
At some point, I must have closed my eyes.
When I woke, at first I was a little confused. I couldn’t remember where I was. My eyes fluttered open, and then I felt it—the weight of someone beside me.
I froze.
I was lying on the couch. Not just lying—curled up against Leo. His arm was draped around me, and my head rested against his chest. The steady beat of his heart under my cheek was oddly comforting. My skin prickled in awareness.