"Don't," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Don't do the shrug. Don't do the deflecting. Don't give me that 'I'm fine' nonsense."
She stepped closer.
"You're pale. And you're shaking."
He wasn't. Not visibly. But she wasn't wrong.
"Something was out there," she said, voice lower now. "Something strong."
He inhaled. "You felt it?"
"Everyone felt it," Elara answered. "Nathan sprinted halfway here thinking it was a Cabal strike. Dorian's still sweeping the perimeter. Even Professor Rowan left his classroom."
Merlin blinked. "Rowan?"
"He felt it too." Elara's gaze sharpened. "Merlin—what did you run into?"
Shade gave a miserable croak, burrowing deeper into Merlin's cloak like a terrified child.
Elara's expression softened only for him—just a fraction—before she looked at Merlin again.
"You need to tell me."
And the problem was: he wanted to.
Gods, he wanted to.
