Elira
She walked the length of the corridor without looking back, though she felt his eyes on her—like heat pressing between her shoulder blades. The cold stone under her feet did little to steady her racing thoughts. Every step toward the east wing, toward the warmth of the chamber he had given her, felt like a retreat. Like defeat.
He had stopped her.
He hadn't yelled. Hadn't threatened. But the moment his hand closed over hers, she'd felt the strength beneath the calm. The warning wrapped in velvet.
"You don't want answers from doors like this."
Elira clenched her jaw.
He had secrets. Of course he did. Beasts always did.
But she had almost seen what he didn't want her to. That mattered. That meant power.
Back in her room, the fire had died down to a soft glow. The bathwater was cold now, still and forgotten. Her nightgown clung to her from wandering the damp halls. She stripped it off and found a fresh one folded at the foot of the bed—white, soft, delicately embroidered like something made for a noblewoman.
She slipped it on and crawled under the covers, her body still buzzing from adrenaline. Her thoughts refused to settle.
That door…
It wasn't just the carvings that disturbed her. It was the air around it. Heavy. Pressured. As though the very stones of the castle had been holding their breath.
And Kael…
She frowned.
He didn't touch her like a man claiming property. His voice hadn't been cruel, even when she challenged him. No one had ever held her hand that gently while issuing a warning. And that terrified her more than anything else.
Kindness was a sharper blade. One she didn't know how to fight.
"I protect what's mine."
Those words replayed in her mind over and over. Not cruel. Not possessive. But not innocent either.
She wasn't his. But that didn't stop part of her—some wild, treacherous sliver deep in her chest—from wondering what it might feel like if she were.
Elira turned over in bed, facing the firelight. Shadows danced on the walls like whispers. The silk sheets were impossibly soft, warmer than anything she'd known in years. The scent of pine smoke filled the room, comforting and quiet.
She let her eyes close.
Still, the door loomed in her dreams.
A cold handle in her palm. A voice behind her. A choice she hadn't made.
Not yet.