Isaldora turned, and there he was—Hyden, leader of the elves.
Half in the dark, like always. Loose, old-fashioned clothes draped across his tall frame, hair tied back carelessly, eyes sharp and watchful. The smirk tugging at his mouth was all too familiar. Typical Hyden. Isaldora thought.
Her lips curved, cool and edged. "Didn't expect to see you here."
Hyden's smirk tilted higher. "What can I say? I've grown unpredictable," he said, but then his smirk faded, his voice dropping low. "There's something we need to talk about. Now."
Isaldora's answer was only a slight nod, but immediate. She knew if Hyden had shown himself here, then whatever it was, it mattered.
Without another word, she turned with Hyden falling in step beside her as they slipped away into a side corridor opposite the hall, unaware that a pair of eyes was watching their every move.
...
Isaldora slipped into the private room—one hardly anyone knew existed.
And why was that? Because Rivadi had booked one of her hotels for his event. And naturally, she knew every corner of it. Every one of her hotels had such a room.
Inside, she saw Lyna sprawled out on a velvet couch, long legs crossed, swirling the rim of her glass with that lazy grace only a siren could pull off. The second her eyes landed on Isaldora, she stood in one fluid motion and dipped into a mocking little bow, lips tugging into a smirk.
Isaldora's jaw tightened at her gesture, but she simply rolled her eyes, ignoring her and walked further in, dropping into a chair opposite without a word. Hyden slipped into the seat beside Lyna, his expression calm but quite serious.
Her gaze slid over both of them, cool and direct.
"So," she cut in, straight to the point. "What are you two doing here?"
Lyna gave a dry shrug, a bitter smile tugging her lips. "Wow. No 'hello'? No 'nice to see you'? You really know how to make a girl feel welcome."
Hyden let out a low chuckle, but there was something sharp under it, like he wasn't really amused.
Isaldora didn't even blink. She wasn't here for games.
Hyden leaned forward slightly, voice calm but carrying weight. "There've been some ripples in our world. Big ones. Besides you, of course… Doomwitch."
Her eyes narrowed at the name, just a fraction.
Lyna added, leaning in. "He's right. The rogues aren't just running wild anymore — they're moving like they've got a purpose. Like someone's pulling the strings."
Isaldora tilted her head, voice flat. "And that's my problem because…?"
Hyden's jaw tensed. "Because there's a pattern. And I think it ties back to what happened in Aetherwyn."
The change in her was instant. She straightened, expression hardening, silver-violet eyes flashing cold fury. The air in the room shifted, cooler, heavier.
"Are you sure?" Her voice was soft but laced with steel.
Hyden hesitated. "Not completely. But the way things line up… rogues, wolves, vamps, even warlocks—working together. It's not natural. And it feels like something darker is moving under all of it."
Elves always had a way of sensing what others missed, that attunement to the deeper currents of the world. Isaldora knew he wasn't speaking lightly.
Lyna's voice broke through softer this time, almost cautious. "There's even a rumor going around…" Her gaze flicked to Isaldora. "…that you're the one leading the rogues."
At that, Isaldora gave the faintest laugh under her breath, lips curling into a dark smirk. "If only they knew."
Hyden leaned back, jaw tight. "Your little trail of carnage has people talking. You've become… a bit of a bedtime story." He sounded almost grim. "Even I wasn't expecting that."
Isaldora's smirk iced over, her eyes glinting. "Honestly? I could've done worse. I got bored and ended it quickly." She shrugged like it was nothing.
Lyna and Hyden exchanged a look of concern and caution.
"You could at least make it less… gruesome," Lyna said hesitantly. "Tone it down. Maybe stop looking like you enjoy it."
Isaldora's head snapped her way, gaze cutting like glass. "What, you want me to grow a conscience?"
Lyna flinched slightly but covered it with a wry smile. "No. Just saying, maybe you don't have to make it seem that you're… reveling in it."
"What if I say I do enjoy it?" Isaldora said, voice smooth but icy. "Either way, they deserved what happened to them."
Hyden's voice cut through, sharp as a blade. "And what if one day we do or say something you don't like? Do we end up gutted, too?"
Isaldora turned her head slowly, deliberately, eyes gleaming like a predator's. "You wanna find out? Be my guest."
He didn't flinch. "That's the problem, you see. You don't even trust us. Even though we are standing by your side."
She let out a laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, please. Spare me the pity sentiment."
She leaned forward, and her voice dropped razor-thin as she spoke.
"The illusion of loyalty and trust," she said coldly, "is what burned Aetherwyn."
Her words cut sharper, her voice dropping lower, like death itself was speaking.
"Where was that loyalty when they slaughtered my bloodline? When my people's screams went unanswered?"
She didn't raise her voice — she didn't need to. The fury pressed down heavy, suffocating.
"Loyalty," she spat, "is just another fuckin' pretty word for standing by while the fire burns."
The silence that followed was raw. Neither Hyden nor Lyna spoke. They couldn't — not against the vicious truth.
They both saw it. The ruin. The broken child who was rebuilt into something monstrous. And Hyden knew very well the pain Isaldora went through. He had been with her.
"If you keep feeding that rage… it'll eat everything. Even the light." Lyna finally broke the silence.
"The very light Aetherwyn was known for. The light you were supposed to carry. If you let this consume you, whatever's left of them in you dies too."
Something flickered in Isaldora's eyes before it was gone.
She said nothing.
The silence stretched. Thick and uncomfortable as they sat.
Then Isaldora rose, her dress brushing the floor as she moved for the door. Her hand was already on the handle when Hyden's voice came, quieter this time. Tired.
"Izzy."
She froze. The endearment hit her like a pang to the chest.
"Edina asked me to pass on her blessings," he continued. "She hopes for you to find happiness. Love, even."
For a heartbeat, something soft flickered across her face. Barely there, but there.
Edina. Of course, it was her. The only one who'd wish her something so naïve, so impossible. Happiness and love. It sounded more like a fairytale than a future to her. When she was young, she dreamed of finding love, her mate. It was what any supernatural lived for. But that's it, she used to dream. Used to.
A tiny, grave smile ghosted over her lips.
"Tell her I'll visit sometime soon," she murmured, voice soft, stripped of its edge.
Then she pulled the door open and stepped out, leaving the weight of her absence behind.
She turned the corner and nearly stopped in her tracks.
At the very end of the hall, in a corridor that went nowhere, she saw Kaelith Duskbane pacing like a caged animal. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tensed, his eyes darting around furiously as though he was searching for something that wasn't there.
Isaldora almost ignored him. Almost. But curiosity got the better of her.
Kaelith ran a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. He could've sworn he saw her come this way — with that strange guy who didn't smell remotely human. The corridor was empty. Only a few rooms were here, and all were empty. He couldn't even get a scent. Just utter silence.
And it made his skin crawl.
Where the hell had she gone?
His chest tightened, instincts prickling. Was she in danger? No. But why would he care? She wasn't his problem. She wasn't his anything.
So why did his gut feel like it was being twisted with barbed wire?
Even worse, his wolf was a wreck — pacing in his head giving him a headache. He was restless, snarling every time he pictured her with someone else.
Kaelith gritted his teeth, trying to shove it back down. The damn beast only growled louder.
What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you acting like that? He asked his wolf, but did he care to answer? Nope, he didn't. Kaelith ran his hand over his hair in frustration.
"Looking for something at a dead end, Mr. Bane?"