"These wounds don't seem to be healing, Elana,"
Zane's voice gritted out, tense and rough.
He had been fixated on the injury at her neck since morning, ever since they gathered at the dining table.
"Zane," Cara sighed. "Just eat your food and wait until we're out of here. The twins are here for Christ's sake."
Zane scoffed. "Why are they even here in the first place? They can't even eat normal food," he whispered.
"Well I'm thinking because you were too close to Diana the first time," Cara said. "They're just warning you—extra clearly this time."
Elana smiled faintly at their bickering. Who would've thought she would have real friends after the war? Even if they contradict each other they still cared—and that was all it took to make Elana's heart tug.
The tension at the table sharpened suddenly as Zane and Cara's conversation froze.
"I have a proposition."
Azael's voice cut through the moment—stricter, colder than usual.
"Since you have yet to find permanent refuge from Lumere," he continued. "The kingdom of Sirence would serve well for now."
Diana's captive kingdom.
Ruled by the twins.
"We already have a permanent refuge in mind," Zane said.
The silence that followed was nearly deafening. Even Elana feared for Zane.
"We?" Azael asked quietly, slicing through it.
"Uhm…we're not exactly sure—" Cara began.
"We can seek refuge in another kingdom," Zane interrupted. "The location isn't something we're ready to disclose."
**
Azael contained his anger. Zane was trying too hard to be a problem.
His gaze never left Elana even as Zane spoke. The lavender scent on her tempted him—an unwanted reminder of the warmth he'd claimed between her thighs.
His obsession would be the death of him—or worse, of her.
Elana had to stay in Sirence. It was safer, structured. Social—everything she claimed to want in her fragile pursuit of freedom.
Anywhere near him was a liability. Fen's threat was too real, too close. At any moment Fen could breach the cast.
He couldn't afford distractions not now that Fen was reckless with desperation and black magic.
"Then it's fortunate you've already found refuge," Azael said at last. "Elana will remain in Sirence for now."
"You speak for her," Zane countered. "As if she doesn't have a choice. What makes you different from the people who once enslaved her?"
Azael's lethal gaze finally met Zane's. The coward wavered.
"Even knowing the consequences, you cling stubbornly to that fragile human ego," Evren said coolly, eying Zane.
"Elana."
Azael's attention returned to her. She looked uncomfortable. Good. Indecision always followed discomfort.
"What do you want?" he asked.
The table turned toward her—except Caesar, who sat deep in thought, idly pushing food around his plate.
Even as she couldn't see, she could definitely feel the weight of his question pressing on her.
"I…I trust where it's safe for all of us," she spoke in that soft voice that had melted into sinful melodies in his arms.
"And so far," she added, "Master Azael has kept us safe."
Azael slid his gaze back to Zane, enjoying the embarrassment rolling off his stiff posture—a pathetic, infatuated human.
"And Master," Elana said, calling his attention back. "C-can we speak after now?"
"We see now. You leave today with Thorne and Evren," Azael said, fed up with the tussle but determined to control the outcome.
She flinched, a little caught back by his sudden decision, yet she maintained that frustrating defiance. "Fine." her words came out sharp.
Thorne masked a smile, and Evren shifted uneasily. Diana remained lost in her own thoughts.
The others didn't react, as if they understood that Elana's outbursts were forgiven in his presence.
"Come then," Azael said calmly, observing Elana's earlier confidence dissolve into hesitation.
**
Elana swallowed, standing in Azael's room, she could tell by the scent alone.
The door clicked shut. His footsteps moved quietly and stopped.
"I'm sorry I raised my voice," Elana said. "I understand you mean to protect me, but I should have a say in where I want to go."
"How do you think that I've resisted killing you, Elana?" he asked, his voice sharp with threat.
He raised his defenses again, his words like armor meant to scare her. Fear laced her reply, "What else would you possibly do again to prove that you could?"
She waited for his reaction, half-expecting his touch—maybe then she'd be able to admit she wanted to stay.
"A slave," he chuckled darkly. "A slave like yourself believes she has some sick control over me."
Her heart cracked—was that all he had ever seen her as?
"I don't want to control you," she whispered. "I just—"
"Let those tears fall," Azael cut in. "Truth should hurt properly."
Confusion wrecked her. After the spring. The lavender-scented dress. Tears slipped free.
He drew close, his cold breath brushing her lips, like mist in a forest, as his fingers tilted her face upward.
"So vulnerable," he murmured. "So fragile in body and fate alike."
"If I'm only a slave to you," she said through the ache, "then let me go with Zane. Where he believes is safe."
A pause before Azael dropped her chin.
"You stay where I decide," he said.
"As he asked earlier, what makes you different from a captor?" she asked with a bitterly soft tone.
"I'm glad you're beginning to understand your place."
His presence faded.
Her knees nearly gave.
A mere slave shamelessly feeding her new master's sick desire.
Probably what Azael had reduced her to?
A minion's ethereal hand caught hers before she fell. The touch was all she could lean on from the weight of his words.
**
"What do you want?" Eira said, sensing Caesar before he could come any closer in the field.
Cara and Zane were in the castle room shaken by Azael's sudden decision, by the future he'd forced upon them in Sirence.
"I'm in awe of how beautiful you become by the day," Ceasar said carefully.
Eira was a deliciously powerful and daring woman.
She was the peak of Caesar's taste in the opposite gender.
She turned slowly, hips moving with deliberate elegance.
Her gaze met his, seduction sharpened with intent. He swallowed.
"I could be more to you," Caesar said, already imagining what it meant to gain from her power and her body. "More than a lover. I will be loyal and bonded to you only, by blood or whatever you dim fit."
Her crimson lips curved into a knowing smile. "Then my bond will be your reward if you travel to Sirence with your friends and provide me with information about the kingdom and where Elana would be staying."
Caesar knew her obsession with Azael well. Powerful women always sought powerful men.
He just had to be loyal and patient enough to be better than Azael in her eyes.
"If that is all you require," he said, gently lifting her hand, "I would be honored to oblige."
He pressed his lips to her knuckles—cool, elegant fingers faintly scented with cherry.