Elana hummed quietly as she worked the yarn on the bench behind the house.
The morning air brushed through her hair and flowers carried their perfume in the wind.
Knitting was one of the best habits she'd practiced—thanks to Zelda.
Flowers weren't the only thing she could connect to now.
The yarn rolled and pulled under her fingers. Sometimes it felt like she could almost see what she was making just by touch.
She loved how each row grew wider, and how Zelda praised her every time she made progress.
Two days had passed here, and she already liked everything about the place—Zelda and Eldric teasing each other at dinner, Cara's steady company, and Zelda's tasty meals.
In some ways, Zelda reminded her of Trisha—a human version of her.
The only trouble came at night when her thoughts about Azael refused to settle. Shameful thoughts that made her body react before she could stop it. Thoughts of her longing for him.
She was determined to resist next time. She had to.
Footsteps approached. Cara's scent reached her first before the woman sighed and sat beside her.
"Good morning, Cara."
"This place is doing wonders to you," Cara said cheerfully. "You're glowing."
Elana blushed, embarrassed slightly but more easily now than when they first arrived.
"I'm sure you're glowing too," she smiled. "Have you heard from Zane or Caesar?"
"Not yet," Cara sighed again. "But Eldric promised good feedback from the kings. Hopefully that means something."
Elana lowered the yarn. "What if we could start over here—on our terms?"
Silence followed, long enough for her to wonder if she'd said too much.
She was the reason they were here. Maybe she was asking too much of them.
Yet she cared for their safety—and for the rare friendship she'd found with them.
"To be honest," Cara said in a lower voice. "I kinda like being bullied into good decisions. Even if it's indirect most of the time."
Elana laughed and opened her mouth to reply but Zelda's voice cut in.
"You both have visitors!"
"Cara," Caesar's voice called with excitement.
Cara stood and her scent faded. A new one replaced it—cool and familiar.
"Elana," Zane said, his voice rough as usual but gentle.
She smiled, the reunion further elevating her mood. "I'm so glad you're alright, Zane."
"Yeah," he said, though something strained in his tone. "It's a nice place. The yarn's…beautiful."
Her chest warmed at the compliment as she added bashfully. "And I only started the day after we got here."
"I'll be inside," Zelda said. "I need to top and finish breakfast since we have guests."
Zane took Elana's hand, guiding her attention away from her knitting.
"My mom used to knit me sweaters when I was a kid," he said. "A new one every year. And my socks were always so creative in school."
"That is such a sweet memory, Zane," Elana said softly. "I'm not sure I could ever knit sweaters right…"
Zane chuckled. "At your pace, sweet pie. It was just a reminder of one of my best memories."
Elana smiled and gently pulled back her hand. "I was asking if Sirence might be good enough to stay in for a while."
"Elana," his voice grew strict. "Sirence is a cage. Sure it feels peaceful, but it still is. Just like being under Azael."
"I don't think I can control the hold he has on me," she whispered, a shadow of sadness casting over her cheery mood. "My resistance will only cause more harm than good…especially for you."
"More than anything," Zane said. "I wish you free. Especially from people like him. I understand the intense manipulation he puts you through simply because you're below him, simply because we all are."
Elana set down the yarn entirely. Azael's cold voice resurfaced in her memory: I'm glad you're beginning to understand your place.
"I know about my helplessness, Zane," she whispered. "You don't have to remind me."
"I'm sorry, sweet pie." Zane's voice softened. "I just can't stand his audacity—wanting to own your freedom when we risked our lives to get you out of that prison."
"Stop, Zane." Elana trembled. Memories pressed in—how her body had surrendered to Azael despite his cruelty, how she had mistaken it for a connection at the start. "I'm confused, I'm so confused."
His rough hands folded around hers. "I don't want you to get carried away so our escape from this place would be seamless."
Elana lifted her face toward his voice. "What do you…?"
"Caesar and I want to help you escape," Zane murmured. "It's up to you now, Elana. Freedom—or a slave again?"
Her heartbeat raced. This was a true test of what she felt for Azael, for what she desired more: her freedom, or bondage.
**
Fen watched as Eira glided toward him on his throne. Leather hugged her like a second skin—her favorite material, he suspected.
The clinking steps of shoes that elevated her height, a vivid example of how refined Azael's tastes were in women.
A sly smile crossed her lips, as if saying I told you so.
"I see a lot of wolves around," she said. "Just not up to the dead ones I saw in Azael's territory."
Fen scoffed. "Sharp mouth. Still couldn't keep a man. What useless information do you have this time?"
He enjoyed the fury she struggled to hide. Her voice echoed through his mountain as she spoke.
"That same information that helped you even touch Azael. You think he wouldn't have predicted those cowardly attacks of yours if that vampire you killed with my help was alive."
"So dramatic," Fen sighed. "What is it now, Eira? My time is precious."
She scoffed. "Elana's currently in a different kingdom."
Fen leaned forward.
Eira posed confidently. Her eyes held his gaze.
"I might not know the exact location," she added. "But I have a way to bring her here."
Fen's interest sharpened. "This is very useful indeed," he murmured as he sat up on his throne. "Yes, bring her."
"And our deal?" She said calmly.
His jaw tightened. Keeping Azael alive was a foolish request, but it kept her invested.
"Yes, Eira. I'll uphold my end," he muttered.
Her stare lingered like she could see right through him. She won't be easy to remove.
**
King Victor surveyed his army. Soldiers stood straight despite their exhaustion and doubts in their eyes.
Rifles hung by their sides; four men balanced the weight of each cannon.
The flag of Lumere tied them all together.
The sun was high—perfect time to attack as Syrus said. No magical cast, no cursed weather. Better for humans than vampires.
More footsteps approached behind him—Syrus on horseback.
"I want everyone within sight," Victor said, his voice stern.
Syrus rode forward and bowed. Only Cara had earned the right to stand with Victor as Co-commander.
"Soldiers of Lumere," Victor began, "Your devotion is seen. Your sacrifices will be rewarded. Our last conquest was hard—this one will be worse. We are not fighting the ordinary. But we must destroy corruption and reclaim the hidden lands of Lumere."
He swallowed, forcing down the fear inside him.
"Expect anything," he continued. "This isn't one man against one man. Our victory depends on teamwork. Every strange sound must be noticed. Every strange movement must be shared. God help us."
The soldiers halted in respect as Victor finished and bowed their heads as the priest began to pray.
Inside, Victor only wished to reach Cara in time to save her from the clutches of the Ancient.