Kate scrambled off the floor in a frenzy and disappeared out of sight. Whatever Amber had done, it clearly terrified her.
Silence settled over the tavern, leaving only Dante and Elena behind.
"What was that all about?" Dante asked, scratching the back of his head. "I didn't know your friend was so… hot-tempered. I'm honestly surprised she hasn't ripped my head off yet with all the teasing."
Elena didn't respond. She stood still, deep in thought.
A cold wind swept through the tavern, making her shiver. The hairs on her arms stood on end.
"You should change out of those clothes," Dante said. "You'll catch a cold."
"Right," she replied absently and headed upstairs.
She returned minutes later in dry clothes. Her hair was still damp, despite her obvious attempt to wring out the water.
Without a word, Dante removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders.
"What are you doing?" she asked, startled.
"The last thing I need is a sick Elena," he shrugged. "If you're down, who's going to keep me company?"
She smiled faintly, seeing through his excuse.
"Thank you, Dante."
She pulled the cloak tighter around herself, savoring the warmth. Without thinking, she inhaled deeply.
He smelled… comforting.
They sat back down at their earlier spot.
"As much as I hate to admit it," Elena began quietly, "something is wrong with Amber. She's different. Aggressive, even."
"And her aura," Dante added slowly. "It felt… oppressive."
Elena's head snapped up.
"Oh my God. You felt it too?"
"Yes."
"What could be wrong with her?"
Dante stood and paced, clearly wrestling with his thoughts. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"Whatever you're thinking, just say it," Elena snapped.
"Elena…" Dante said, pulling a chair closer until their knees touched. "Look at me."
She hesitated, then raised her head. Her emerald eyes met his dark ones.
"There's a chance," he said carefully, "that Amber is falling under the influence of the curse."
"What nonsense are you spouting?" Elena scoffed, trying to stand—but Dante tightened his grip on her hands.
"I know this is hard to hear," he continued. "But what she's showing—they're signs.."
"Shut up," Elena whispered.
"I saw her eyes, Elena. They were—"
"I said shut up!"
She jumped to her feet. The cup Amber had used clattered to the floor.
Dante stared at her, stunned.
"She hasn't fully turned yet," he said urgently. "That means there's still time—"
"Amber is not cursed," Elena said, shaking her head.
"You're not listening to me."
"You don't know anything!" Elena snapped, tears burning her eyes. "Who made you an expert on curses anyway?"
She stepped closer.
"Amber just lost her father. The villagers treat her family like outcasts. She's grieving. She's stressed. That's normal!"
Dante exhaled slowly.
"Those emotions are exactly what curses feed on. Hate. Grief. Revenge. If the will isn't strong enough, it starts slowly—then takes everything."
"How do you know this?" Elena asked, her voice trembling.
"I've traveled. I've seen it happen."
"You're lying," she said quietly.
Her voice cracked.
"Her father was killed by a curse. And now you're saying she'll become one of them? Do you hear how cruel that sounds?"
"I'm trying to help—"
"Help by shutting the fuck up!" she yelled. "We're not close enough for you to pretend like you care. Amber is my only real friend!"
Dante stepped back.
His expression emptied.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I overstepped. I shouldn't have said anything."
He turned toward the door.
"I should go."
Elena's breath hitched.
"Dante…"
He paused but didn't turn.
"Don't make the same mistake I did, tiger."
The tavern doors slammed shut behind him.
***
A/N
Updates on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday.
6:00pm WAT