Elira didn't sleep.
The bed was too soft, the silence too loud and her skin still carried the phantom heat of his touch. She stared at the ceiling black stone laced with veins of pulsing red until her eyes burned and her body ached with exhaustion.
She wasn't used to safety.
And this didn't feel like safety.
It felt like waiting.
Something shifted outside her door.
Elira sat up sharply, heart thudding. The candles flickered the air grew colder, despite the ever-present heat that pulsed from the walls.
Then tap… tap… tap…
A sound, like nails on stone. Scraping, Deliberate, Wrong.
She slid off the bed silently bare feet padding across the cool floor, she didn't open the door just pressed her ear against it.
A voice whispered from the other side. "Elira…"
It wasn't Ravion's voice ,it was too soft, too sweet dripping with sugar and rot.
"Elira, help me…"
Her blood turned to ice.
It was a child's voice.
No, not a child something pretending.
She backed away slowly, remembering his warning: If something calls your name, don't answer.
The voice came again, cracked and broken now, "You let me die…"
Elira squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the twist in her stomach.
It wasn't real.
It couldn't be real.
Then the handle turned slowly. Purposefully.
The door never opened.
A heavy knock rang through the chamber like a drumbeat.
"Elira," this voice was deeper. Rougher and Real.
Ravion.
She stumbled toward the door and yanked it open, relief crashing into her like a wave.
He stood there, shirtless again ,why was he always shirtless and scowling. His eyes scanned her quickly, noting the panic on her face, the tension in her limbs.
"They came already," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "I thought they'd wait longer."
"What was that?" she demanded.
"One of the lesser shades," he said, stepping into the room without asking. "They're scavengers, feed off fear,they sniffed out your magic."
"You said they wouldn't come near if I stayed inside."
"I said not to leave the room, didn't say they wouldn't knock." He turned to face her fully, jaw tight. "Did you open it?"
"No," she snapped, then paused,"Almost."
His eyes flared gold.
"Next time, don't."
"Next time?" she echoed unbelievingly , "How many next times do you expect there to be?"
He stepped closer, "As many as it takes."
Elira crossed her arms,"You act like I chose this."
"You did," he said, quietly now, "You just didn't know what you were choosing."
She hated the way his voice softened when he said that. Like he pitied her,like he saw right through her and he did.
His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from her face gentle, almost reverent. She froze.
"You've got fight in you," he murmured "But that won't be enough down here, you need to learn how to survive."
"And you're going to teach me?" she asked, breath catching.
"I'm the only one who can."
His hand dropped and he stepped back, the warmth of him fading with distance.
"Get dressed we leave at dawn."
"Where are we going now?"
He gave her a crooked grin, "To meet the rest of my court."
"Your… court?" she echoed.
"They're going to want to see the witch who bound their prince."
That silenced her.
Not the devil. Not the creature. Their prince.
And now… hers?
She watched him go, his footsteps silent despite the weight of him. When the door shut behind him, she stood still in the silence he left behind, pulse still racing.
Outside, the whispers didn't return.
But inside her mind, something new had begun to stir uneasy, uncertain… and undeniably drawn to the fire that walked beside her.