Arina's boots crunched faintly against the broken marble, but her thoughts wandered far away from the chamber.
The fire of the potion still lingered in her veins, but with it came something else. Something foreign.
She had felt Aiden's pain. His ache. His breath inside her breath.
And just before the bond had set, when the light had closed around them, she had felt something else—something she dared not name.
She glanced at him. His body was bruised, his face pale, but his eyes carried that same maddening steadiness. She shut her mouth quickly, pressing her lips into a thin line.
Not here. Not in front of the elf.
The mission was done. Her sickness was cured. Their work here was finished.
"lets Leave," she muttered, voice taut. "We've lingered long enough."
But before they could move, Ilyana's voice pierced the silence.
"...Wait."
