“The Shade Tower claimed me because I burned someone’s arm off during a street fight.” I shrugged. “I didn’t mean to. I just... snapped.”
“You were scared.”
“Something like that.”
She was quiet for a beat. Then: “Do you ever feel like your anger is older than you are? Like it doesn’t even belong to you?”
I turned my head to look at her. “Every day.”
Her shoulders sank like the tension had bled out of her. “Sometimes I think there’s something wrong with me. Something broken that can never be fixed.”
“You’re not broken, Elle,” I said, voice low.
“Thanks,” she said. “Even if you’re just saying that to stop me spiralling.”
“I don’t do flattery,” I said with a faint smirk. “If I say you matter, it’s because you do.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. Then she lay back again, her head turning toward mine on the cold stone floor. Our shoulders brushed again.
“I don’t want to sleep,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
“Then don’t,” I said. “We’ll just lie here. No pressure. No dreams.”
“Thanks Phoenix.”
For a long time, we stayed there, staring up at the high ceiling of the training hall. She didn’t cry. I didn’t ask anything more.
Sometimes, silence said enough.
Chapter 27
Elira
Someone was watching me.
The sun was dipping low, bleeding orange across the stone walls of the training yard. I moved through the familiar motions—jab, pivot, duck, throw—but my mind wasn’t on the drills.
I could feel it again.
That crawling sensation. Like someone’s eyes were crawling up the back of my neck. I stopped mid-movement, my dagger lowered, breath stilled.
The far end of the yard was still empty. Nothing but shadows and silence.
Still, the feeling didn’t fade.
It had been happening for days now—this prickling awareness. Always just out of reach. In the corridor outside the library. In the courtyard at dawn. Once, even in the mirror hall, when I thought I saw a flicker of movement behind me—but when I turned, there was nothing but my own reflection.
It was making me paranoid.
Slade watched me twitching as I looked around the arena.
“You ok?” he said, stepping up beside me. His massive presence was like a balm for my soul.
He kept his voice low, but I sensed the concern.
“I’m okay, Grumpy Bear,” I said, forcing a small smile. “Just... thought I saw something.”
He narrowed his eyes, following my line of sight across the yard. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”
