Her head bowed.
And then, slowly, she stood.
Her legs almost gave out, but she stayed upright, one hand still clutching Finn’s. Her chin lifted. She was still defiant, still wild, still something ancient in a girl’s body.
I nodded to Leo, who knelt to lift Finn.
“Gently,” she snapped, her voice brittle.
Leo met her eyes. “I promise.”
She didn’t thank him. Just turned to me.
“I know who you are,” she said. “I know what you do to people. You destroy and you kill, indiscriminately.” She stepped up, this small creature, full of fire and hatred.
“But you will not break me.”
I’d heard it before. Empty defiance, bravado in the face of chains. But this? This was something else. I didn’t just believe her. I felt it.
Chapter 7
Elira
I was bundled onto the back of an old wooden carriage, the planks creaking beneath our weight. Finn lay limp across my lap, and I stroked his sweat-dampened hair, murmuring soft comforts I wasn’t sure he could hear. His skin, once burning, was cooler now. His breathing had eased from its earlier ragged wheeze. Colour had returned to his cheeks—faint, but there.
Still, he was far from safe.
The canvas flaps rustled, and one of the Shades climbed in. Phoenix. He sat opposite me, his posture stiff, as if unsure whether to speak or to simply study me like some unsolvable puzzle.
He was too beautiful for a world like this. Grey eyes like a gathering storm, red hair that looked too soft to belong to a killer. I turned away from him, unwilling to fall for a mask I knew too well.
“What happened to him?” Phoenix finally asked, his voice too calm for my liking.
I didn’t look at him. “One ofyoursentinels shattered his knee,” I snapped, sharper than I meant to be. “The wound is infected. It’s killing him”.
“Is that why you were within the keep walls? You were looking for a way to save him.”
I swallowed and looked towards the small window beside me. “I failed.”
The carriage jolted violently over a broken patch of road. Finn moaned, his leg catching on the side of the wooden bench. He twisted, his face tightening in pain, and I cradled him closer, whispering his name over and over like that could protect him.
Phoenix shifted forward, “I’m sorry…”
I raised my hand. “Don’t,” I warned, my voice low and ragged. “Don’t pretend to care.”
“I’m not pretending,” he said quietly, watching me. “I just… didn’t expect this.”
“What, a girl like me caring for another person?” I laughed bitterly. “We’re full of surprises, us street rats.”
Phoenix didn’t reply.
I glanced up briefly, catching the flicker of something uncertain in his gaze—something almost like regret. But I didn’t trust it. I couldn’t afford to.
I focused on Finn instead, brushing the hair from his face again.
The silence between us settled like dust. Heavy. Unspoken.
Outside, the city still burned. And inside this cart, I didn’t know who I hated more—Phoenix, the King, or myself.
