Page 17

The water gurgles between us. For a long moment, he doesn’t answer. Then he says, “I’m… buying time. I have to think of a plan. A way to keep you hidden until it’s safe.”

“Safe from who?”

A dark laugh rumbles in his throat. “From gargoyles. From the Alpha. From the dark elves. Take your pick. The entire world seems set on killing you.”

My heart sinks. I can’t argue. A wave of weariness washes over me, and I slump a little, letting the stream cool my foot. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” I whisper. “I just wanted to be free.”

His gaze softens, startling me. “I know.”

I swallow hard, turning my face away so he can’t see the helpless tears gathering in my eyes.Curse him for making me feel anything but hatred.The hush of the forest is broken only by the burbling water and the occasional rustle of leaves overhead. My ankle pulses in time with my racing pulse.

After a few minutes, I bite my lip, deciding to push him further. “What if I left anyway?” I rasp. “What if I took my chances out there?”

His hand drifts to my forearm, gently but firmly. The touch of his claws sends a shiver through me, too close to a caress. “You’d die,” he murmurs. “Either from your injury, the dark elves, or my own kind.”

I want to rage at him, but I can’t deny the truth. I twist my arm out of his grip, ignoring the odd pang of loss. “At least I’d be choosing for myself,” I say bitterly.

He nods, lips pressed tight. “You might be right. But for now… let me help you.” He stands, towering over me. The sun glints off his horns, and I’m reminded of just how inhuman he is. “Come on. Let’s get you back before your foot goes numb.”

Sighing, I tug my foot from the cold water. Pain lances my ankle as soon as it’s exposed to the air. I hide a wince. Korrin extends a hand, and though it galls me, I place my trembling fingers in his. He lifts me effortlessly, one arm around my waist for balance. Our bodies nearly touch, and I suppress a shiver.

We make the slow trek back to the ruin. My mind whirls with conflicting emotions—resentment at being manhandled, relief that he’s not forcing me to walk alone, and confusion about how gentle his hold is. The chain at my collar jingles softly, a reminder thatkindnessor not, I’m still under his control.

Inside the tower, he settles me by the rekindled fire. The flames crackle with renewed warmth. My muscles ache, and I realize I haven’t eaten anything substantial since… the day before yesterday? The fortress rations were pitiful at best. My stomach growls, echoing in the quiet space. Heat crawls up my neck at the thought of him hearing.

He arches a brow ridge, rummaging through a battered satchel near the wall. He pulls out a small hunk of dried meat—maybe from some forest game. My nose wrinkles, but my stomach betrays me, growling louder. “Eat,” he says simply, tossing the bundle to me.

I catch it reflexively. Glare at him. But I’m too hungry to resist. I tear off a piece with my teeth, chewing the tough meat. It’s surprisingly flavorful, salty and earthy.Better than I expected from a gargoyle’s stash.He watches me, expression carefully blank. Something about his scrutiny makes me snap, “Do you mind?”

He looks away, wings rustling. “I’m… going to check the perimeter,” he mutters. “Stay put.” That last phrase is laced witha warning. Then he strides off, leaving me alone again in the flickering glow.

The dried meat does little to quell the whirlwind of my thoughts. My chest feels tight. I wrap my arms around myself, leaning closer to the fire. My ankle throbs less, thanks to his root poultice and the stream soak, but my mind roils with uncertainty.He’s not like any gargoyle or dark elf I’ve ever heard of.He kills easily, but with no apparent joy. He kidnaps me, yet tries to keep me comfortable. He speaks of me deserving a chance, yet chains me here.

I close my eyes, remembering the fortress, the gloom of the kennel, the brutality of the overseers. I escaped that nightmare, only to be caught in the orbit of a gargoyle who insists he won’t kill me. But for how long? One slip, and maybe his instincts take over.

My free hand drifts to my collar, fingertips brushing the cold metal. My chest constricts with mingled despair and the faintest flicker of hope. Because, deep down, I suspect he’s telling the truth—he doesn’t want to kill me. Maybe he truly means to protect me. But can I trust that motive, knowing how monstrous gargoyles can be?

And then there’s the rumor that I might havepurnablood. The dark elves always suspected it, but I never felt any magic in my veins. If, by some cruel twist, it awakens… I shudder. I’ve heard the old stories: witches who burned entire armies alive, who twisted dark elves into monstrous gargoyles. Or so the legends say. The possibility that I could wield such destructive power terrifies me almost as much as my captivity.

But for now, I’m just a battered slave, held by a gargoyle who’s defied his own kin to spare me.The strangeness of the situation is overwhelming. If I’d been told a week ago that I’d be sharing a ruin with a gargoyle while he tended my wounds, I’d have laughed. Or spat. Yet here I am.

The silence stretches. Eventually, the fatigue of the day’s events weighs me down. The fire’s warmth lulls me, tempting me to rest. My eyelids droop. I fight the urge, not wanting to be vulnerable in the presence of a potential killer. But my body has endured too much—escape attempts, injuries, fear, adrenaline. Slowly, my head sags, my thoughts drifting like the smoke curling above the flames.

A scraping sound makes me jump. My eyes fly open. Korrin’s returned, carrying a small pail of stream water. He sets it near the fire to warm, then glances at me. I blink, pulse speeding up.How long have I dozed?He studies me for a beat, then clears his throat.

“You can rest if you want,” he says, his voice oddly gruff. “There’s nowhere else to go. And I’m not… I won’t hurt you.” The admission seems to cost him something, as though it goes against centuries of conditioning.

I swallow hard, conflicting emotions swirling. I want to hurl every insult at him for daring to keep me here. Another part wants to collapse, letting the exhaustion claim me. “I’m not going to nap at your command,” I mumble, forcing my spine straighter.

His lips twitch, almost a wry smile. “Suit yourself.” He turns away, adding a few logs to the fire. Sparks fly upward, dancing in the dim space. The flickering light catches his wings, making them glow faintly—like molten stone.

I rub my collar absently, ignoring the stinging salt of tears behind my eyes.This is my reality now, for better or worse.If I truly want to escape, I’ll need to bide my time, regain my strength, and figure out how to slip away from a gargoyle who can track me effortlessly. I can’t rely on that same gargoyle’s good graces forever. So I remain silent, hugging my knees to my chest.

Minutes pass. Neither of us speaks. He sits on the opposite side of the fire, stoking the flames occasionally, glancing my way as if to ensure I’m not about to do anything reckless. My ankle pulses, and I recall the relief of the stream’s chill. As reluctant as I am to admit it, his healing measures helped. A tiny traitorous voice wonders if, when dawn comes again, he’ll bring me more roots for the swelling or maybe find me some real food.

Despite my fury, I’m forced to acknowledge the seeds of an odd, tentative trust.He’s not hurting me. He’s not letting me starve.That’s more than I’ve known in so long. The thought digs under my skin, warring with my determination to remain angry.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, eyes fixed on the collar’s chain.I hate you,I think, directing it toward him, or fate, or both. Yet the words ring hollow when I recall how gently he cradled my foot or how he carefully avoided jarring my injury on the way back.Why does he care so much?He claims it’s to keep me alive for reasons unknown. Maybe he’s just toying with me, or maybe he’s sincere in wanting to protect me. The uncertainty gnaws at me, stoking a slow burn of frustration.