Page 14

I glare at him. "You’re about to lose your teeth."

Elias raises both brows. "Hostile. I like it."

Then, deliberately, he looks at Luna, all teeth and dangerous charm.

"Morning, sweetheart."

Her lips twitch. "Elias."

He scratches the back of his neck, pretending to look casual, but his eyes linger too long on her mouth, on the curve of her throat where her pulse beats too fast.

"You know," he says, voice low and conspiratorial, "if you’re bored digging dirt, I’ve got much more interesting things you could be doing."

I groan, dragging a hand over my face.

Luna doesn’t even blink. "Like what?"

Elias grins wickedly. "I could show you my rock collection."

She blinks.

"Silas has a rock collection," she deadpans.

Elias shrugs, smirk widening. "Yeah, but mine’s better. All the rocks are shaped like things I regret."

She laughs, low and warm, and I feel it straight in my chest. Before she can say anything else, Elias drops into a crouch beside us like this isn’t the middle of a cursed graveyard realm we’re pretending is home.

The sun hasn’t broken through the Hollow’s gray shroud in weeks, but it’s warmer now, the kind of warmth that crawls under your skin and makes you forget, for one dangerous second, that this place isn’t trying to swallow us whole.

The dirt’s damp beneath my boots, the smell of earth clinging to the back of my throat as I drag another rusted wheelbarrow toward the edge of the garden. The thing’s older than sin itself, the wheel groaning under the weight of the stones I’ve been prying from the ground like buried bones.

Elias lounges beside her, one arm slung carelessly over his bent knee, grinning like he hasn’t slept in day. He plucks a blade of grass from the ground, holds it between his fingers like a weapon, and flicks his gaze to Luna.

“Wanna see something stupid?” he asks, voice light but curling with something sharp underneath.

She glances up at him, brow arched. “Always.”

He smirks, twists the blade between his fingers, and murmurs something low, a flick of magic threading through his voice. The grass stiffens, straightens like a blade, and hovers between his fingers unnaturally still—time leeching from the thing until it’s frozen mid-bend, sharp as a dagger.

Luna’s mouth quirks. "That’s what you’re doing with your magic now?"

Elias grins wider, like he knows exactly how stupid this is and doesn’t care. "What can I say? I’m a man of simple pleasures."

She snorts, shaking her head, but I can see the way her shoulders ease. The way her eyes soften, crinkle at the corners like she’s trying not to laugh at how fucking absurd this all is.

I shove another rock into the wheelbarrow with too much force, the metal groaning under the weight. “If you’re done showing off, maybe put that grass sword to work.”

Elias doesn’t even look at me. “You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first.”

Luna hums, twisting another blade between her fingers, voice deceptively light. “He’s mad because he’s domesticated.”

I shoot her a look that could cut stone, but she just smiles sweetly at me like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Because she does.

Before I can bite back at either of them, the back door slams open with a bang loud enough to send crows scattering from the rooftop.

And then—

"Be free, my babies!" Silas’s voice carries across the yard like a fucking battle cry.