Elara’s POV
The potion was cool against my lips, the taste bitter like rain soaked with ash. It swirled inside me, thick and heavy, settling in my stomach with a strange warmth. For a moment, everything stilled—the river’s flow, the soft rustling of the trees. Even the moon seemed to dim as if the world itself had taken a breath and held it.
Sergio stood in front of me, his eyes fixed on mine. There was something unreadable in his expression, something that made my stomach twist even more than the potion did. He was watching me too closely, too patiently, like he was waiting for something. The Sergio I knew never watched people like that. He never had that kind of cold detachment in his eyes.
But I ignored the nagging feeling. This was Sergio, I told myself, the man who had once fought
