Elle POV
I don’t hesitate.
That’s the first thing I notice as we walk the inner corridor toward the training halls—that there is no instinct in me urging retreat, no familiar itch to hide behind silence. The old me would have delayed. Would have told herself later was safer. That keeping questions buried was how you survived.
But silence is what lets rot take root.
“If this is about my safety,” I say quietly as we move through the stone passageway, “then I don’t want half-answers.”
Our footsteps echo softly against the ancient floor, the fortress humming faintly around us. Blake’s hand tightens around mine almost immediately.
“Elle—” he starts.
“I know,” I interrupt gently, squeezing his fingers. “You’ll be right there. I’m not asking to face anything alone. I’m asking to face it ho
