The room was thick with tension, my pulse pounding in my ears as I processed Elara’s words. My mind spun, grasping for some logical explanation, some way to undo what I had just learned. But there was no undoing this. No denying it.
A sharp knock on the door shattered the heavy silence.
Before I could react, the door swung open with force, revealing Tristan. His golden eyes burned with barely contained fury, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he had run all the way here. The weight of his gaze settled on me first, searching, assessing, before flicking to Elara with something close to accusation.
“You told me she was hurt,” he stated, voice low and dangerous.
Elara, completely unfazed, smiled mischievously. “I did.”
I turned to her in shock. “You—?”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “You
