The elf’s breath came unevenly, golden eyes flickering like molten embers caught between rage and desperation. The vines that had once threatened to strangle them now quivered with indecision.
For the first time, Clara realized the elf wasn’t untouchable. She was faltering, teetering on a line between power and ruin.
Clara stood free now, the vines around her wrists having fallen away. She rubbed the sore flesh absently, though her attention never left Kael and the elf pressed against the glowing tree.
Her heart hammered in her chest, panic and something hotter mingling until she could hardly breathe. She remembered the way she had once teased Kael, back when things were almost laughable—when they had joked about him saving the world by bedding every woman he came across. She’d laughe
