Page 74 of Orc's Redemption

He laughs, bitter and broken. I touch his arm. Slowly. Lightly.

“But that doesn’t change what’s between us.”

He catches my wrist. Not hard. But firm.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispers.

“Then don’t do it alone.”

His eyes search mine. Something flickers in him. Not surrender, not yet, but the first crack in the wall. He releases me and takes a step back.

“Go. I need to think.”

I don’t move.

“You need todecide,Al’fa.Time is running out.”

He nods once, sharply. We stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment then I leave him standing there, the sigil burning in his hand—too hot to hold, yet impossible to release.

I don’t look back.

But I feel his gaze branded into my skin, all the way back to my room.

28

ELARA

The chamber hums with a low vibration I feel in my bones—less a sound, more the ghost of some enormous thing breathing beneath us.

I sit on the cool stone floor between Z’leni and Ryatuv, trying to steady my own breath.

My limbs are still trembling from the crawl through the tunnels and the fear that overcame me. My muscles burn with a fatigue so deep it feels carved into my soul, baked into the marrow of my bones. The soft glow of the crystals gives the space we’re huddling in a dreamlike quality, too beautiful for what we just endured. Too beautiful for what I know must be coming next.

Z’leni hands me a canteen. His fingers brush mine, barely, but it’s enough to send a ripple up my arm. He doesn’t look away when I meet his eyes. There’s something unspoken and steady in them, burning far too bright for the darkness we’ve endured.

I sip the water, grateful even though my stomach is knotted with nerves. As I pass it back I notice that Ryatuv is watching. Unmoving and silent like always. His presence is different and I take the moment to contrast the two men. Z’leni is fire—bright, reckless. Ryatuv is gravity—silent, immovable. Each is dangerous in his own way.

“Children?” Ryatuv hisses, stepping to the side to move around me.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and push all the feeling and thoughts into a box. Right now survival is first. There is no telling if we’ll even be able to pull that off. I wrap my arms around my knees in an attempt to anchor myself, but my mind won’t stop spinning.

“I don’t know how much farther I can go,” I whisper. “I almost broke.”

“But you didn’t,” Z’leni says.

Ryatuv doesn’t say anything, but he shifts closer, enough that his knee is brushing against mine. He doesn’t apologize for the touch. Doesn’t flinch from it either. And for some reason, it makes my throat tighten. Z’leni shifts his gaze from me to Ryatuv then exhales and rises, brushing dust from his pants.

“We can’t stay here. These tunnels are too close to the old city’s roots. If there is another tremor?—”

Ryatuv nods, already moving to stand.

“She needs rest, but you are right, we are not yet safe.”

Z’leni offers me his hand. It’s rough, callused, and warm. I hesitate, not sure why, then take it. When I’m upright, Ryatuv steadies me from the other side, his palm strong and firm at my back. For a moment, I’m between them, braced by fire and stone.

Something flares in my chest. Instantaneous. White hot and burning furiously as it creeps over my chest and onto my cheeks. I can’t look at either of them as my breath hitches, catching in my chest.

I know there is no way they miss it, but they are both kind enough to not call me out and we set off again. The tunnel opens into a passage, wide enough for us to walk upright. The walls on either side are carved with faded markings. As we go deeper, the heat builds. Not the usual dry heat of Tajss—this is heavier. Thicker. Like the air itself is sweating.

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