Page 21 of Beyond the Treaty

The night dragged on, stretching time into something heavy and unrelenting. I remained seated, unmoving, my mind revolving around the same thoughts until they turned into a restless thrum in my chest. Outside the window, the moon dipped lower, shrouded by a thickening layer of clouds. The storm I had sensed brewing earlier in the wind was on its way. It was fitting, I thought, nature itself seemed to mirror the chaos rising within me. I had spent years fighting wars in the shadows, planning every step with cold precision. I didn’t permit distractions to creep in. I didn’t allow weakness to take root. But Elara...

Elara was reversing all of that.

A storm outside grew louder, the wind howling against the walls of the keep and rattling the windowpanes like a warning, or maybe a dare. I sat in the chair, still as stone, my jaw tight, but it did nothing to stop the thoughts that tore through me. No matter how many times I tried to bury them, they would rise again, clawing their way to the surface.

I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this.

But even as I argued with myself, my body betrayed me. Ifound myself on my feet before I realised I had moved, each step toward the door deliberate yet faster than it should have been. A moment of hesitation should have come, some shred of control to pull me back, but there was nothing. The pull toward her had taken hold, deep and unrelenting, and I wasn’t strong enough to deny it any longer.

By the time I arrived at her door, I wasn’t even breathing.

My hand hovered over the wood again for a fleeting moment, but this time, I didn’t hesitate. My fingers curled around the handle, and I pushed the door open, crossing the threshold before I could talk myself out of it.

Elara was there, alive and restless, pacing from one end of the small room to the other like a caged creature. Her brow furrowed, and her arms wrapped tightly around herself as though she were trying to hold her thoughts together. The faint glow of the lantern on the side table flickered, casting shadows across her face and making her look softer and sharper.

She froze mid-step when she heard me, her gaze snapping to mine. I observed how her expression shifted, surprise, confusion, and then something else I couldn’t name, something that kept me locked in place.

“Azrael?” Her voice was soft yet firm, as if she were unsure whether to reprimand me or express gratitude for my presence. “What are you?”

“I...” I paused, the words escaping me. I had no idea what I’d intended to say. I was uncertain about my actions. I just knew I had to be here.

Her gaze searched my face, attempting to read me, and that only intensified the situation. I didn’t want her to see what I couldn’t conceal. I didn’t want her to know how close I was to the edge, how perilous the pull toward her had become.

But then I noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes, the tight set of her shoulders, and the tension in her hands as she gripped her own arms, bracing herself against the weight of everythingshe carried. At that moment, the war raging inside me didn’t matter.

“Why aren’t you resting?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

Elara took a short breath, caught between frustration and fatigue, and looked away. “How am I supposed to rest after tonight? After everything? My mind won’t stop.” She shook her head and began to pace again. “I close my eyes, and all I see are their faces. The Council. Kaelen. The lies they’ve spun. The damage they’ve done. It’s too much.”

I took a step forward before I could stop myself, the door clicking shut quietly behind me. “You’ll burn out if you don’t stop,” I said, softer this time. “You need to sleep, Elara.”

She let out a soft, bitter laugh, sharp as a knife. “And you think you don’t?” Her eyes locked onto mine again, holding me in place. “I can hear you pacing down the hall. You don’t sleep either.”

I chose not to argue; she was correct.

We stared at each other for a long moment, the silence thick between us, broken only by the faint patter of rain against the windows. Something shifted in the air, an unspoken tension settling over us, and I couldn’t look away from her. Her fire, anger, and weariness were all there, open and raw, and I wanted to do something to ease it.

I took another step closer. “Elara...”

Her name emerged roughly, resembling a plea more than anything else. She blinked up at me, her lips parting slightly, and for a moment, everything stilled: the storm outside, the war awaiting us, the chaos in my mind.

It was just her.

And I wanted so desperately to reach for her, to pull her closer and promise that I’d protect her from everything... the Council, the bond, the war, the weight of it all. I yearned to shield her from the world, to take on her burdens if it meant she could breathe for even a moment.

But it wasn’t solely that.

The selfish part of me desired more. I yearned to feel her warmth, to tuck her hair behind her ear, to let my hands linger where they shouldn’t. I craved to close the distance between us and taste the sharp edge of her words on her lips, wondering if her fire burned just as fiercely in a kiss as it did in everything else.

I clenched my fists by my sides, attempting to steady myself.

Elara watched me intently, her brow relaxing as though she could sense the storm brewing within me. “What is it?” she asked, her voice now softer and more probing.

I shook my head, attempting to pull myself back from the edge, from whatever madness had seized me. “Nothing. I just...” I looked away for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “You’re not alone in this. I need you to know that.”

Her gaze softened even more, and I felt it, like a blade slicing through my chest.

“I know,” she whispered.

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