"Run, Eleanor!"
Her father’s voice was urgent, desperate. His hands gripped her shoulders as he pushed her toward the shadows.
Eleanor’s heart pounded, her legs tensed, ready to move—
Then, the air shifted.
A chill ran through the room.
And he appeared.
Silas.
His tall, imposing figure stepped through the door, his gray eyes void of warmth. He was dressed in all black, his usual calm demeanor now laced with something dangerous. Behind him, Lucien stormed in, his rage palpable, his eyes glowing a murderous red. Dorian followed, his face impassive, but his clenched jaw told a different story. Then came Cassius and Viktor, their eyes scanning the room, assessing the danger. They all stopped in front of Eleanor, a silent, deadly wall of protection.
Her father exhaled in relief, but Eleanor barely had time to process what was happening when another presence made itself known. The rival king.
He strode in like he owned the room, his long black coat trailing behind him, his crimson gaze locked on Eleanor.
"Hand her over," he commanded, his voice smooth yet menacing.
Silas didn’t even blink. "That’s never going to happen."
Lucien took a step forward, his entire body coiled with fury. "You must be out of your mind to think we’d give her to you."
The rival king smirked, tilting his head. "You act as if you have a choice."
Eleanor stood frozen between them, her heart hammering.
Why? Why did they want her?
Was it because she wasn’t human?
Or was it because of the girl before her? The one who—
"Come to me," the rival king’s voice cut through her thoughts like a blade. His piercing eyes locked onto hers. "If you don’t want to die like the last one."
Eleanor’s stomach dropped. Her fingers curled into fists. The last one. The girl who came before her.
She swallowed hard. "What happened to her?"
The rival king’s lips curled into a wicked smile. "She trusted them." His gaze flicked to the Valerian brothers. "And look where it got her."
A cold dread wrapped around Eleanor’s chest.
She wanted to deny it, to say he was lying, but the way he looked at her—
He wasn’t bluffing. Something inside her cracked. A heavy silence filled the room. Then Silas moved beside her and took her hand. His grip was firm, reassuring. "Don’t listen to him," he murmured.
The warmth of his palm against hers sent a shiver up her arm. For a brief moment, she felt safe. But then— The rival king’s next words shattered that illusion.
"They killed her."
Eleanor’s breath caught in her throat.
"They killed her," he repeated, his voice smooth as silk, yet laced with poison. "The five of them."
Her world tilted. She turned to the brothers, her mind racing.
No. No, they wouldn’t. Would they?
Lucien’s jaw tightened, his anger barely restrained. Dorian’s face remained unreadable, giving nothing away. Cassius and Viktor stood still, their eyes dark with something unspoken.
But Silas…
Silas didn’t deny it. Her chest tightened, the weight of the moment settling on her. Her fingers twitched, restless, then—without thinking—she yanked her hand away.
Silas’s gaze snapped to hers, something pained flickering in his silver eyes.
But she couldn’t focus on that
Not now.
Not when the truth was threatening to crush her.
The girl before her had died.
And now… she had no idea who to trust.