Eve
The hallways of the Obsidian Tower were dim and quiet, too quiet for what trembled in my arms.
Elliot didn't move.
He hadn't spoken, hadn't even blinked since I pulled him into my arms and told him we were going somewhere safe. His body was stiff, unnaturally still, like he was bracing for impact that hadn't come yet—or one he knew was coming.
Kael walked ahead of us, silent. Tense.
He didn't look back, but I could see the flex of his jaw, the way his fingers curled at his sides with every step. He was angry. Not at Elliot. Not at me. At everything.
I understood.
I was angry too.
The elevator hissed open as we reached the lower sectors. Not the cells. Not the armories. But deeper still—beneath the heart of the tower, where the walls breathed softly with warmth and the scent of sterile herbs hung in the air.
The Delta Wing.
Where healing began. And sometimes… where the broken were remade.
Kael stepped aside, finally meeting my eyes. "They're waiting," he said quietly.
