Page 113 of Elas

“He is a force of nature,” I say with a laugh, and Ronan hikes a brow at me.

“Don’t pretend yours is less dangerous because he hides it behind polite words and smiles. Cameron may be a hurricane, but August is a solar flare, and those are just as destructive.” We both chuckle, but there’s little humor to be found. “Be safe,” Ronan finally says, pulling me in to a heavy-armed hug.

I pat his back, soaking in the affection he so rarely shows. “You know I will be.”

“I didn’t mean what I said yesterday,” he murmurs. “If something were to happen to you, I would watch over him. He would always have a home here.” Hot tears spring into my eyes that I fight to blink away.

“Yeah,” I finally rasp, hugging him one last time before pulling back. “Yeah, I know.”

“Off with you, then. Daylight will be here soon.” He reverts to his natural mask of grumpiness as he gestures at the loaded SUV. Barebones necessities sit inside, only what’s needed for the trip. Food, water, a change of clothes, and enough fuel to make it there and back. Optimism is a fragile thing as the logical side of my brain tells me this is a mistake, but after talking with Nyx, everyone’s mindsets have shifted.

In our heads, everyone at Ljómur is like him—tiny, terrified, and broken.

Nyx stands at the treeline, barely visible among the greenery of the forest. He disappeared after we went inside yesterday, though I spotted him at dusk planting his flower in the shade outside his cottage. I meet his eyes in the dim lighting. He doesn’t even blink, but I sense his conflict.

It’s the same as mine.

Guilt for sending us in to his hell, and hope that we can help.

I walk over and band my arm around August’s waist, pulling his back against my chest. “It’s time,” I murmur in his ear. That sense of heaviness increases tenfold, and the oppressive air grows thicker. We say our goodbyes and leave, an uncharacteristic silence between the two of us as the rocky ground bumps beneath our tires. Daylight breaks as we emerge from the forest and find the remnantsof road that lead to our destination. August’s hand wraps through mine, and I fight every instinct in my body that says to turn around and hide him. Tuck him away until he forgets he ever wanted to do this.

But August is light, and I could never dim that glow.

I’ve lived in the darkness, and as it turns out, a life in the dark is no life at all.

So, we drive.

August

Idon’tknowwhatI expected to find when Ljómur appeared in the distance. Pointy watchtowers and razor wire fences, perhaps. A perimeter lined with soldiers holding gleaming swords and automatic rifles. Signs for miles warning to turn around while there was still hope.

I certainly didn’t expect the nondescript brick building lined in small windows. There are no pointed turrets or weapons aimed at us as we approach. There aren’t even any signs, and though there is a tall fence that surrounds the compound, it’s merely chain-link. A few smaller buildings skirt the large one in the center, and guard towers sit in the four corners, just like Nyx said they would.

Overall, I’m underwhelmed.

Elas’s timing was spot on. Only an hour remains until sunset, long past the busiest working hours. Figures appear as we approach, a group of soldiers collecting at the entrance that are nothing but blobs of black leather from here. They solidify into recognizable forms as we drawcloser, and I count heads. Our welcoming party consists of around a dozen.

“Stay in your seat and let me do the talking,” Elas says, his voice strained. We’ve discussed the plan at least ten times during the drive, his jaw tightening a little more with each repetition. I nod obediently, not wanting to add to his stress. “Sure you don’t want to change your mind?” A hopeful edge feeds his teasing, and if I said yes, he’d turn the other direction in a heartbeat and never look back.

“We have to do this, El.” He pushes a resigned sigh from his nose before his entire demeanor shifts. His shoulders straighten, his eyes harden, and a grim set squares his jaw as he transforms from my sweet, playful mate into the well-trained, seasoned soldier that others fear and respect.

“If I treat you badly…”

“I know,” I interrupt, giving his hand a final squeeze before pulling mine to rest in my lap. “I know how you’ll have to be.”

“Never forget that I love you,” he says, and I fight every urge in my body to lunge over and give him one more kiss. To assure him, once again, that his actions could never alter the depth of my feelings.

But there’s no time for dramatics.

We have a job to do.

“I love you, El. Always. Nothing you do will change that.”

“Alright,” he whispers with a nod, his back going ramrod straight as we get close enough to examine those waiting expectantly at the gates. A few species I recognize, all wearing military issued scrubs.

There’s a Bemesse like Flynn, short-statured with a mahogany complexion, and a Curtiphan like Kopros, with peach skin, gangly arms, and that unnerving third eye. There are a few others I’ve seen before but can’t identify. One with black scales and a barbed tail, and another smaller, deep green figure. At first, he resembles Nyx, but as we get closer, his teeth flash in spiky points, and a split tongue flickers between them.

It feels like a threat.

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