Page 7 of Elas

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re annoyingly perky?”

A chuckle escapes my lips as I rise, brushing the dust from my hands. “Lots of people.”

“Has anyone told youtoday?”

I flash her another grin and toss her a wink. “Lots of people.”

A bright burst of light cuts through the darkness of the hallway, and the loud, metallic squeal of the hinges makes me jump. The noises in this place take a while to get used to. That creak of a door in a sunny, familiar building would be ignored, but in this dark prison, it’s ominous.

We don’t get many visitors, and those that come are on a strict schedule. This one is an outlier. Dinner was served thirty minutes ago, and the cleaning crew doesn’t normally pass through for another hour. Curiosity has me wandering closer to the door with the rest of the crowd.

A single set of heavy footsteps thump down the corridor. They don’t seem to be in a hurry, meandering along in a lazy stroll until they stop directly in front of our cell door. The hallway’s weak light is almost entirely blocked by his monstrous frame, forming a sliver of a silhouette around the beast of a male.

“I’m looking for August.”

Surprise makes my brows flick up as everyone turns to stare at me. “Oh, uh, hi. Yes, that’s me.” I clear my throat, a nervous chuckle slipping free. “Apologies, you caught me off guard. Let’s try this again, shall we? Hello, I’m August. How may I help you?”

The others step out of my way as I walk to the door, offering a tentative smile to the person that stands beyond the bars.

He’senormous.

Arms rest at his side that I’d wager are bigger than my thighs, and I’m no pixie. My head cranes as I get closer, tilting my neck to look at him. Muted blue skin only shows itself where his military leathers don’t cover, and he’s built like a tank underneath them. Long, thin braids weave along his scalp before curtaining over his shoulders, and two small tusks protrude from his lower jaw.

A warrior, in every sense of the word.

But his eyes…

Despite the flickering lights and the oppressive gloom of the prison, an unmistakable happiness lives inside them. They’re warm, even through his attempt to scowl at me. A grin pulls on my lips, and his brows furrow when he spots it. He gives a small shake of his head as he clears his throat. “Youare August?”

“The one and only, I’m afraid. Well, maybe not theonlyone here… wherever here is. How would I know, right? But I’m definitely the only one in this prison.” Sudden silence rings in my ears as I force myself to stop talking.

What the heck is going on with me and the rambling?

“Do you always talk this much?” There’s a touch of amusement in his tone, and I shoot him an apologetic smile.

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.” He returns my smile momentarily, seeming to forget he’s pretending to be grumpy. I beam at him, but he quickly twists his face back into a scowl. “Well… you were looking for me and you’ve found me. What can I do for you?”

Keys jingle in his hand as he shakes them. “If I open this door, are you going to try anything stupid?”

“No, of course not.”

His pointed look is heavy with skepticism, and he arches a thick brow. Dark, assessing eyes roam over my body, and I hold perfectly still for his inspection. Life in the wilderness has taught me that when a predator is present, it’s best to let them make the first move.

And there is no question which of us is the alpha.

He must decide that whatever he sees is satisfactory, because a slow nod and the click of the lock follow. I step obediently into the hallway as he locks the door behind us, and he studies me again. “Come with me.”

There’s no other way to describe his movements other than hestruts. Shoulders thrown back, hips loose, with all the confidence in the world. My eyes wander over his enormous frame as I trail behind him, nerves churning in my stomach. I rack my brain, wondering why he would need to speak tome, of all people. A rule follower, down to my very bones. A helper.

He stops abruptly, and I’m so focused on my thoughts I almost run straight into his back. Anotherperfectly arched brow lifts on his face as he glances at me over his shoulder, and I smile a little wider than what’s strictly necessary. He huffs a laugh and unlocks a door, and we walk into a room with a table in the center and a chair on either side.

I skid to a stop as my heart lodges in my throat. “Whoa, am I in some sort of trouble?”

“Should you be?”

My eyes widen, and he seems amused as a grin tugs on the corner of his mouth. “No?”

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