Page 18 of Elas

“Holy hells, that looks incredible.” He lets out a groan that’s borderline inappropriate as he beelines over. “Is thatsteak?”

Just like that, the awkwardness vanishes, and we both drop into our seats. He wastes no time cutting off a piece of meat that’s entirely too big and shoving it into his mouth. After a few bites, his tense posture relaxes, and he tells me about his day.

The longer he speaks, the angrier I get. Every new face he encountered had an opinion. Many only sneered at him, others insulted him, while some outright refused to be treated while he was in the room.

“Gods, the things they called me,” he mutters as he tears off another piece of bread. “Murderer.Slaughterer. None of them listened when I told them I had nothing to do with the attacks.” His hazel eyes are heavy when they meet mine. “I only wanted to help them, Elas.”

“I’m not defending their actions, but imagine the roles were reversed. One of my kind in your camp, claiming they were there to help. How would your people handle it?”

“That’s fair, I guess,” he mumbles.

“It’snotfair, but not much in this world is anymore.”

He deflates, stabbing at a few stray green beans on his plate. “So, what? I just accept that they hate me? Grow thicker skin?”

“No,” I say simply, and he glances up at me through his golden lashes. “You give ittime. It’s been a few hours, August. You don’t strike me as the impatient type, so why are you trying to rush this?”

“Stop bringing logic into this,” he pouts, “I want to mope.” The defeat is out of place, a foreign mask on the man who greeted me in the cells with a beaming smile.

“You’re allowed to mope, but only for a little while.”

“Can I ask you something?” he asks, and I nod, sitting back in my seat and patting my deliciously full stomach. “When you first came to the prison, you said you were there because Cameron mentioned me. How do you know him?”

“Do you remember that same day when you asked me about my knuckles?” He nods, and I stare down at my hand even though the wounds have healed. “You’ve heard me mention Ronan. We’ve been close since we were young, and Cameron and him… well. They’re together.”

His brows fly high on his forehead. “Cameron didn’t exactly seem too fond of your kind.”

I snort, still staring at my hand. “Cameron doesn’t seem fond of anybody.”

“Valid point,” he chuckles. “So they’re together? Is it serious?”

Another quiet laugh pushes from my nose, but I decide to bypass the conversation about how serious it really is. Not only is their story complicated, but it’s not my placeto share the news of his mate. Ronan wouldn’t appreciate his secrets being spread, even if I trust August.

Instead, I say, “Serious enough that Ronan broke him out of the prison and ran off with him in the night.”

August’s eyes go wide. “Oh.”

“Yeah.Oh.”

“When you said you’d lost someone, you were talking about him? And your commander?”

“If I had to guess, Commander Bravis suspected something was going on with Ronan, and went after him. Ronan’s skilled with a sword, and he’s one of the few that could beat Bravis in a fair fight.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and there’s genuine sympathy in his eyes when I meet them again. That expression on others has always made me defensive. It’s a useless emotion, after all, and wasted on the likes of me.

Warriors don’tneedsympathy.

But on him, I find I don’t mind it so much. That need to prove how tough I am, to establish myself as the alpha, is missing. I’m content to just… be.

Be Elas, without the pressure to be more.

“I’m sorry, too,” I finally say. “I hate feeling helpless, but this time, there’s nothing I can do.”

Another sad smile crosses his face, before his eyes crinkle in something bordering on mischievous. “Alright, that’s enough pity parties for tonight. Let’s distract each other. What’s the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you?”

“Damn, doc knows how to pull punches after all, doesn’t he?” He grins again, more relaxed this time. “Alright, I’ll share, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“We talked about this already. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

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