Page 59 of The Shattered Rite

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She didn’t reach for it.

“What’s the catch?”

He smiled like she’d passed a test. “No catch. Call it professional courtesy.”

“I’m not a professional.”

“No. But you’re something.”

She hesitated. He grabbed it and held it out towards her, their fingers brushed in her haste to grab it quickly.

Gods, his hand was cold.

“I don’t owe you for this,” she said, stepping back.

“Of course not.”

She hated how flippant he sounded.

“Why help me?”

His smile was soft. Sad, even.

“Because I’ve seen too many people die without knowing why.”

She blinked.

And for one disorienting moment, she thought maybe he meant it.

Malric nodded toward the book. “Read carefully. They lie even in records.”

And with that, he turned.

“No cryptic goodbye?” she called after him, pulse still racing.

At the threshold, he paused.

“I already said it.”

“Did you?”

He glanced back.

Then he was gone.

Eliryn stood in the empty silence for a long while, the book warm in her hand.

In her mind, Vaeronth spoke.

I do not like him.

“Neither do I.”

A beat.

Then softly, she admitted: “I’m not sure that’s going to matter.”

And she hated how true that felt.

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