Grewald

She hesitated. "Months."

Verion flinched. Months? He had lost months of his life?

Elena, ever unbothered, flopped onto a nearby chair, propping her feet up on the table. "Oh, and don't forget—Lucius wanted to throw you out just now, but Kiara here decided to be all noble and self-sacrificing." She shot Kiara a teasing look. "I mean, honestly, you could've at least made him grovel a little before pledging yourself to exile."

Kiara shot her a glare. "You are not helping."

Elena grinned. "I never help."

Verion, still dazed, turned back to Kiara. His gaze softened as he studied her, his mind trying to grasp onto something familiar. There was something about her—her presence, her voice—that made him feel at ease, though he couldn't explain why.

"...And you," he said slowly, "we're...?"

Kiara's breath hitched. She knew the question before he even asked it.

What were they?