Chapter 82

Unquiet Truths

The small fire crackled quietly, its flames licking upward, casting orange light across tired faces. Lara sat at the edge of the circle, her knees drawn up to her chest, the silver key cool in her palm. The others murmured in low voices around her—snatches of conversation about supplies, strategy, and survival—but they were distant, faint, as though muffled behind thick glass.

Her mind was elsewhere.

Elias.

He sat across from her now, as if nothing had ever been wrong. He looked… fine. Too fine. His skin, once pale and slick with sweat, had regained its warmth. His movements, which should have been slow and stiff from his wounds, were smooth and effortless. His green eyes, the ones that once softened when they met hers, now held something behind them. Something veiled.

And there was what he whispered in her ear.

"It's better this way."

She hadn't understood at first. The relief of seeing him alive had been too overwhelming. But the words gnawed at her now. What did he mean? Better… for who?

Her fingers closed tighter around the key.

Lara's gaze shifted. The others were focused on the fire, on the food. Jack laughed at something Roman muttered under his breath. Caleb stared silently at the dark horizon, chewing absently. Margot sat stiffly, her back straight, her eyes fixed on the flame but seeing something far away.

None of them noticed Elias watching her.

His gaze was steady, unblinking, like a predator observing prey. Yet there was no malice in it. That was what made it worse. It was as if he was watching her for a reason, waiting for something. Or deciding something.

She forced herself to look away.

She told herself she was imagining things. She was tired. They all were. Her body ached in places she didn't even realize existed, and the mental strain of what they'd endured at Sujay left her raw. Vulnerable. Untrusting.

But Lara had learned to listen to her instincts.

And something wasn't right.

She sifted through the images in her mind—the memory of Sujay's blood-soaked halls, the shadowy figures that had whispered lies in the dark. She remembered Margot's mother, Elene, and her hollow, soulless eyes. She remembered the Anchor's cold promises.

But most of all, she remembered the way Elias had fought. How he'd seemed so powerful, so unstoppable… until suddenly, he wasn't.

Why was he so weak?

Why did the Anchor hesitate?

Why did Elias collapse in front of them like a puppet whose strings had been cut—yet now sit there as if none of it happened?

And the mark on his chest.

She hadn't told the others about it. A crescent-shaped scar, like a half-moon carved into his flesh, just over his heart. It pulsed faintly when she'd bandaged his wounds, the way the silver key pulsed in her hand. It was familiar. Too familiar.

And when she brushed it with her fingertips, there had been a jolt in her head—an image she couldn't quite piece together. A flash of a place she didn't remember but somehow knew. A door that shouldn't have been there. A voice that was and wasn't Elias's.

Lara stared down at the fire, the heat doing nothing to warm her.

She knew he was watching her. She could feel it—like invisible threads coiled around her throat. But when she forced herself to meet his gaze again, Elias only smiled softly. That same gentle, reassuring smile he always gave her.

And for the first time, it terrified her.

Because it didn't feel real.

Because deep down, Lara wasn't sure if the man sitting across from her was still the Elias she knew. Or if he had ever been.

That night, after the others had fallen into restless sleep, Lara remained awake, lying beneath the cracked ceiling of the abandoned café.

The silver key rested on her chest, its faint glow matching the pulse of her heart.

She stared up at the ceiling and tried to silence the voice whispering in the back of her mind.

You're running out of time.

You need to choose.

Trust him, or leave him behind.

And when she finally closed her eyes, she dreamed of the crescent moon on Elias's chest—splitting open, and something inside it watching her back.

When Lara wakes at dawn, Elias is already standing at the window, staring at something in the distance. The others are still asleep.

But he isn't smiling anymore.