Chapter 192: Killing Gloria.
Location: Thegara, Moon Valley, Vine Castle, Dungeons.
Zaira doused herself with the scent-killer potion, the bitter liquid clinging to her skin like cold oil, concealing her scent, matching it with the scent of the moss on the walls. She pulled a dark mask over her mouth, her eyes gleaming with silent calculation. The witch told her no one should see her face, otherwise she had to kill them.
With swift, measured steps, she approached the guards from behind, unseen, unheard. A flicker of fire ignited in her palm, and the paper of the spell started burning low and hot. The shifters barely had time to sense her presence before their bodies wavered, knees buckling as they slumped to the ground in a muffled thud.
Inside her dim cell, Elaika stiffened. The plop of torches and flesh against stone echoed faintly through the silence. She stood, the chains at her ankles whispering. With cautious steps, she neared the door, heart thudding low like a warning drum. She listened.
Only the wind answered, whistling through the gutters, thin and hollow, like something mourning far above.
"Who’s there?" she called, her voice edged with fear. She hated to be alone, locked in this place.
It couldn’t be Coran. He hadn’t come near her since they locked her in this cursed corner of the castle. Her brother had abandoned her with that of a silence colder than ice.
Her so-called friends hadn’t dared show their faces, not once. Cowards, all of them, hiding behind fear while she rotted in chains.
Then came a sound. The sharp click of the lock turning broke the suffocating stillness. Elaika stepped back into the darkness, every one of her instincts bubbled on edge. She narrowed her eyes, crouching slightly, her fingers twitching, ready to strike. Something was off. The usual idle chatter of the guards was gone. No one announced a visitor. No warnings. Just silence thick enough to drown in.
The heavy door groaned open, iron scraping stone like an ancient beast stirring. Light spilled in faintly, casting long shadows across the cold floor. Zaira stepped inside but didn’t bother closing the door behind her.
"Elaika, it’s me!" she called, her voice carrying a hurried tone, too sweet to be trusted.