The oak table stretched between them, polished and gleaming under the warm light that filled the room. It was a gathering of minds, but there was no ease in it. The tension sat like a coiled serpent in the middle of the group—waiting to strike.

Theo leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly on the armrest as Rowen spoke with the cool authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

“We’re running out of time. The Noctarchs won’t wait while we figure this out. If they get close enough to manipulate the bond, we’re all in danger. They’ll twist her mind and force her to activate the artifact. The consequences would be catastrophic,” Rowen said, his words cutting through the stillness.

“I agree,” David added, his voice low and steady. “Elena’s bond with the artifact is only going to grow stronger. The longer we wait, the more vulnerable she becomes. If we don’t act, we’re giving Lucian and the Noctarchs an opportunity to seize control.”

Theo could feel Elena stiffen beside him, the change in her subtle—a slight shift in her posture, the way her shoulders tensed—but he noticed. He always noticed. Instinctively, his hand hovered near hers, the urge to reach out, to offer her some kind of comfort, gnawing at him. But he stopped himself, his fingers curling slightly, retracting before they could make contact.

He couldn’t. Not now. Not with everything between them so uncertain.

Elena glanced up at him, and he caught the faintest flicker of something in her eyes, but it disappeared before he could place it. The moment passed, and she looked away, retreating into herself just as he had done. The distance between them felt heavier than before, but neither of them crossed it.

“So what do I need to do?” Elena asked, her voice carrying a weight of its own.

“You need to help us get the rest of the artifact. We may be able to break the bond in a way that doesn’t require… well, killing you,” Rowen replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “But doing anything while the artifact is broken is too risky.”

“Don’t you already know where the other pieces are?” Elena’s voice held a faint edge of frustration, though she tried to keep it steady.

Rowen sighed. “Unfortunately, no. The remaining pieces have been hidden for centuries. But if we can pool our resources we may be able to track them down.”

Arthur, who had been silently observing, finally spoke from the head of the table. “The council has access to certain ancient texts that may be have some clues. I’ll see what I can find.”

Rowen gave a nod of acknowledgment and turned back to Elena. “Look, Elena, I won’t force this on you—yet. But we can monitor your bond and protect you better than anyone else here. I’d like you to come with us and stay under our care.”

Theo’s jaw tightened at Rowen’s words, his whole body going rigid. The suggestion that Elena should leave his side, even under the pretense of protection, struck a nerve. He clenched his fist beneath the table, the urge to snap back simmering just below the surface. Yet? What did Rowen mean by that? Did he really think there would come a time when they could force Elena to go with them?

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His teeth ground together as he fought to keep his composure, the irritation bubbling under his calm exterior. The room felt stifling, the urge to say something building, but Theo swallowed it down, breathing slow and steady to contain the surge of protectiveness rising in his chest.

Before he could speak, Elena’s voice broke through the tension.

“Thank you, Rowen,” she said gently. “But I’ve been moving from place to place for a while now. Arthur has been generous enough to open his home to me, and I’d like to stay here. It feels... safe.”

Her words sent a ripple of relief through him, easing the knot in his chest.

Rowen nodded, conceding. “Very well. You can stay here for now. But we’ll be close. We’ll keep searching for the artifact pieces and keep you updated.”

As the others began to disperse, murmuring their plans, Theo turned to Elena. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes. She looked worn, the conversation had clearly drained her.

“Elena,” Theo murmured, “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

For a long moment, she was silent. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Theo…I…I saw something today”

Theo frowned, his concern deepening. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated before recounting what she had seen.

“Well, when I touched the artifact today…I don’t know something just sort of happened. I started to feel strange like a fog started to take over my mind and then suddenly it was like I was transported somewhere else.”

Elena then proceeded to tell him about her vision. the ruins, the fog, the strange symbols, and the overwhelming sense of something ancient and watchful. Her voice trembled as she described the shadowy figures lurking in the distance, the feeling of being drawn into something.

“I don’t understand it,” she whispered, her voice tight with uncertainty. “But it felt like... like the artifact was communicating something.”

Theo absorbed her words, the unease between them thickening. Her uncertainty mirrored his own, but there was something darker beneath it—something that unnerved him.

“We’ll figure out what that means, I promise.” He said.

For a moment, their eyes locked, and Theo thought he saw a flicker of hope in hers. His chest tightened, the pull between them almost unbearable. He wanted to close the distance, to reach out and kiss her like he had the night before. The memory surged in his mind—the feel of her body beneath his, the taste of her, the way her fingers dug into his back.

He had convinced himself that he’d done it for her, that it was to help her, to ease her pain but in truth, he had done it for himself. He had opened his heart to her, had shared a part of himself that he hadn’t intended with the hope that maybe- just maybe- he could be something to her. But he knew better now. He could never be anything other than what he was -could never give her the sort of love she deserved. He should have never let last night happen.

His gaze lingered on her face, but he held himself back, forcing his feet to stay planted, his hands to stay at his sides. He wouldn’t let himself hope for that again.

Elena shifted, her eyes flicking down as if sensing his hesitation. The space between them seemed to stretch, both of them caught in an unspoken tension neither knew how to break. He could feel her retreating, though she hadn’t moved an inch. The silence thickened, pressing in around them.

“I should… get some rest,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced up at him, a fleeting look of uncertainty passing across her face before she turned away.

Theo nodded stiffly, the words he wanted to say lodged in his throat.

As she moved toward the hallway, the memory of her voice from the night before echoed in his mind—the way she had whispered his name, her fingers running through his hair. Did she even remember it? Or was he the only one haunted by the memory, replaying it in his mind like a curse he couldn’t escape?

Theo watched her go, his heart heavy, the ache settling deeper in his chest. As her steps retreated further into the home, the room fell into an uneasy stillness, leaving Theo alone with the silence—and the memory that would not let him rest.