Chapter 45 A Name
Lyanna
One of them tonight. He wasn't one of yours.
That got his attention.
Elias’s entire posture sharpened.
Explain.
I described him as best as I could—the way he moved, the look in his eyes, the things he had said. The way he had tested me.
Watched me.
My breath started to come faster.
My hands faltered.
The memory surged back too quickly—the grip on my wrist, the drag toward the trees, the sudden lift, the pain—
My stomach clenched violently.
I pressed a hand to it, doubling slightly, breath catching.
Elias moved instantly.
His hand came to my arm first—steadying.
Then hesitated.
Shifted.
Slowly, carefully, it settled against my back instead.
Warm, solid, grounding.
Don’t.
The sign was softer now.
Don’t think about it.
His thumb moved once, a small, absent motion against the fabric at my shoulder.
He stepped closer. Not enough to trap.
You’re safe here.
Safe.
My vision blurred slightly, but I forced it back, forcing myself to stay present, to stay here.
Not there. Not in the past. Not in the blood.
I nodded.
His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, searching, as if making sure I wouldn’t break apart in front of him.
Then, gently, he signed.
I’m sorry.
He reached for his cloak, slowly stepping closer.
I shook my head immediately.
No. I’m fine.
He ignored me.
Of course he did.
The cloak settled around my shoulders anyway—heavy, warm, carrying his scent with it. It wrapped around me like something solid. Something real.
Something that didn’t ask anything of me.
I stilled.
My fingers curled slightly into the fabric before I could stop myself.
His gaze flicked to the movement but he said nothing of it.
Instead, he signed. Stay here tonight.
My head lifted.
Sleep here, it’s safer.
My first instinct was to refuse.
I couldn’t sleep.
Not after that.
Not after Ruben.
Not after everything.
But the thought of returning to the wagon—
To them—
My stomach twisted sharply.
My body felt too heavy.
Too tired.
Too… aware of him.
I nodded slowly.
His shoulders eased slightly.
Like he had been expecting a fight and was relieved he wouldn’t have to win it.
He stepped back then, giving me space.
Distance.
Always that careful distance.
But he didn’t leave.
I moved toward the bed, lowering myself onto it slowly, every muscle still tight, still braced for something that wasn’t coming.
The furs shifted softly beneath me, soft and achingly familiar.
Elias turned away, adjusting something on the table—small, quiet movements. Giving me the illusion of privacy.
Not watching.
Even though I could feel that he was aware of me.
Always.
The silence settled.
Heavy.
I lay back slowly, staring up at the dim curve of the tent’s ceiling. The exhaustion crept in despite everything, dragging at my limbs, at my thoughts.
My eyes drifted shut.
Then opened again at his quiet words.
“Rest well Mira.”
My throat tightened.
That wasn’t my name.
My fingers tightened in the cloak, anchoring myself in its warmth, in that steady, grounding scent.
The word felt dangerous.
My hands lifted before I could stop them.
Hesitant.
Uncertain.
My name is—
I froze.
The sign faltered halfway through.
Hung there.
Exposed.
My chest tightened sharply.
Too close.
Too dangerous.
Too much.
I lowered my hands slowly.
Swallowed.
Turned my face away.
Not yet.
Not here.
Not to him.
Behind me, Elias didn’t move.
He hadn’t noticed. Thank the moon.
Despite my fears, the surrounding scent dragged me into the darkness of sleep.