Chapter 112
Lirael
"Because Sofia cared." My voice came out fiercer than I'd intended. " Because we're not just fighting for revenge, Elwin—we're fighting so that no other lunar elf has to go through what we went through. So that no other family has to lose someone the way you lost Sofia."
He stared at me for a long moment, and I could see him wrestling with the decision—whether to give in to despair or channel his grief into something useful. Finally, he nodded slowly, his jaw set with determination that looked far too old for his face.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Okay. We find the evidence. We expose them. We make sure Sofia didn't die for nothing." He paused, then added with surprising gentleness, "But Lirael? You need to decide what you're going to do about Sebastian."
The abrupt subject change caught me off-guard. "What do you mean?"
"I mean he's dying right now from poison you created, and you're standing here trying to figure out whether to save him or let him die." Elwin's gaze was too knowing, too perceptive. "I heard you in the bathroom. "
"I'm not divided," I said automatically, but the lie tasted false even to me. "Sebastian made his choice. He poisoned himself to manipulate me, and I'm not responsible for—"
"Lirael." Elwin cut me off with surprising firmness. "I saw the way he looked at you in that garden. I saw the way you looked at him. Whatever's between you two, it's more complicated than just captor and captive, and pretending otherwise is only going to get us killed."
I wanted to argue, to dismiss his observation as the pain medication talking. But he was right, damn him. Everything about my relationship with Sebastian was complicated in ways I didn't want to examine, and that complication was clouding my judgment at the worst possible time.
"I don't know what to do about him," I admitted finally, the words pulled from somewhere deep and raw. "I hate him for what he's done—the collar, the threats, the constant hunting. But he also..." I trailed off, unsure how to articulate the contradiction. "He protected me from his father. Let me go when he could have kept me caged. Poisoned himself rather than force me to stay. And now he's dying, and I have the power to save him, and I don't know if letting him die makes me pragmatic or just as monstrous as the people we're fighting against."
Elwin was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful despite the pain medication making his eyes heavy. "What did Sofia always say? About choosing who we want to be?"
"So." Elwin's grip on my hand tightened slightly. "Who do you want to be, Lirael? The woman who lets her enemy die because it's strategically sound? Or the woman who saves him because she's not ready to become the kind of person who can watch someone suffer when she has the power to stop it?"
The question hung in the air between us, impossible to answer because both options felt equally wrong. I thought of Sebastian's face as the poison took hold, the way he'd looked at me with something almost like peace. Thought of the tracker in my pocket, pulsing its steady heartbeat. Thought of all the terrible things he'd done and the few, confusing moments of unexpected gentleness.
"I don't know," I whispered. "God help me, Elwin, I don't know."
"Then maybe that's your answer." He squeezed my hand once more, then released it. "You don't have to decide right now. But you will have to decide soon, and when you do, I'll support whatever choice you make. You saved my life tonight, got me out when you could have left me behind. I won't forget that, and I won't judge you for whatever you decide about Sebastian."
I managed a weak smile, grateful for his understanding even though it didn't make the choice any easier. "Get some rest. Your body needs time to heal, and we'll need to move again soon. Victor won't stop looking for us."
"Lirael?" His voice stopped me as I stood. "For what it's worth... I don't think you're a monster. No matter what you decide."
The words were a gift I didn't deserve, but I accepted them anyway, carrying them with me as I returned to the bathroom. The mirror was still fogged from my earlier shower, and I stared at my distorted reflection, trying to see myself clearly through the haze.
The tracker sat on the edge of the sink where I'd left it, that red light still pulsing. I picked it up, turned it over in my fingers one more time, and made a decision that was probably insane but felt inevitable.
I turned on the hot water, watching steam fog the mirror. My hands were already moving, fingers tracing letters in the condensation before I could talk myself out of it.
Antidote formula: Moonlight grass + Silver vine + third component I won't tell you. Want to live? Don't come find me. —L
It was petty. Childish. A message that would evaporate within the hour. But it made me feel slightly less powerless, so I kept writing until I'd covered half the mirror.
Then, with deliberate care, I set the nano-tracker on the edge of the sink—right where he'd be sure to find it.
The lie came easily, smooth as silk, because he'd taught me well—every interaction a game, every truth a weapon. Let him waste time searching for a nonexistent ingredient while I disappeared with Elwin. Let him learn what it felt like to be played.
I grabbed the two sets of clean clothes I'd bought and stepped away from the sink, already planning our exit route. But before I left the bathroom, I made the mistake of looking back at the tracker one more time.
That tiny red light pulsed in steady rhythm, and suddenly I was back in the garden, watching Sebastian drive a needle into his own throat. Remembering the way his hand had trembled, the way his voice had cracked on the word "choose," the absolute conviction in his eyes.
He's dying. You have the antidote. You could save him.
"I could also let him die," I said aloud, to the empty bathroom, to my reflection. "I could let the poison do what I've been too weak to do myself."
But even as I said it, I knew I wouldn't. Couldn't. Because somewhere between the cage and the collar and the constant psychological warfare, Sebastian Blackwood had done something far more dangerous than physically imprisoning me.
He'd made himself matter.
I splashed more cold water on my face. When I looked up, Sebastian's face superimposed itself over my reflection—pale skin, purple lips, amber eyes glazed with pain but still sharp with that predatory focus.
You're insane. He's hunted you, caged you, controlled you. He doesn't deserve your concern.
I grabbed the clothes and medical supplies, shoving them into a bag with more force than necessary. Elwin needed me focused, needed me to be the strong one. I couldn't afford to fall apart over a werewolf who'd made my life hell.