stop it from cracking.
But Manon closed the distance between
them, and even with that grief in her battered,
bloodied face, she put a hand on Elide’s
shoulder. In comfort.
As if the witch had learned how to do such
things.
Elide’s vision stung and blurred, and
Manon wiped away the tear that escaped.
“Live, Elide,” was all the witch said to her
before striding out of the hall once more.
“Live.”
Manon vanished into the teeming hallway,
braid swaying. And Elide wondered if the
command had been meant for her at all.
Hours later, Elide found Lorcan standing
vigil by Gavriel’s body.
When she’d heard, she had wept for the
male who had shown her such kindness. And
from the way Lorcan knelt before Gavriel, she
lily
(lily)
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