Page 26 of Tears for a Broken Sky
She laughed!
“So what now?” She asked.
I leaned back against the wall of the room and looked around. “Trust you to find a place like this.”
She shivered slightly. “It was the furthest room from the damn ballroom.”
I eyed up the weapons on the wall, picking up a few to test them. Swords, daggers and spears decorated the room. “Some nice stuff in here,” I said, picking up a slender dagger and flipping it once in my hand. “Could definitely do some damage.”
She walked over slowly, barefoot and tired but still sharp around the edges.
“Planning to stab a diplomat?” she asked dryly.
“Only if they talk about alliance-building again,” I muttered.
She smirked. The smile faded quickly.
“So, I saw Syrena back at the ball. She looked upset.” I began.
Elira rolled her eyes and went back to her dummy.
“You two have a little chat?”
“You could call it that.”
“What would you call it?” I asked.
She glared at me. “A disagreement.”
“Anything you want to talk about?” I asked, my voice carefully calm.
She slammed her hand hard into the side of the dummy. “Ok. That’s it. Can you stop?”
I straightened. Didn’t move closer. Didn’t speak right away.
She clenched her fists so tight they went white. Her whole body was rigid with tension. “Elle –“ I began.
“Stop treating me like I’m fragile!” she exploded, voice sharp and ragged.
“You and Slade and Phoenix—and gods, even Maddie—you all keep looking at me like you expect me to break down or shatter at any second!”
Her hands were shaking now, clenched at her sides. Her eyes were wide, not with fear—but with fury. With exhaustion. With everything she hadn’t said since the moment she got dragged into this new life.
“I’m not a porcelain doll,” she snapped. “I don’t need to be protected like I’m about to snap in half. I’ve alreadysnapped. I put myself back together—like always!”
I straightened, tension creeping into my spine.
“Elle, we’re just trying to help—”
“I don’t need any help!” she shouted. “I amfine, Leo. I’vealwaysbeen fine. I know how to fight. I know how to breatheon my own. So stop—” her voice cracked on the word, but she pushed through it— “stop handling me!”
I stepped forward, my eyes narrowing. “Okay, fine. You want me to take the gloves off? I will.”
Her jaw tensed.
“You’re not okay, Elle,” I said. “You are so far from okay, it’s horrifying.”
She glared at me. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
