12-28-2024, 12:17 AM
Elias tore himself free of Alvis’s hand the moment they stepped out of the room, shrugging off the touch as though it burned him. His coat hung from his shoulders like a sodden second skin, dripping water onto the grimy wooden floor. His steps left a trail of muddy imprints behind him, but he didn’t care. Why should he? No one else did. He stopped in the narrow hallway, his chest rising and falling like he’d just fought off a wolf with his bare hands—which, in his mind, wasn’t far from the truth. His focus burned bright and sharp, aimed squarely at Alvis.
"You don’t get to just walk away," Elias said, his voice low at first, but cracking like distant thunder. He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer, his soaked coat dragging heavily behind him. "Don’t think for one second that what happened out there is finished. It’s not. Not even close.”
Alvis had that infuriatingly calm look again, the one Elias hated more than anything. Detached, measured, untouchable—as if nothing could phase him, not even a storm powerful enough to rip apart the lake. Elias’s lip curled. "You think this is over because you survived it? That you can just light a fire and call it a day?” His voice rose, fueled by the anger boiling inside him. "I made that storm, Alvis. I called it, and I could’ve let it tear the whole damn place apart if I wanted to. Do you know why I didn’t?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. The question wasn’t rhetorical, but Elias didn’t care if Alvis responded or not. He was talking now, and he wasn’t about to stop.
"I didn’t stop because of you, in case you were wondering,” Elias continued, stalking forward like a predator sizing up prey. "It wasn’t even about the girl." He jerked his thumb toward the room Asha lay, though his eyes stayed locked on Alvis. "No, I pulled it back because I needed you alive. Alive and useful, which you’ve thus far proven to be anything but.” His tone dripped with venom on the last word, daring Alvis to contradict him.
Elias’s hand shot out, gripping Alvis’s arm—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to demand his attention. “I want answers, Alvis. I want the device, and I want to know what the hell you’re doing with her.” He jabbed a finger toward the door again. His voice dripped with mocking suspicion as he pressed further. "Who even is she? Huh? I know she was the one fighting me back, and you don’t exactly seem like the type to make friends, so what’s her deal? She doesn’t look like some local you picked up on a whim. And she sure doesn’t look like she trusts you.”
Stepping close enough to invade Alvis’s personal space, his gaze wasn’t mocking anymore. There was still anger, sure, but beneath it was something else—curiosity perhaps. A desperate need to know more, to piece together the puzzle that had been haunting him since they’d crossed paths.
"You’ve been lying to me since the beginning, haven’t you?” Elias said, his voice quieter now, the edge replaced by something more dangerous. "Always holding back, always hiding things. You think I haven’t noticed? I know you’re keeping something from me—about the signal, about everything. So stop stalling and tell me the truth. Why was she out there with you? And where is the shard? The signal disappears and you appear. Maybe I should rip open your belly to see if you swallowed it whole!”
"You don’t get to just walk away," Elias said, his voice low at first, but cracking like distant thunder. He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer, his soaked coat dragging heavily behind him. "Don’t think for one second that what happened out there is finished. It’s not. Not even close.”
Alvis had that infuriatingly calm look again, the one Elias hated more than anything. Detached, measured, untouchable—as if nothing could phase him, not even a storm powerful enough to rip apart the lake. Elias’s lip curled. "You think this is over because you survived it? That you can just light a fire and call it a day?” His voice rose, fueled by the anger boiling inside him. "I made that storm, Alvis. I called it, and I could’ve let it tear the whole damn place apart if I wanted to. Do you know why I didn’t?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. The question wasn’t rhetorical, but Elias didn’t care if Alvis responded or not. He was talking now, and he wasn’t about to stop.
"I didn’t stop because of you, in case you were wondering,” Elias continued, stalking forward like a predator sizing up prey. "It wasn’t even about the girl." He jerked his thumb toward the room Asha lay, though his eyes stayed locked on Alvis. "No, I pulled it back because I needed you alive. Alive and useful, which you’ve thus far proven to be anything but.” His tone dripped with venom on the last word, daring Alvis to contradict him.
Elias’s hand shot out, gripping Alvis’s arm—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to demand his attention. “I want answers, Alvis. I want the device, and I want to know what the hell you’re doing with her.” He jabbed a finger toward the door again. His voice dripped with mocking suspicion as he pressed further. "Who even is she? Huh? I know she was the one fighting me back, and you don’t exactly seem like the type to make friends, so what’s her deal? She doesn’t look like some local you picked up on a whim. And she sure doesn’t look like she trusts you.”
Stepping close enough to invade Alvis’s personal space, his gaze wasn’t mocking anymore. There was still anger, sure, but beneath it was something else—curiosity perhaps. A desperate need to know more, to piece together the puzzle that had been haunting him since they’d crossed paths.
"You’ve been lying to me since the beginning, haven’t you?” Elias said, his voice quieter now, the edge replaced by something more dangerous. "Always holding back, always hiding things. You think I haven’t noticed? I know you’re keeping something from me—about the signal, about everything. So stop stalling and tell me the truth. Why was she out there with you? And where is the shard? The signal disappears and you appear. Maybe I should rip open your belly to see if you swallowed it whole!”