"I'm dying," Mia whispers, her voice trembling as her body goes limp in Ella's arms. Her once bright eyes are now dull, her breaths shallow and ragged. Panic surges through Ella as she cradles Mia's fragile frame, her heart pounding like a drum.
"No, no, no, you're not dying," Ella mutters, her voice shaking as she rushes toward the side table. Her fingers fumble for the small vial she'd placed there earlier, the one The Lady had promised would save Mia. The liquid inside glimmers faintly, a beacon of hope in her frantic despair.
With trembling hands, Ella uncaps the vial and tilts it gently to Mia's lips. "Please, just take this," she whispers, supporting Mia's head as she carefully administers the liquid. For a moment, nothing happens. Mia's pale, almost translucent skin remains eerily still, her body cold against Ella's hands.
And then, like a spark igniting dry wood, life begins to return. Mia's skin flushes with color, the grayish pallor replaced by a healthy glow. Her lips, once cracked and bloodless, heal before Ella's eyes, becoming smooth and vibrant. Even the faint lines of suffering etched into her face vanish, leaving her looking serene and radiant.
Mia gasps, her eyes snapping open as she takes a deep, shuddering breath. "That was close," she murmurs, her voice steady but tinged with lingering disbelief. Her hands move instinctively over her skin, checking for any remnants of the poison's damage. She searches for scars, sores—anything to suggest the agony she endured moments before—but there's nothing. Her flesh is flawless, as though she'd never been touched by the poison at all.
Ella lets out a shaky laugh, relief washing over her in waves. "I thought I lost you," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. She brushes a stray strand of hair from Mia's face, her hands still trembling.
Mia sits up slowly, her movements cautious as though testing the strength of her body. "I thought today was going to be the end for me," she says, her tone filled with quiet awe. "The pain… it was unbearable. Every second felt like a thorn in my eye, digging deeper and deeper. My mind—" she pauses, pressing her hand to her temple—"it was like everything was slipping away, turning into a fog I couldn't fight through."
"But you're here now," Ella says firmly, gripping Mia's hand as if anchoring her to the present. "You're alive. You're safe."
Mia meets Ella's gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Because of you. You didn't give up on me."
Ella shakes her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "I couldn't if I tried. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
For a moment, silence envelops them, a fragile yet profound moment of peace. But as Ella glances at the now-empty vial in her hand, a chill creeps down her spine. The Lady's words echo in her mind: The cure is powerful, but it comes at a cost.
Ella forces herself to push the thought aside for now. Mia is alive, and that's all that matters. At least, for the moment.
"What's the cost?" Mia asks suddenly, her voice sharper than Ella expects. Her mind races, suspicion clawing its way forward. The Lady never gave anything without a price. "What did she ask for this time?"
Ella's eyes falter, her usual strength wavering as she avoids Mia's gaze. "It's nothing you have to worry about," she says, her tone light but unconvincing.
Mia isn't having it. "Actually, it is. Tell me, Ella—what awful thing are you planning to do in return for my life?" She leans forward, her gaze unyielding. The organization always demanded something in exchange, and failure was never an option. Punishment was a rare occurrence—they simply weren't allowed to fail.
What's really going on?
"Why are you still here?" Mia presses.
"It's a long story," Ella mutters, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She sighs heavily, as if the weight of the world rests on her shoulders. "Honestly, I don't even want to understand what's happening. I just want to finish the mission and finally have a chance at freedom—for both of us." She reaches out, her fingers brushing gently against Mia's cheek.
"And what's the mission, Ella? I'm worried."
"Don't be," Ella replies with a forced cheerfulness, though her voice cracks. "The Lady just wants a few items. Once I get them for her, we'll be free."
Mia's brow furrows, unease bubbling to the surface. "We've spent most of our lives in that organization," she says quietly. "Trained to kill, to steal, to do things no one should have to do. That life wasn't our choice, Ella, but we're stuck in it. Do you really think she'll just let us go?"
"She will," Ella insists, though her own doubt flickers in her eyes.
"What are the items, and why does she want you to steal them?" Mia's tone sharpens, her instincts on high alert. The Lady was never interested in ordinary things. If she sent Ella, it meant the items were extraordinary—and dangerous.
"We don't question her reasons, remember?" Ella says softly, tapping Mia's hand in reassurance. "I don't care about her motives. I care about you, about us, and about getting out of this mess."
"That's exactly the problem," Mia says, her voice rising. "The things she wants are treasures—magical treasures that hold immense power. Haven't you questioned why she wants them? What if it's for something terrible? What if—" Her voice cracks, fear and frustration mingling in her words.
Ella sighs, her shoulders slumping. "Maybe I'm being selfish, Mia. But I don't want to care. I just want us out of this life. If giving her those items is the price for our freedom, then so be it."
But a small voice in Ella's mind whispers doubts. What if these items are more dangerous than she realizes? What harm could The Lady cause with them? Not like she'd use them to free some ancient evil capable of destroying the world.
Would she?
Mia shifts the conversation, her tone lightening slightly. "And him? He seems kinder to you now than before," she says, referring to Steffen.
Ella stiffens. "Apparently, I'm his mate," she says flatly.
"Like in the movies?" Mia's face lights up despite the tension. "His Luna?"
"Something like that," Ella mutters, her voice heavy with uncertainty. The mate bond was more a curse than a blessing, a forced connection binding them together. Steffen's kindness wasn't born of love—it was necessity, a desire to stave off the effects of the bond. If not for that, Ella doubts he'd spare her a second glance.
Everything between them is transactional, just like everything else in her life. The moment she delivers the items, their fragile connection will end.
Ella shifts the focus back to Mia, her voice softening. "What about you? How are you feeling? And John—is he treating you well?"
Mia's expression eases. "John's been good to me, and so have the helpers he left to look after me. Everyone treats me like family. You don't need to worry."
Ella doesn't look convinced, but Mia continues. "The Moon Pack has been kind. I'm sure it's because of John's orders, but even so, it feels… genuine." She pauses, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I think he did it because he cares about you."
Ella rolls her eyes. "That's ridiculous."
"It's not, actually," Mia says with a knowing look. "You've always had a way of catching people's attention, Ella. You're beautiful. I'm just glad you're my friend."
Ella shakes her head, brushing off the compliment. "Enough about me. What happens next?"
Mia's smile fades as the reality of their situation settles between them. "I don't know," she admits. "But I don't think The Lady will ever let us go. Not really."
Ella doesn't respond, her mind clouded with doubt. All she knows is that she has to finish the mission, no matter the cost.
Here's the scene rewritten in novel standard and in present tense:
"Time's up," John announces as he strides into the room, effectively breaking the tense moment.
Mia shoots Ella a defeated look but says nothing. Instead, she slides her arm around Ella's shoulders, supporting her weight as she whispers, "Don't do anything stupid."
Ella's concerned gaze lingers on Mia. "Take care of her," she tells John, her voice soft but firm. Despite being saved in the nick of time, she knows it's only temporary. The poison will return, and she doesn't know if Mia will survive it next time.
John nods reassuringly. "Don't worry, she'll be taken care of," he says, gesturing toward the door.
Mia doesn't resist. With the slam of the door, they're gone.
But before the silence can settle, the door swings open again. This time, it's Steffen. His piercing eyes immediately land on Ella, who sits quietly on the edge of the bed.
"You should be happy," he says, his voice calm yet probing. "You met the person you wanted to meet."
Ella looks at him, her expression unreadable. His efforts should make her smile, yet here she is, frowning with tension etched into her face.
"Should I?" she asks, her tone dry.
"I thought so," he replies casually, leaning against the doorframe.
"Perhaps," she says after a pause, "but I'm not. Neither happy nor sad."
He shrugs, unbothered by her response. "If you say so. Either way, we should get to bed."
Without waiting for a reply, Steffen grips the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head.
"What are you doing?" Ella asks sharply, her eyes darting away from his bare chest. She catches glimpses of his defined muscles and the perfectly sculpted ridges of his abdomen, and it's enough to make her stomach flutter.
"Taking off my shirt," he says matter-of-factly.
"Why?" she demands. He couldn't possibly think—no, he can't. This isn't what she's here for. She's only supposed to help him deal with the emotional turmoil of their bond. Nothing more.
"I can't sleep with clothes on," he replies, unfazed.
"Well, practice it," she snaps, crossing her arms. "I'm not sleeping next to you with no shirt on."
He smirks, catching her fleeting glances at his chest. "You should have no problem with it. Unless…" His voice lowers into a teasing drawl. "You can't handle it."
"Hell no," she scoffs, forcing confidence into her tone. But her thoughts betray her.
Damn, he's attractive, too attractive. Her mind drifts to places it shouldn't, imagining him pinned beneath her, his body hers to explore.
No. She shakes the thought away, horrified at her own imagination. There's no way she's admitting any of that. He'd never let her live it down.
"Good," he says, his smirk widening. "Then you shouldn't have a problem with me sleeping like this." He moves to the right side of the bed, settling in.
Ella's irritation boils over. "How would you feel if I went to bed with no clothes on?" The words spill out before she can stop them, leaving her mortified.
Steffen raises a brow, his smirk turning wicked. "I wouldn't mind."
She narrows her eyes, unwilling to let him win. "I doubt that."
"Then prove it," he counters smoothly, leaning back as if daring her. "Take off your clothes."