"Come with me," Elias said, his voice low but commanding, cutting through the cacophony of laughter and music in the ballroom. He didn't wait for her response, his hand brushing against her elbow as he turned and began weaving through the crowd.
Isla hesitated for only a moment, her instinct to question him waning with the urgency in his tone. The weight of his earlier words—his gaze that seemed to pierce through her carefully constructed facade—left her no room to argue.
She followed him, her heart pounding as they slipped out onto a quiet balcony that overlooked the estate's sprawling gardens. The hum of the party faded behind the heavy doors, replaced by the cool stillness of the night.
Isla turned to face Elias, her chest tight with unease. "Alright," she said, her voice sharper than she intended. "We're alone now. Start talking."
"You're going to have to explain," she said finally, her voice sharper than she intended. "You can't just drop cryptic warnings and expect me to trust you."
Elias's silver eyes narrowed slightly, though his expression remained calm. He leaned against the stone railing of the balcony, his posture deceptively casual. "Trust is earned," he said simply. "But you're right. You deserve answers."
"Answers would be nice," Isla said, folding her arms. "Let's start with how you know my name. My real name."
For the first time, something flickered in Elias's gaze—hesitation, maybe even guilt. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders stiffening. "I didn't know it at first," he admitted. "Not when we first met, anyway. But I've been... aware of you for a while now."
"'Aware of me?'" Isla repeated, her tone incredulous. "What does that even mean? Are you following me?"
"Not exactly," Elias said, his voice measured. "But let's just say I've been keeping an eye on certain... anomalies. And you happen to be one of them."
"Anomalies?" Isla's stomach twisted. Every word he said seemed to deepen the pit of confusion she was sinking into. "You're not making any sense."
Elias hesitated again, his jaw tightening. "You don't belong here, Isla. You know that, don't you? This world—it isn't yours."
Her breath caught. She had spent so much time trying to suppress that very thought, trying to blend in, trying not to think about the life she had left behind. Hearing someone else say it out loud felt like a punch to the gut.
"How do you know that?" she whispered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady.
"Because you're not the first," Elias said, his voice low and deliberate. "There have been others."
The words hit her like a physical blow. Others. The thought had never even occurred to her. She had assumed—no, she had *hoped*—that her situation was unique, that there might be some kind of explanation for why *she* had been pulled into this world. But if there were others...
"What do you mean, 'others'?" Isla asked, her voice rising slightly. "Are you saying this has happened before? That people from my world have been brought here?"
"Yes," Elias said simply.
Her head spun. "How? Why?"
Elias straightened, his expression darkening. "That's what I've been trying to figure out. Your world and this one—they're connected in ways most people can't even begin to understand. And there are those who would exploit that connection for their own gain."
"Like Alaric," Isla said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Elias nodded grimly. "He's not the only one, but yes. He's one of them."
Her stomach churned. "So what does he want with me?"
"That," Elias said, "is the question I've been trying to answer. But it's clear he sees you as more than just a curiosity. He's been watching you, Isla. Studying you. And if he's gone to the trouble of bringing you here, it means you're important to him in some way."
Isla's mind raced, the pieces of the puzzle refusing to fit together. "But why me?" she asked, her voice breaking. "I'm no one. I'm just... I'm just a person. I was living a normal life, and then—"
She stopped, her throat tightening. The memory of that night on the cruise ship came rushing back—Mia's laughter, the storm, the cold shock of the water as it swallowed her whole. And then... nothing. Darkness. Until she woke up in this world, in a body that wasn't hers.
Elias's gaze softened slightly, as if he could see the turmoil written across her face. "You may not see it yet," he said gently, "but you're not just anyone. There's something about you, Isla. Something that makes you different."
She shook her head, her hands trembling. "I don't want to be different," she said, her voice cracking. "I just want to go home."
Elias didn't respond right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence steadying despite the storm raging in her chest. "I know this isn't what you wanted," he said quietly. "But if you want to survive—if you want to find a way back—you need to understand what's at stake."
She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. "And what's at stake?"
"Everything," Elias said, his voice dark. "Alaric isn't just playing games. Whatever he's planning, it's bigger than you—or me. And if we don't stop him, it's not just your life that's at risk. It's this entire world."
---
The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of Elias's words pressing down on Isla like a physical force. She turned away from him, her gaze drifting out over the garden. The lanterns swayed gently in the night breeze, their light casting soft shadows over the flowers below. It was so peaceful, so serene, and yet the world felt like it was falling apart around her.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked finally, her voice quiet. "Why do you care?"
Elias hesitated, and for a moment, she thought he might not answer. But then he said, "Because I've been where you are."
She turned to him, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"
Elias's gaze was distant, his expression guarded. "I wasn't born into this world, either," he admitted. "I came here... a long time ago. Under very different circumstances."
Isla's breath caught. "You're from my world?"
"Not exactly," Elias said. "But a world like it. A world that's connected to this one. And like you, I was brought here against my will."
Her mind reeled. She had assumed she was alone in her struggle, that no one else could possibly understand what she was going through. But if Elias was telling the truth...
"How did you get here?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"That's a story for another time," Elias said, his voice tinged with regret. "Right now, we need to focus on what's in front of us."
"Which is what?" Isla asked, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "How am I supposed to fight someone like Alaric when I don't even know what he wants?"
Elias's expression hardened. "You're not going to fight him—not yet. First, we need to figure out what he's planning. And to do that, we need to find his connections."
"Connections?" Isla repeated.
"Yes," Elias said. "Alaric doesn't act alone. He's part of something much bigger—a network of people who share his goals. If we can find them, we might be able to piece together what he's after."
Isla swallowed hard, her fear battling against the flicker of determination rising in her chest. She didn't know if she could trust Elias, but at this point, she didn't have much of a choice.
"Alright," she said reluctantly. "Where do we start?"
Elias's smirk returned, though it was tinged with something darker. "Follow the whispers," he said. "The aristocracy loves its secrets, and tonight, we're going to uncover some of them."