SERAPHINA’S POV
“Kieran?” I asked, stepping toward him.
“You’re alright,” he said, his voice steady, but there was something beneath it—something tight, strained.
“I am,” I replied, studying his face. “You?”
A pause. Brief. Almost imperceptible.
“Yes.”
It wasn’t a lie.
But it wasn’t the truth either.
I opened my mouth to press him, the question already forming—what happened in there, what did you see, why do you look like that—
“I was beginning to wonder if the Archives had decided to keep you.”
Kieran and I turned.
Elias stood a few steps away, his posture as composed as ever, though his face betrayed him.
For someone who spoke in measured tones and carried himself as if nothing could unsettle him, the relief in his expression was unmistakable.
His gaze moved over me quickly, assessing—not just my physical state, but something deeper, something I could feel him searching for.
When he found whatever he was looking for, his shoulders eased.
