DRAKENFELL — GAMMA QUARTERS
Elara Vaelor was holding together five lives with bullshit and willpower, and the bullshit was running low and the willpower was running on fumes and the whole damn operation was one hand-touch away from detonation.
"Is his shoulder okay?"
Serena reached to touch the bandage on Gav's shoulder absentmindedly.
Elara slapped her hand away. "Serena. Don't touch his wounds. That's weird."
She was running a fucking espionage operation in a sick room, and the only thing standing between Serena and the goddamn matebond mark was a bandage.
Serena shook her head once. Twice. Then grinned. "That was weird."
Hale had fainted twice, Gav was marked in his goddamn sleep, and Serena was three inches from blowing the whole thing wide open because she couldn't keep her fucking hands to herself.
The fact that Serena hadn't already figured the whole damn thing out was either a miracle or proof that the universe owed Elara a favor and was finally paying up.
