Under the Shadows

hiii fellow readers, hope you're all doing ok 😇 thanks again for your support and comments, know I read every single one of them and they all crack me up/melt my heart 🥺 💕💕

had to republish chapt 32 cause wttpd striked it bc of the image I used so feel free to read it again 👀🫦🫦

back with a new chapter, can't tell you how excited I am to start publishibg this new arc, because let me tell you, it's absolutely my fav 🥺

hope you'll like it as much as I do

also, I published 3!! new chapters to When Melts the Frost, so feel free to read them while waiting for this fic hehe 😌

annnnd last but not least, I officially announce that a 3rd fic is in the drafts!!! not spoiling much but I hope you like bikers 🤐🏍️ (can you tell I haven't had sleep in a veryy long time?)

with that being said, enjoyyy

**

Elyne drove in tense silence, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white against the leather. The rhythmic hum of the engine was the only sound accompanying the constant thrum of her pulse. She scanned every car, every shadow on the road, hyper-aware of her surroundings, her body taut with tension. Every red light felt like an eternity, every pedestrian crossing a potential threat.

Her gaze flicked to the Reclaimer, slumped in the passenger seat, his breathing shallow and uneven. His face was pale, a fine sheen of sweat clinging to his skin. He looked as if he could pass out at any moment, and the thought sent a spike of fear straight through her.

"You're not passing out on me, are you?" she asked, her voice trying for lightness but trembling slightly at the edges. She glanced at him again, her heart lurching when his eyes fluttered open just enough to meet hers.

"Depends," he rasped, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "If you keep driving like a rookie, I might pass out just to spare myself."

"Don't you dare," she said, forcing her voice to stay light. "I didn't haul your stubborn ass out of that place just for you to give up now."

He let out a faint chuckle, the sound rough but still distinctly him. "You're terrible at pep talks, Detective," he rasped, his lips curving into a weak smirk. "I've heard better ones from motivational posters."

Elyne huffed, her pulse quickening at the effort it seemed to cost him to speak. "You're lucky I'm even trying," she shot back. "Keep talking, though. I need proof you're still alive."

His eyes fluttered open briefly, his green gaze flickering toward her. "Alive," he murmured, "and as charming as ever."

She rolled her eyes, but the knot in her chest loosened slightly at his response. "Sure, keep telling yourself that."

For the next several minutes, she kept talking, her words a mix of biting remarks and feigned nonchalance, anything to keep him engaged. His responses grew quieter, his humor more strained, but he held on, his voice a faint anchor in the storm raging inside her.

Finally, the GPS chimed, signaling the turn into a residential neighborhood. Elyne's brow furrowed as the streets became wider, the houses larger and more spaced apart. The area was pristine, with manicured lawns and neat hedges lining the sidewalks. It was the kind of place where kids rode bikes in cul-de-sacs and families hosted weekend barbecues.

"This can't be right," she muttered, glancing at the Reclaimer, her suspicion flaring. "Are you sure about this address?"

He gave a faint nod, his head lolling slightly against the seat. "It's right. Trust me," he muttered, his voice barely audible.