Evaline:
Elion’s words fell heavy between us.
For a mont, I couldn’t even breathe properly, let alone react. The office felt too quiet.
Sacrifice their wolf.
My mind snagged on the words, replaying them again and again.
It took my brain a few precious seconds to recover from the shock. And the mont it did, questions ca crashing in.
What did that even an?
And was that what happened to ?
I opened my mouth, breath already drawing in for the question that burned the most-
"What do you an by-"
"Miss Evaline."
Elion’s voice cut in smoothly, stopping mid-sentence.
Not sharply. Not unkindly. Just... decisively.
I stopped.
He t my gaze with that sa calm, unreadable expression, his eyes steady. "That," he said, "would be your third question."
The words hit harder than his previous revelation.
Third? Already?
I blinked, montarily disoriented. "What?"
"You are already on your last question," he reminded gently. "Your third."
For a second, I just stared at him.
Then realization dawned.
Slow. Reluctant. Painfully clear.
I replayed the conversation in my head.
First question: What’s the secret of our bloodline?
Second question: What made Silver Wolf bloodlines healing power rare?
And sowhere between curiosity and revelations, I had already arrived at the third and last question of the weekend without even realizing it.
My shoulders sagged slightly.
Damn it.
I let out a long, exasperated breath and leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling for a heartbeat as if answers might be written there. "You really do keep count," I muttered.
I dropped my gaze back to him and found a faint smile playing on his lips. I felt torn between gratitude and frustration. Part of appreciated the reminder. If he hadn’t stopped , I would have blurted out a random question and wasted my last chance entirely.
The other part of ... arguably the louder one... wanted to shake him.
If he didn’t keep tabs so carefully, maybe he’d accidentally reveal more than three answers.
But that was wishful thinking.
This was Elion Grey - sharp, controlled. There was no world in which he would "accidentally" slip.
I pressed my lips together and forced myself to breathe.
One last question remained.
And it had to count.
My gaze drifted back to Elion, who was watching quietly, giving space to think. No pressure. No impatience. As if he knew exactly how much this mattered.
I closed my eyes for a mont.
Did I want to ask about the sacrifice?
About whether it’s related to my situation?
Or about a dozen other things that had been overwhelming my mind for the entire past week.
The questions clawed at .
But sothing else surfaced beneath them. Sothing deeper. More practical. More urgent.
Knowledge.
Understanding.
Because no matter how horrifying the truth was, I couldn’t afford to stumble blindly through it.
When I opened my eyes again, my decision was made.
I straightened and fixed Elion with a steady gaze.
"Where," I asked calmly, "and how can I learn more about my healing power?"
For the first ti since this conversation began, he looked genuinely surprised. Not startled. Not shaken... but clearly caught off guard.
His brows lifted slightly, and there was a brief pause... just a fraction of a second... before he leaned back in his couch.
"That," he said slowly, "is not the question I expected."
I tilted my head. "Disappointed?"
"Surprised," he corrected.
A faint, almost amused smile touched his lips as he studied . "Tell , Evaline... what will you do if the answer is simply... ?"
The question was clearly ant to unsettle .
It didn’t.
Instead, I relaxed back into the couch, folding one leg over the other and resting my hands loosely in my lap. I t his gaze without flinching, without tension.
"Then I would say you are lying," I replied honestly.
That earned a visible reaction.
His eyebrows arched higher this ti, genuine intrigue flickering in his eyes. "Is that so?"
"Yes."
There was no hesitation, no apology.
"I don’t think you know enough about the power itself," I continued evenly. "You know the history. The legends. The cost. The mystery surrounding it." I shrugged lightly. "But not the full extent of how it works. Or how to use it."
Silence followed.
Not the heavy kind.
The considering kind.
"And what," he asked at last, "makes you think that?"
I tilted my head again, a small, helpless gesture. "Call it intuition."
His lips curved slightly. "Intuition."
"I have learned to trust it," I said simply. "Especially when it keeps telling the sa thing."
He studied for a long mont.
I couldn’t tell what impressed him... my answer, my confidence, or the fact that I hadn’t wasted my last question chasing curiosity instead of clarity.
A part of twisted with delayed nerves.
What if I was wrong?
What if this so-called intuition failed now, of all tis?
I had just spent my final question of the week on an assumption.
If Elion truly did know everything, then I had wasted my chance.
The thought made my stomach tighten.
Then he spoke.
"You are not wrong."
The tension in my chest released in a sharp, silent rush.
He reached for his tea again, though he didn’t drink this ti. He turned the cup slightly between his fingers, his gaze thoughtful.
"The answers you are looking for about your power," he said, "they belong to a book."
A book.
That was it.
No title.
No author.
No location.
Just... a book.
I stared at him, incredulous.
"That’s your answer?" I demanded. "A book?"
His expression remained infuriatingly calm. "You asked where and how. I answered."
I clenched my jaw.
Technically, he had.
Barely.
A hundred retorts flashed through my mind. A few of them involved launching my nearly empty tea cup straight at his perfectly composed head.
I didn’t do it.
My hands stayed firmly glued to my lap, fingers curling into the fabric of my clothes instead.
"You enjoy this," I accused flatly.
"A little," he admitted without sha.
I let out a breath through my nose. "You just won this ridiculous ga of questions and answers... again."
His smile deepened, slow and deliberate. "Gas imply chance," he said. "This was strategy."
I almost... almost... rolled my eyes.
"So that’s it?" I pressed. "You tell the answers exist, but not where to find them?"
"Yes," he said, setting his cup aside once again. He then leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "Unless you prove you are desperate to know the book’s na right now... and don’t want to wait until next Saturday."
I stiffened. "What do you want?"
His smile turned sharper. "I can tell you the na of the book right now... on one condition."
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