(Elira POV)
My heart was practically trying to escape my chest, pounding so loudly it felt like they could hear it too, but stubbornness—my oldest, most reliable shield—rose faster than fear ever could. I swallowed the lump in my throat, forced my breathing to steady, and lifted my chin like I wasn't even slightly shaken. Weakness was not something I showed, not now, not ever.
"And who said I am going to listen to you?" I shot back, my voice sharp, controlled, carrying more confidence than I actually felt. I held his gaze without blinking, even though somewhere deep inside me, something was shifting, something dangerous, something I had buried long ago but never truly killed.
Because the truth was ugly and irritatingly persistent—I knew, somehow, that I might end up going with them. That stupid, fragile wish I had buried for years was still there, waiting, breathing, ready to claw its way back the moment it sensed even a little hope. And I hated that.
"You know better. You want to come too," Cain said calmly, like he wasn't even guessing, like he already knew the answer.
A frustrated sigh escaped me before I could stop it. Right. He said he could read people through expressions, which was annoying and invasive and something I absolutely did not appreciate. So I forced my face blank, tilted my head slightly, and looked at him like I didn't care at all.
"No," I said flatly.
He watched me for a moment, then shook his head slightly. "You are really stubborn," he muttered, almost amused. Then his gaze sharpened. "And why?"
That one word hit harder than it should have.
Why.
I had refused out of instinct, out of pride, out of the simple need to stay in control, but now that he asked, something inside me shifted. Not weakness. Not exactly. More like… pressure. Like words I had locked away for years were suddenly demanding to be heard.
I knew listening to my heart was dangerous, that it always led to trouble, to disappointment, to pain that lingered longer than it should, but at that moment, I didn't care. I really didn't.
"Because in sixteen years, I have survived alone," I started, my voice lower now but steady, my eyes locked on his. "And now you just show up out of nowhere and tell me to come with you so you can take me to my parents?" I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head. "No freaking way."
They didn't interrupt.
That alone made something loosen in my chest.
"When I know how to survive in this world, when I've already figured out how things work, why would I suddenly trust strangers?" I continued, my words coming faster now, spilling out before I could stop them. "You think I'll just follow you because you said a few convincing things? That's not how this works."
Maria and Cain stood there, silent, listening. Not mocking. Not dismissing. Just… listening.
And for some reason, that made it worse.
"I've been alone my whole life," I went on, my voice tightening despite myself. "No one came. No one helped. I had to learn everything myself—how to survive, how to fight, how to not break." My hands clenched slightly at my sides. "So no, I'm not just going to walk away from that like it means nothing."
The words didn't stop.
They kept coming.
I talked about things I never talked about, things I had buried so deep I had almost convinced myself they didn't exist anymore. My childhood, the hunger, the cold nights, the fear, the anger, the loneliness that never really left. I didn't even realize when my voice started shaking slightly or when my vision blurred.
I refused to let the tears fall.
I held them back stubbornly, blinking hard, forcing them to stay where they belonged. Weakness was not allowed. Not in front of them. Not in front of anyone.
When I finally stopped, a quiet, broken breath slipped out of me before I could stop it. I looked down quickly, wiping at my eyes like it didn't matter, like nothing had happened.
I can't let them see me like this. I can't let them think I'm weak.
I barely had time to steady myself before I felt something unexpected—a gentle hand resting on my head.
I froze.
My eyes, still slightly wet, lifted slowly. Maria stood close now, her expression softer than I had ever seen it, her hand still resting lightly against my hair.
"Don't feel ashamed," she said quietly, her voice nothing like before. "It's okay to let go sometimes."
Before I could react, her arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a hug.
I stiffened instantly, my body going completely still, caught off guard in a way I wasn't prepared for. I didn't even know how to respond. I just… stood there.
Slowly, I glanced toward Cain.
He was watching us, but there was no teasing this time, no coldness, no judgment. Just something calm. Something soft. And most importantly, no pity.
Relief settled in my chest at that.
Because pity was the one thing I couldn't stand. It made everything feel smaller, weaker, like all the things I had fought through didn't matter. And I refused to be seen like that.
Cain gave a small nod, as if reassuring me without words, then looked away slightly, giving space instead of intruding.
Maria's hold didn't tighten, didn't force. It was just… there. Warm. Steady. Safe in a way I had never experienced before.
Her eyes, when I looked at her again, held that same softness. No judgment. No pity. Just understanding. And I was more grateful for that than I could ever say out loud.
The warmth of her embrace slowly seeped into me, breaking through walls I hadn't even realized were still standing. My body relaxed without permission, my hands hesitating for a second before finally moving, gripping her clothes lightly as I returned the hug.
I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into it, just for a moment.
Because this… this kind of warmth, this kind of comfort, wasn't something I had ever been given before. And for once, even hates needing it but I didn't push it away.