Chapter 111: A slip up.

July 18 2026, 5:34am.

Elara jolted out of sleep with a start. Her body shook with tension as sweat clung to her damp skin. Quite shaky, she rose from her bed and pressed her hand to her chest as her heart pounded against her ribs when she realised that all of that was only just a dream.

A nightmare.

A secret she had held on to for so long.

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. But she was not crying out of remorse. If anything, she cried because she hated that she had such a big secret weighing her down. She cried because for as long as she lived, she knew it would hunt her.

And hell, that was the last thing she wanted.

She did not realise when she slipped into the bathroom until the cold tiles against her bare feet jolted her out of her train of thought. She sighed, then walked over to the sink, intending to splash some cold water on her face.

However, as soon as she walked over and stood in front of the mirror, her body immediately closed up and she froze.

Why?

Because it was not her reflection she found on the shiny surface glaring right back at her. It was the reflection of the princess. The dead one.

Princess Leilani.

Her heart kicked wildly against her chest at the sight and her knees buckled, almost sending her toppling to the floor. The shock made her break out in cold sweat, but upon deciding that it was only her mind playing tricks on her, she gripped hard at the porcelain sink and squeezed her eyes shut.

"This is false!" She mumbled shakily under her breath, "...none of this is real!"

After successfully convincing herself, she slowly peeled her eyes open and when she did so, she found herself staring back this time with her tangled hair, pale flushed face, and shrunken shoulders that shook with each micro-movement she took.

She looked like a shell of herself. Like a caricature of what she used to be, and that in itself did not sit right with her.

Tiredly, she leaned down to fetch some water into her hands and then she splashed it on her face... once... twice.

The image in the mirror changed again and once more, she found herself staring right into the angry reddened eyes of a dead girl.

"Go away!" She cried loudly, stumbling back. Her back hit the wall behind her with a force, sending an unbearable pain shooting up her back.

A twisted cry slipped out of her dry lips and the shout soon died in her throat when the fluorescent light in the ceiling chose that moment to twitch.

It went off and then came on... again and again. And the more it did it, the more Elara felt like she was about to hyperventilate.

"The lights have never done this before..." she hissed under her breath, and when the lights came back on, the reflection of Leilani in the mirror had grown.

It was humongous!

"Arghhh! Helpppp! Get back! Go away!" She cried out, burying her face between her hands. Her body shook as she fell hard against the floor, with enough force that the whole room trembled.

Pain lanced through her body, but at the time, she cared less about it and more about the girl who wanted to kill her.

The girl who was after her instead of her real murderer.

Shock made her chest start to heave. Her vision blurred around the edges, making it impossible for her to see. Her body shook violently, uncontrollably, until foam began to form at the corner of her mouth. And goddess, she feared that this was her end... that this would be the part where she drops dead and dies... that this—

"ELARA?!" A loud voice echoed through the bathroom, slipping into her unconsciousness.

Elara wanted to respond. She wanted to tell the person about the image in the mirror. She wanted to cry out and let them know about the girl who was trying to kill her. However, her throat felt too tight and her tongue felt like it had grown so large that it was swollen and had blocked her windpipe.

Her lips parted slowly but no words would come out, and when she tried harder, her throat began to hurt. To burn. To simmer.

She could almost taste the metallic tang brewing at the base of her throat. Could almost feel the way her blood bubbled out from an unknown cut somewhere inside her mouth.

She thrashed wildly against the floor, shaking as tears streamed down her face, and just when she had begun to think that the voice she heard was in her head, she suddenly felt warm arms wrapping around her shoulder.

"Elara?" The voice came again, softer this time, and in response, she buried her face into the person’s chest, squeezed her eyes shut, and began to mumble;

"I did not kill her! I did not even hit her! All I did was watch her get beaten. I wasn’t the one who pushed her off so why the fuck is she after me?"

The person holding her froze infinitesimally but soon regained their composure.

"What do you mean?" They asked, sounding soft— so soft, you’d think they cared about her.

Maybe it was the soothing voice they used or maybe it was something else, but Elara soon found herself melting into the hug. She closed her eyes and dragged a deep breath into her lungs. She also buried her fingers into the person’s clothes and sniffed. Hard.

"Leilani. The accursed girl! She’s the one I am talking about! She was in my dreams before I woke up and in the mirror when I tried to rinse my face!"

"Calm down, calm down!"

"She has been after me for the past couple of days. Fine, I admit that I was wrong for plotting against her and framing her, but I did not kill her! I never would have done something like that so why won’t she let me be?!"

"What are you trying to say, Elara?" The voice came again, sharper this time, and Elara had no choice but to keep rambling.

She pressed her hands to her aching temple and lowered her wet lashes. Her body shook violently as she cried;

"I am trying to say that I did not kill Leilani! I only watched it happen! Tristan was the one who hit her and beat her to a pulp, and my f—"

"What the hell are you doing there, Elara?" Another voice cut in all of a sudden, snapping both Elara and the strange person out of their respective hazes.

Elara glanced up quickly and her breath left her chest in one burst when she realized that the person she had been talking to was not her mother. Hell, it was not even Tristan or their father.

It was Emeriel.

Emeriel the new bodyguard who she always found suspicious.

Emeriel the shy boy who just started working for the pack but had more off days than the frail nurse who works at the pack’s hospital.

The boy rose to his feet slowly and shifted his armor around his shoulder. Then he bowed. "I am sorry, Lady Celine and Lady Elara, I was on patrol duty when I heard Lady Elara screaming so I came in to help. I would never have stepped in but I was forced to when I noticed that she was convulsing and was unresponsive to my voice. I only meant to help. Now, if you would excuse me..."

"Stop!" Celine barked, her eyes narrowing as she watched him bounce from foot to foot, "Tell me, what did you hear my daughter say?"

Emeriel, who had heard everything loud and clear, pretended to frown. Then he lowered his head and muttered;

"Do not take this the wrong way, my lady, but the only thing I heard her say was how she feared looking into the mirror. She talked about how she hated the color of her hair and mentioned wanting to dye it even though she knows you’ll be against it."

"Really?" Celine asked, stunned. She tilted her head to the side and smirked slightly when he nodded.

"Yes... yes, my lady."

With that, he spun on his heels and walked away, leaving Celine watching his retreating frame with a mixture of annoyance and irritation... while Elara watched him with a pair of narrowed eyes and a shattered mind.

She had thought—

Hell, she had thought she’d spilled the beans on him, or had she imagined all of that?

Was he lying?

Goddess, she had no idea!