“I haven’t shown anyone this place before,” he says quietly, his eyes still on the fireflies. “Not even the guys.”
Something in his voice makes me turn to look at him. The usual cockiness is gone.
“Why me?”
He shrugs, plucking at the grass. “Because you belong here with us, and I want to show you that you can trust me.” His eyes find mine in the dim light. “Maybe you’re not ready to hear that, but it’s true. You do fit with us, Blue. You fit with me.”
I don’t know what to say, so I stay quiet, watching the tiny lights blink around us. It’s quiet for a few minutes; peaceful in the cool night air, sitting next to Elias.
“When the coup happened,” he finally says, “I was only eleven.”
My breath catches.
“Everyone talks about how brave Darius was, how he stepped up and saved what was left of the packs. And he did.” Elias’s voice drops lower. “But nobody talks about how I hid in a closet and pissed myself.”
I turn to face him. This isn’t the Elias I know—the one who jokes and flirts and never takes anything seriously.
“I was so scared,” he says, his eyes on the ground. “I could hear screaming from outside. My mom grabbed me and told me to hide in the closet. She told me not to come out, no matter what I heard. So I stayed hidden, even when I heard her begging for her life.”
His voice breaks on the last word, and my chest aches.
“Elias—”
“Darius found me hours later. He caught one of the traitors sneaking into our house, looking for survivors or loot. Who knows? I could hear him crashing around, knocking stuff over. I was terrified he would find me. And he would have eventually, if not for Darius.”
I glance over at Elias, but his eyes go distant.
“I watched through the crack in the closet door as Darius killed him, tore his throat out with his bare hands. When I finally came out, blood was everywhere.”
I can picture it. Teenage Darius, covered in blood, is fighting for his life and the lives of everyone left.
“He saved me,” Elias says. “And I just sat there. Frozen. Couldn’t even make a sound.”
I reach out and touch his hand. I don’t know why I do it, but it feels right. “You were a child.”
“Yeah. But after that, I decided I’d never be that scared again. I’d never be that… useless.” He gives a hollow laugh. “I never wanted anyone to feel that scared, so I became the funny one. The clown. The one who keeps everyone’s spirits up. Because that’s what I could do.”
His hand turns over beneath mine, our fingers intertwining.
“I know you think I’m just a shallow flirt who can’t take anything seriously,” he says. “And most of the time, that’s exactly what I want people to think. It’s easier. But with you…” He pauses. “With you, I’d like to be more than that.”
I’m about to answer when he jumps to his feet.
“Come on,” he says, holding out his hand. “Let’s catch some.”
I grab his hand, following him into the center of the clearing where the fireflies are thickest. We chase them like idiots, laughing when they escape our grasp, cursing when we trip over uneven terrain. I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this. Full and free, without having to watch my back.
“Got one!” I cup my hands around a firefly, feeling its tiny body bumping against my palms.
Elias leans in close, his face inches from mine. “Make a wish,” he says.
I close my eyes. What do I wish for? Safety? Freedom? More mashed potatoes?
When I open them, Elias is watching me with an intensity that makes my skin flush. “What did you wish for?” he asks.
I open my hands, releasing the firefly. It spirals up into the darkness, blinking as it goes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
His fingers brush against mine, and a jolt runs up my arm. “Maybe I would.”