Blood Soldiers: The Second Army - Grishaverse Prequel

35 - Yelena

Yelena awoke with a start, her breath coming in terrified rasps. She brushed her hair back off her head.

She was safe. She was back in the Little Palace. She wasn't in the Fold anymore.

Laying back, Yelena lit her lamp, and saw the small clock. Three hours after midnight.

Beside her, Stefan shifted, pulling her closer. Yelena leaned into him as he asked, "What was it this time?"

She shook her head, "Nothing, it's fine. Go back to sleep." Yelena almost winced at how harsh it came out.

He sat up, his dark brows drawing together, "Lena..."

Yelena sighed, rolling onto her back. He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it back from her face as she tried to form the words. "It was...the Fold. I'm sorry..." Tears came hot and fast, and he held her close.

"You're safe, I've got you," he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair. Yelena leaned into him, listening to his heartbeat in his chest.

After Aleksander had fled, Yelena had tried to come up with a plan through her shock. She had been so heartbroken, knowing that whatever they had once was destroyed forever. How could he have done that? How could he use merzost? How could he have killed her Grisha?

Kribirsk and the surrounding towns had been swallowed up by the enormous wall of darkness that extended across the country. At the time, she couldn't even see the edge of it.

Eryk, Sonya, and Marko had been attempting to regain order while the surviving Healers tended to the wounded. Irina and Pavel had been killed before her. Two of her oldest friends, gone. Dima had been killed in the chaos too, as had Lovisa. Two hundred Grisha had died that day. Over a thousand First Army soldiers too.

"Where is he?" Lars had raged over his sister's body, completely torn into ribbons by those awful creatures. "I'll kill him myself for this!"

Marko had placed a hand on his shoulder, his own simmering rage evident as the air around them heated with the flames that sprung up on his arms, "You won't be alone my friend. I am sorry."

"Yelena!" Eryk had called, finally seeing her, "Where is he? Where's Irina?"

His daughter wailed as he tried to rock her back to sleep, but all Yelena could do as she looked at Feodora was shake her head. "I'm sorry."

"No..." Eryk's heartbroken sobs had broken her out of her stupor and she broke down with them.

"He's gone..." she finally confessed. They had not been upset, relieved perhaps, and glad that he would not hurt them again. Even so, the rest of Yelena's cracked heart had shattered beyond repair as she lied to them, let them believe she had killed him. Her weakness would come back to haunt them still.

Now, Yelena thought of those final moments in the Fold. Changing his face, her body shaking with rage and terror. What had he done? What had she done? Lying to them all... Yelena dreaded the day he would return, especially now, over twenty years later.

Stefan kissed her forehead, "What are you thinking about?"

Yelena sighed, as she tried to think of how to answer him.

She hadn't meant to fall for Stefan. After Aleksander, she swore she would never again fall in love. Would never allow herself to become so blinded by love that she could not see a person for who they really were.

Until she had found herself on a rare outing to escort new Grisha children to the palace. It had been a welcome change from the monotony of Palace life. They had stopped by a Fjerdan outpost where Drüskelle sightings had become more and more frequent.