“You fought together at the castle the day we escaped. You trusted him to guard your back then, what’s changed?” The question has been bugging me since Tor arrived and Vaeril showed him nothing but thinly veiled disgust.
“You, that’s what’s changed,” he barks. I suppose his comment could be thought of as romantic, but he said it like a curse, like he’s in pain. Removing my hand from his arm, I clutch it to my chest and take a step back, needing some space between us as I frown at his words. His answer wounded me more than I care to admit. Staring, I wait for him to explain, to backtrack, but he doesn’t, he simply watches me with a scowl.
He starts to reach out as if to stop me, but when he realises what he’s doing, he shakes his head and lets his arm fall to his side. “We had to escape. He distracted the guards so we could leave. That’s it,” he explains, as if what Tor did was simple and expected of him, instead of being an act that could have gotten him killed.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I arch an eyebrow. “You make it sound so selfish.” I know I’m picking a fight with him, but I can’t seem to stop myself, his earlier comment making me feisty.
“Selfish? I had been enslaved for over a century. I waited for you—” His face contorts with anger as he takes a step towards me. The menacing look and the move trigger a memory, it’s only a flash, a silhouette of guard, but the recollection of the pain that followed is enough to have me moving instinctively away. I step back and raise my arms to protect my head, but I don’t look where I’m going and bump into the armchair and fall back into it with an ‘oomph’ as the angry elf advances towards me. Vaeril promptly freezes, and a look of mortification crosses his face. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I know he wasn’t going to hurt me, and I need to tell him that, but I can see from Tor’s firm expression that he’s not going to let me apologise.
“Look, I’m exhausted. I just want to speak to Clarissa before I meet with the queen. I don’t know when I’ll get another opportunity,” Tor says, as he appears at Vaeril’s shoulder, cutting off the elf’s rant. I’m grateful he’s pulling the attention from me and giving me a chance to compose myself as Vaeril turns towards him, anger still coursing through his body. “I would guard her with my life,” the tribesman vows.
Vaeril stares at him in silence, until he finally makes a growling sound in the back of his throat. “Fine, I’ll be in the courtyard training.” His voice is much lower than usual, and I’m reminded again that he’s not human. “If you lay so much as a finger on her, I will know, and I don’t care if you’re an ambassador, I will kill you,” he warns, only a couple of inches from Tor as he glowers at him.
To Tor’s credit, he doesn’t flinch. “I understand,” he replies simply, but it’s enough for Vaeril to turn and lock his eyes on me. I know he’s not really angry at me, but the look he gives me makes me shiver.
I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s been altogether too chatty, telling my story to every elf who happens to ask when he doesn’t have the right to. Earlier…well, earlier I was too caught up in lust and got carried away. Thankfully, Tor arrived in time for me to cool my head, although having him here makes things much more complicated.
Without another word, Vaeril turns and leaves my room. Tor waits until we hear the click of the door closing before he closes the distance between us and offers me his hand. Taking it appreciatively, I stand and look up at my friend.
Friend. The word doesn’t quite fit. It sounds hollow as his eyes rove over me. We’re close, close enough that I can feel his body heat and his breath brushing my hair. Smiling down at me, he reaches out, his hand hovering near my cheek. Vaeril’s warning is still fresh in both our minds.
“A lot has changed since the last time we saw each other.” His voice is quieter, husky now that it’s just the two of us. My stomach flips at being this close to him, remembering the last time we were like this. Closing my eyes, I bask in his presence. Something calms within me now that he’s here and I know he’s safe.
Memories flash behind my closed eyelids. He held me, our bodies pressed together. The sound of fighting erupted around us, booted feet nearing as more soldiers came flooding into the courtyard…but my whole focus was on the man before me. His lips pressed against mine, a slight possessiveness in the way he pulled me closer, only serving to make me want him more.
Peeling open my eyes, I see he’s watching me with a predatory gleam, and I know he’s remembering the same memory as me. There is nothing I want more than to close the last couple of inches between us and relive the memory, but I know I’ll have to instigate it. In the courtyard, he kissed me, but I get the feeling he won’t do anything unless I make the first move. Awkwardness suddenly fills me as I remember what Vaeril’s lips felt like pressed against my own less than an hour ago. A blush colours my cheeks, and I take a small step back, clearing my throat as I look away, trying to fill the silence between us.
“I’m sorry about Vaeril and the others,” I offer, still looking around the room, unable to meet his gaze. “They’re…protective.”
His light chuckle has me looking up and seeing his wry smile as he rubs a hand over his beard. “I can’t blame them.”
There’s a brief silence again, and I shift from foot to foot. He fills me with conflicting emotions I don’t know how to deal with. Part of me wants to throw myself into his arms, inhale his masculine scent, and explore his skin to discover exactly how many tattoos his clothes hide. But the more sensible side is chiding me—I am in way over my head. Tor hasn’t kept his desires for me a secret, and I do feel pulled towards him, but then there’s Vaeril, who just dropped the bomb that we’re mates. And I don’t even know what to think of the connection I have with Grayson.
I miss him so much. I just hope he’s safe and his connection to me doesn’t put him in danger. Closing my eyes, I reach for the link between us, stroking it gently. Two of the glowing links within me are bright, practically humming, while the one that connects me to Grayson is dim, but it’s still strong, and a feeling of reassurance reaches me as I touch it. I would know if something awful happened to him, right?
A gentle cough has me opening my eyes. Tor is watching me with an expression I can’t decipher. “Tor, why are you here?” I finally ask the question that’s been bugging me since I saw him in my doorway.
“I told you already. I had to find you,” he repeats. He doesn’t step any closer, respecting the distance I’ve put between us, but I know he wants to, I can feel his need to be close to me.
“Why?”
“I think you know why.” He levels a look at me. “Don’t try and play dumb, Clarissa. We have the ematus,” he explains, reverting to his native tongue. Ematus. The word has power, and it rolls over me, my breath hitching as my wrist glows softly as if in confirmation. “I followed it to find you. When I first met you, it flared to life within me and I knew then.”
He pauses, and I can tell he’s trying to decide how much to tell me. I hold my breath, knowing what he’s going to say. I’m not sure I can deal with that knowledge right now, and he seems to sense it, shaking his head.