I gave him a chilly smile. “After you.”

He snorted and led the way, the other elf following behind.

We walked for what felt like ages, tired as I was. Down more confusing corridors, down an incline, and down a long flight of stairs before turning into a narrow hall with a handful of heavy wooden doors on either side. Pervy-elf unlocked the first door on the left and gestured for me to enter the chilly, pitch-black chamber beyond—presumably my prison. When the door closed and locked behind me, I conjured my pitiful fairy light. The flame usually resembled simple candlelight, but after hours of such darkness, it shone like a torch to my eyes.

There was a bed—large enough for two, I noted, and shuddered. There was a chamber pot and a bit of pipe with a lever that must be the cold-water source pervy-elf had mentioned and a hole in the floor beneath it, likely a drain.

The light sputtered out and I shuffled toward where the bed should be. I didn’t try to summon light again until I felt the coarse linens against my fingertips. My nose told me they were stale but clean. The light only lasted a handful of seconds this time, but it was long enough to see the bedposts were worn where one might tie down its occupant. My throat tightened as the light guttered and finally blinked out. It was just as well. Who knows what other unsettling details it might reveal.

“One terrible thing at a time,” I sighed to myself.

It was time to lay down and recover. Afterall, I would need my strength if I was going to escape. A few days of food and rest were in order before making an attempt.

I crawled between the sheets and pulled the light blanket up to my chin.

Despite my exhaustion, sleep was elusive. Alone in the darkness, I longed for the warmth of Lhoris’ body. Though not just because of the chill. Capable as I was, there was a sense of security in having someone skilled and trustworthy at my back. But … it was so much more than that. His quick smile. His kind and generous heart. He made me feel cherished without treating me like I was fragile, and he wasn’t put off by my rough edges. He never underestimated me or made me feel inadequate.

He'd given me such hope. Something I hadn’t much experienced. Something that definitely didn’t exist in these tunnels.

I hugged myself and curled around my bent knees remembering how he’d teased me in the hammock; that his absence would leave me longing. He probably hadn’t meant longing of the heart, but he hadn’t been far off.

I had been so worried that Emma pushed us together more than we realized, especially after her apologies. But there I was, underground, days away from her influence and pained by his absence. I finally, fully believed that my love for him was real. The shame of it hurt worse than the loneliness. Shame for having to go this far to accept what my heart had been trying to tell me.

I tucked my chin against my chest and finally allowed myself to cry.

CHAPTER 2

Lhoris and I couldn't ride as hard as Oz’s kidnappers, though it wasn’t from lack of desire. We were both well motivated to retrieve her. If horses could be driven by sheer willpower, Lhoris alone could’ve overtaken them. He obviously wanted his woman back. I only needed to secure the unborn child she carried.

My child, unfortunately.

We just didn’t have the resources to catch up with Dulanzo’s people. They gave their mounts potions for more speed and greater endurance. They’d be two or three days ahead of us by the time we reached the fortress.

We had to take more breaks to let the horses rest as they needed throughout the night, only stopping to sleep at the break of dawn. Traveling in the later part of the day and through the night helped us avoid most of the human population and kept the sun out of our eyes. It was also an easier trip with just the two of us. All we needed was enough cover for the horses, which meant we mostly stopped at the first convenient copse of trees or hill off the road.

Lhoris worried me though. He was … not sick but unwell. Initially he was just antsy and obnoxious, but the longer we were on the road, the worse it got. He hardly slept. He barely ate. What made it really uncomfortable, though, was his silence. When he wasn’t pretending to be a normal dark elf, it was hard to get him to shut up. Sure, he occasionally spoke up to complain about whatever, but the rest of the time he maintained sullen silence … it was so dense and hostile that it was almost a living thing. An invisible, unwanted presence between us. And it felt wrong.

But why shouldn’t he be upset with me? He wasn’t an idiot. He knew I wouldn’t have tied this rag around my neck if it didn’t have a little bit of my essence wrapped up in Ozanna’s scent. The bond Lhoris and Oz forged before the incident would eventually fade away without their offspring keeping it open, but for now, it was going to be a thorn in his side. And it looked like that meant he was going to be a pain in my ass.

Thankfully I didn’t have that problem yet. I was just feeling the pull to form that connection. It was tolerable if I kept her kerchief close to my face. Her scent kept my head clear of the sort of instinct that was driving Lhoris to … whatever this was. And I doubted the fabric would help him, especially since it probably smelled more like me. I was used to dragging through life bonded to a mate I hadn’t seen in years. This was significantly less painful.

While I’d been a father many times, I’d never encountered something like this fun little situation. Never heard of anything like it either, but that’s not saying much. Irnon’s cult of evil cunts keep males as ignorant of that shit as possible. We were only ever told what we needed to know at the time.

So, when Lhoris, the silence, and I stopped one morning, halfway to our destination, we carried on brooding and stewing. It was second nature for me, really. But Lhoris … it wasn’t like him at all. I hated it. Not because of how uncomfortable it made me, but because I knew he was suffering.

He’d placed his bedroll along a fallen tree, and I thought he might finally sleep instead of trance when he first laid down. But it wasn’t long before his foot started rocking back and forth so violently it nearly shifted his entire body. Then he sat up with an irritated sigh and leaned against the log, one crossed leg bouncing in place, squinting against the dawn light. I watched him warily from my bedroll in the shade provided by a copse of trees, while I sat and chewed on some dried beef.

He rubbed his face, then dropped his hands and sighed in aggravation. “Could you possibly chew any louder?” he complained through clenched teeth.

That was a new one. I paused a moment but then continued to chew what was in my mouth and rolled my eyes. “Sorry. I’ll just go hungry,” I grumbled with a shake of my head and put the rations away.

It was just another addition to the growing list of things I did that annoyed him. First it was the tone of my voice, then the way I looked at him, the pace of my horse, the places I wanted to camp, and now I couldn’t even chew my food. Wonderful.

I’d done what I could to avoid pissing him off and given him plenty of space. It wasn’t his fault he was so fucked up and it wouldn’t help anything to hold it against him. But fratricide was pretty common in my culture. And matricide … patricide … any flavor of familial murder, really. I just never thought Lhoris would be the one to watch out for, but there it was in his eyes.

Shit.

After days of silence, he finally spoke.