Page 6 of The Goddesses' Gifts

“Right,” he agreed, though his sour expression stayed put. “I haven't any idea how to accomplish it,” he admitted miserably.

Oh, I had an idea. It just sucked.

“I have to challenge Dulanzo to a duel,” I said with a shrug.

Lhoris stared at me in shock for a moment. “You?” he huffed a bitter, mocking laugh. “The last time you saw Dulanzo, you froze in your tracks.”

Heat crept up my face, but I managed not to flinch at the words. He’d meant them to hurt, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it worked. But he wasn’t wrong. The last time I’d met Dulanzo I’d had a full blown, uncontrolled panic. Full on shaking and gasping. But that was a surprise visit to my prison cell for the winter, and he’d caught me off guard. I always managed when I had time to prepare.

“Shut up,” I spat. “That dirtfucker won't fight clean, and you aren’t thinking straight. He’ll use that against you. You’re so fucked up over your woman that you can’t even have a conversation with me.”

“But your deceitful nature means you're better suited to spirit them away. What happens if you freeze during the duel and end up dead? I’ll have to fight him anyway.”

“Bah,” I scoffed and laid down. “This isn't getting anywhere. You and your concussion get first watch.”

We never got to talk about the little pearl of magic Emma had given him. I didn’t know what to do with it—doubt he did either.

Though I’d been trapped in a cult my entire life, I’d never actually prayed before. Worship was reserved for Irnon’s daughters while she only commanded obedience from males. And now that I’d seen real divine magic at work, I wondered if it wouldn’t be wise to appeal to whatever or whoever had given Emma power. Prayer couldn’t be that much different than magic, could it?

I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered with intention. “Please, please, please…” and just hoped that the right entity would hear me.

Please, please, please…

CHAPTER 3

OZANNA

Istartled awake when the lock clicked, breaking the silence of my prison. My heart leapt into my throat, and I sat frozen, waiting for someone to speak. Was Dulanzo making good on his promise to come for me? But further along couldn’t possibly mean the few hours or so since I’d fallen asleep. I sat up and turned my face toward the creak of hinges. There came the rustling of fabric and the dull thump of a closing door.

“Who’s there?” I asked the darkness and bounced out of bed. I brought my hands up in defense and waited for whoever it was to make their move. The hair stood up on the back of my neck while I waited for my visitor to reveal themselves and their intentions. Eye lights settled on my face and tipped as if the elf watching me had tilted their head.

“Oh, huh,” came a somewhat familiar male voice. A pale white light popped into existence, causing me to squint momentarily. “You can’t make a light?” It was pervy-elf. Wonderful.

He didn’t look quite so disheveled now, topknot smooth and tidy, and he was dressed in black pants, cotton blouse, and dark red dueling vest. The light sat in the palm of one hand while he held a tray of food in the other, which was good, but it didn’t stop me from glaring at him. “I can. It just doesn’t last long.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he shook his head and lifted the light to the ceiling where it hovered above our heads. “Didn’t have anyone to teach you, hm?” His voice was softer, more conversational than before, no teasing edge or sarcastic body language. “It’s not uncommon with halfies raised without their elven parent.”

I snorted indelicately. “Well, it’s not as if I had any say in it.”

He grimaced and put the tray of food down on the little table beside the bed. “Damn,” he said, stepping back. “That’s a shame. You’ll really struggle to grow that child if you haven’t developed enough power to do even that.”

I crossed my arms with a heavy sigh. “How so?” I asked drily.

He stared down his nose at me for a moment, assessing. “You really have no idea?”

“No more than I did a moment ago,” I grumbled. “Care to elaborate?” My words may have sounded hostile, but his suggestion that I wouldn’t carry the child well was concerning.

“Shit,” he hissed and tipped his head to stare up at the ceiling, as if asking the stone above why me? “You have rotten mates,” he grumbled. “They should have taught you.”

“Well, considering we only just discovered I was with child when you stole me away, they didn’t really get the opportunity to say much of anything on the matter,” I countered, though it took an extra moment before I grasped the significance of the word mates.

“You weren’t pregnant before?” he asked, eyeing me warily.

“I lost it very early on,” I answered, chin held high. “We didn’t get a chance to discuss much of anything that time either.”

“Hmm.” Pervy-elf moved closer, cocked his head and sniffed the air. “Not the same father, this time,” he said thoughtfully. I scowled back and opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but the meaning of his words gradually filtered through my temper. Not the same father. “Not that I care,” he continued, “but it is highly unusual. That bond to … which is the first?”

“Lhoris,” I whispered.

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