Page 42 of Condemned to Love

I take her hand, letting her pull me to my feet. "Looking forward to it."

20

ELOWEN

Islip through the forest, my feet barely making a sound on the soft earth. The stream's gentle gurgle beckons me, a soothing balm after another grueling day of training. I've learned to be vigilant out here, always on guard for the beasts that roam the wildspont.

As I near the base on my return journey, something catches my eye. A flicker of movement. I freeze, pressing myself against a thick tree trunk, my heart pounding so loudly I'm afraid it might give me away. The forest suddenly feels too quiet, too still.

My breath catches in my throat, a familiar icy dread creeping up my spine. Dark elves. Their sleek, shadowy forms move with an eerie grace through the underbrush, silent as death herself.

My hand instinctively reaches for the dagger at my hip, fingers curling around the worn leather grip, but I force myself to remain still. There are too many of them, and I know all too well what they're capable of.

I count six, maybe seven. Their armor glints dully in the filtered sunlight, intricate designs etched into the metal – symbols of power and cruelty. They move with purpose, heads swiveling as if searching for something. Violet and red and blackeyes scan the forest floor, and I hold my breath, praying to whatever gods might listen that they don't look up and spot me.

Suddenly, I see the spot they are headed for, and my eyes widen in disbelief. The air there shimmers, rippling like the surface of a pond. It's subtle, like heat rising from sun-baked stone, but as I focus, it becomes more distinct.

And the dark elves stride towards it without hesitation, like they know exactly where it is. My mind races, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing.

One by one, they step into the distortion and vanish. It's as if they're walking through an invisible doorway, their forms blurring at the edges before disappearing completely. I blink hard, trying to quell the rising fear in my body.

My heart pounds in my chest. I've only seen one of these portals. And though it was late and I was injured, I will never forget the otherworldly power that poured off it. The wildspont, a gateway between realms. And the dark elves know exactly where to find it.

As the last soldier fades from view, the air settles. The forest looks unchanged, but I know what I've witnessed. The enemy was here, right on our doorstep. And now they're gone, slipping back to wherever they came from.

I wait, barely daring to breathe, counting the seconds until I'm sure it's safe to move. My mind races. I need to tell Aldric. We need to warn the others. The dark elves are closer than we thought, and they have a way in and out that we never knew existed.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. This is reckless, foolish even, but I can't let this opportunity slip away. We need information, and I'm right here. Before I can talk myself out of it, I dart forward.

The air shimmers around me as I step through the portal. For a heartbeat, everything blurs. My stomach lurches, and then?—

I stumble onto soft grass, the scent of magic thick in the air. It's intoxicating, making my head spin. But at the same time, it's familiar.

I am back in Protheka. In fact, spinning toward the portal, I realize this was the very one I was led through before. But I barely have time to think about it because then I hear it.

Voices. Dark elves. Close.

Quickly, I dive behind a massive tree, its bark thrumming with energy beneath my palm. I press myself against the trunk, barely daring to breathe.

I strain my ears, trying to catch every word of the dark elves' conversation. Their voices are low, but the wind flows the sound toward me.

"The vrakken at the next base won't know what hit them," a deep voice chuckles.

"Don't underestimate them," another snaps. "Remember what happened at the last raid?"

There's a moment of tense silence before a third voice speaks up. "It doesn't matter. We have the element of surprise this time."

"That worked well to eliminate a whole base. Besides, we have more numbers," the first voice adds. "How many did the Captain say we're bringing?"

"At least a hundred," comes the reply. "Maybe more if the scouts report back favorably."

My heart races. A hundred dark elves? The base won't stand a chance.

"When do we move out?" someone asks.

"Two days from now," the authoritative voice answers. "At dawn. Use the sun to our advantage. We'll hit them when they least expect it."

I bite my lip to keep from gasping. Two days. That's all the time we have to prepare.

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