Page 205 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

Without even realising what I’m doing, I take a step towards him, reaching out. “Eldrin…” I don’t know what I would have done if I touched him, but the desire to be closer to him, to show him what his words mean to me are driving my actions. There’s a look of longing on his face, but at the last second, he turns and starts walking away from me, leaving my hand grasping empty air. Frowning at the disappointment piercing my chest, I stand and watch him.

Glancing over his shoulder, he realises I’m not following and frowns, gesturing for me to hurry up. “Come. Let’s try something else,” he demands. His voice is back to normal, that soft tone he used is gone, and it snaps me into action.

Minding my staff, I jog to his side, watching him out of the corner of my eye. “No more fighting?” We’re walking towards the small grove of trees, which surprises me. We’ve never done training that involved anything like this before.

“No, the chief is going to teach you to fight, my job is to help you access your fae side.” He frowns like he can’t work out why he’s been picked to be the one to do this, but shakes his head and gestures to the trees ahead of us. “I thought you’d feel more at home here.”

I discovered that while I was part elf, I wasn’t a high elf like Vaeril and my friends, but wood elf. When I visited them in the forest before we had to escape to the mountains, I had never felt more at home anywhere else, and if I’m being honest, although we weren’t there long, I miss it. Speaker Hawthorn and a couple of the other elves there worked their way into my heart. And it wasn’t just the elves, but the forest too. The whole place felt welcoming, my body feeling alive while being surrounded by the magic of the trees.

Walking up to the copse, Eldrin stops just as he reaches the edge of the grove and gestures for me to go first. Looking up at the towering trees, I smile as I walk past him, reaching out and brushing my hand over one of the trunks. They’re much smaller and slimmer than the trees in the elves’ forest, and the leaves in the canopy are a brighter green, the sun filtering through and landing on the mossy ground in a dappled pattern. I can feel Eldrin’s gaze on me, but I’m busy concentrating on the sensation of the trees around me. As I move deeper, it becomes colder as the leaves above get thicker, blocking out the sun, but that doesn’t bother me. Closing my eyes, I stretch my awareness, taking a deep, calming breath.

The trees aren’t sentient here, it’s like they’re…slumbering. In the ancient forest where the wood elves live, the trees spoke to me, welcomed me. It’s very different here, the presence of magicis missing. However, there is an overall feeling of awareness, of them being connected, and with my senses extended like this, I am connected to them too. It’s peaceful here, and as I push my consciousness into the ground around me, I feel my worries disappear. Something catches my attention, and I know it’s Eldrin slowly making his way towards me.

“I was right.”

Opening my eyes, I turn to ask him what he’s talking about, only to find that I’m surrounded by greenery. Shoots and buds are sprouting from the ground in an almost perfect ring around me. My mouth drops open and I jump out of the circle, making sure not to crush any of the plants. “What happened?” I gasp, staring at the still growing shoots. This isn’t possible. I gape as I watch a wildflower bloom from nothing.

“You accessed your fae side,” he explains, and again, I feel his gaze on me, but I can’t pull my attention from the spectacle in front of me. “Being here seems to help you ground yourself and let your magic free, allowing you to link with that part of yourself.” That catches my attention.

My magic? Moving away from the still growing patch of flowers, I notice that the farther away I go, the more the growth seems to slow down, but I’m too focused on what he just said. My mind spins. I’ve been told more times than I can count by the magicians in Arhaven that I don’t have magic, that my gifts are something else. I must be misunderstanding what he’s saying. Looking up, I find Eldrin watching me with a thoughtful expression. “Explain elf magic to me.”

His eyebrows shoot up at my demand, and for a moment I think he’s going to bark at me, to tell me he’s not my slave, but to my surprise, he leans against a tree and pulls his dagger from the sheath at his waist. “It’s not magic like your magicians possess.” He snarls the word ‘magician,’ and I can practically feelhis hatred for them from here as he carves a stick he found on the ground with his blade.

I’m suddenly grateful Eldrin was not there when Grayson found me during our escape to the mountains. The elf queen had just declared me a traitor, and we were running to the mountain tribes, and somehow, Grayson managed to track me down with our partially formed bond. It hadn’t been the smoothest of reunions, given he thought Vaeril abducted me and the two of them tried to kill each other. Eldrin had been tortured for years and has a lot of unresolved rage, especially for the scarring on his face. I know he blames the magicians personally for that. Eventually, the two are going to meet, and when they do, I’m not quite sure how it’s going to go down.

“All fae are magical,” Eldrin finally continues, still carving the now hacked piece of wood in his hands. “We carry it in our blood, and in elves, that shows in different ways. For the sea elves, they can survive underwater far longer than should be possible and predict storms. Some of their strongest can control the water to certain extents.” I’m listening intently, his voice hypnotic. His gaze flicks up from his blade, and he nods, gesturing towards me with the knife. “Wood elves can communicate with nature and encourage growth. Some can speak with the creatures of the forests too, but I don’t know much about that.” Nodding to acknowledge I heard him, I step closer so I can hear him better. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say so much in one go, and I don’t think it’ll happen again, so I’m making the most of it. “All high elves have a small amount of power. We are trained from a young age to push that power into metal to create our weapons, and our strongest become our greatest blacksmiths.”

Images of Vaeril slaving away in a forge push their way into my mind. My heart clenches at the thought of him being a prisoner for so many years, locked away in that swelteringunderground room, forced to make weapons to be used against his own kind. Elven weaponry is some of the sturdiest material known to man and one of the reasons they have survived against the magicians on the battlefield. Not only is it strong and almost impossible to break, but if the rumours are true, some of the weapons have powers. I once heard one of the soldiers returning from battle talking of a hammer that, when it hit the ground, emitted a shock wave so large that it knocked back twenty men. Which was why when I discovered and liberated Vaeril from the castle in Arhaven, I stopped the human’s access to elven weaponry.

Oblivious to where my mind has wandered, Eldrin continues. “Most high elves don’t have enough power to do anything else with it, but we are generally faster and stronger than the sea and wood elves.” I wonder how true that is but keep my thoughts to myself. “Within the royal line, there is some magical talent. You’ve witnessed the queen’s…abilities firsthand.” Eldrin pulls a face. The forsaken. Somehow, the queen is creating and controlling them. We still don’t know how she does it, we didn’t even know it was possible to create the forsaken, let alone control them, but we do know that to become, one the host has to die. She had an army of them, two of whom were my friends. Pain stabs at my chest, and I screw my eyes shut to block out the images. Instantly, my bonds flare to life. My mates feel my pain and distress, and they’re reaching out to me, trying to soothe me. Vaeril with his steady calmness, Grayson with his unending love, and Tor with his larger than life presence.

Eldrin doesn’t ask if I’m okay, he doesn’t question what’s wrong or pry, but I feel him shift his weight and move closer to me. I shouldn’t know these things. My senses are no longer extended, so I shouldn’t be able to tell that he’s watching me, or that he’s trying to decide if he should reach out and touch me. We don’t have a fated bond, I can’t sense others this way, sowhy is he different? I don’t move, keeping my eyes closed and my attention fully attuned on the elf behind me, and I realise the pain has gone and the memories have faded. I’d been so focused on him that the all-consuming grief and guilt waned to the background. It will never fully go away, I will carry it with me always, like I will carry the memories of those I failed with me.

Taking a deep breath, I focus on the sounds around me. The gentle breeze in the trees, the warmth of the sun filtering through the leaves and onto my skin, the gentle nudge of the forest at my awareness. Opening my eyes, I look over at the patch of wildflowers and plants where I pushed my senses into the ground. Amazement courses through me that I was able to create something so beautiful, so alive. The queen made flowers grow, only for them to die minutes later, am I really any different? Doubt courses through me as I remember the queen’s show of power back in Galandell when she was trying to scare me—she succeeded.

Except yours is thanks to your wood elf heritage, not death magic, I remind myself, but that doesn’t stop me from glancing over at the flowers to check if they’re still alive.

Thinking over everything Eldrin told me about the elves’ magic, I frown as I remember seeing Vaeril’s glowing hands on several occasions, and more than just when he was imbedding it into his weapons. “I’ve seen Vaeril use magic before, his hands were glowing…” Horror struck, I spin around to look at Eldrin, who put his dagger away. He’s standing a couple of paces from me with a look of bored amusement on his face. “Wait… Is Vaeril related to—”

“No,” he scoffs, and I sigh with relief. I’m not sure I could cope if they were related. “There’s some distant royalty in his ancestry, it must have passed down to him,” he reasons.

There’s a pause as I nod, and we look at each other, his gaze intense, the silence stretching. “How did you know?” I finallyinquire, breaking the tension building between us. Eldrin raises a single eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching up, and I realise I’ve asked half a question. “That being surrounded by the forest would help release my fae abilities?” I rush to finish, flushing as he starts strolling towards me, that determined look on his face again.

“I guessed,” is all he replies, still moving towards me. Frowning, I take a step back as he gets closer, not sure what he’s about to do. “Now, protect yourself,” he barks, suddenly launching himself at me, his dagger flashing in his hand seemingly from nowhere.

Instinctively, I drop to the ground and roll to the side, springing up into a defensive position and spinning to face him, snarling as I reach for my staff. Except when I rolled to avoid his attack, I lost it. Scanning the ground, I see it among the bracken. Eldrin is standing between me and my weapon, and from the smug look on his face, he knows it. Patting the hilt at my waist, I find the dagger still hanging there, but I don’t pull it out, not yet. I’m not very good with a blade, and unless I’m up close, it’s useless. Besides, if I’m that close to Eldrin, I’ve lost. I’ve never once won against him when I’m that close. I need to keep him at arm’s length.

Eldrin takes a step towards me, and I take a step back, mirroring the movement. He moves, I move. “What are you going to do now?” he goads, knowing that without my staff, I have little fighting skill. The staff has been my strongest weapon so far, and I know if I can get it back, I have a chance. “Use every advantage you have. Focus on your speed, your strength, they are your weapons just as much as that staff.”

He separated me from the staff on purpose, I realise. He’s forcing me out of my comfort zone to embrace this other side of myself, and here, in the forest, I’m not being watched by anyoneelse. There are no expectations from anybody, it’s just the two of us.

“Stop overthinking,” he snaps, sheathing his dagger and charging me. I don’t have time to think as he moves in a blur, almost too fast for me to see. Jumping to the side, I narrowly avoid his grasping hands before dropping into a crouch and kicking my leg out to instinctively try and trip him. A part of my brain recognises that I’m moving far too fast, but I’m fully focused on the large elf who is bearing down on me. He avoids my leg, but it throws off his momentum. Swinging the dagger towards me again, I leap back and look at my staff. I’m a little closer, thanks to his attack, but not close enough. I may be fast, but looking away costs me precious seconds in which he closes the gap between us, grabbing me and twisting me so my back is against his chest before wrapping his arms around me. I know in a real fight, I would be dead right now, but with Eldrin, it’s not over until he says it’s over. Kicking my leg back, I try to hook it around his or cause him pain to make him drop me, but other than a quiet grunt, it has no effect. I throw my weight, trying to drop to the ground, but that doesn’t work either. Even with full fae strength, I’m never going to be stronger than him. “Use every advantage you have.” His words echo in my mind. Perhaps he’s not talking about strength. Is he talking about…womanly advantages? Blushing, I instantly push that thought aside.

The wind blows through the trees, caressing my skin, and I realise what he was suggesting. Closing my eyes, I make my body go still as I extend my senses once more. Welcoming the forest, I try to make my intentions clear and project what I want to do. At first, I’m not sure if it’s working, nature doesn’t speak to me here like it does in the wood elves’ forest, but when Eldrin grunts, I open my eyes. From the way he’s holding me I can’t see much, however from the corner of my eye, I can see plants crawling along his arms where they restrain his chest. He grunts againand suddenly lets me go. Sprawling to the ground, I crawl to a safe distance and turn around, my eyes wide.

Brambles have burst from the soil and are climbing up his body, holding him in place, the thorns piercing his skin as the vines tighten against him. Blood rolls down his arms from where the sharp barbs cut him, yet he doesn’t cry out, only a low groan escapes him as more plants grow over him.

“Mother above!” I gasp, horrified at the sight. I did this. I know he could break from the plants, but he’s not fighting it, why?

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