Page 183 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

My eyes widen, and I suddenly understand why he looks so exhausted. The magicians have always followed the Kings of Arhaven and fought for our people against the elves on the battlefield. They have been the only thing that has stopped thehumans from being wiped out by the elves, their magic holding them back. To have made that decision…

“But the people…” I whisper, a deep sadness tearing through me at the thought of what this will mean, the gravity of this decision…and I’m at the root of it all. I may not have been the reason the magicians pulled their assistance away from the king, but I was the catalyst. “They will be slaughtered—” I protest, but I’m cut off by Grayson shaking his head.

“The high mages have erected a magical wall around the human lands and are continually monitoring it. It will keep the elves out, so the humans will be safe,” he informs me, disapproval lining his tone as he frowns at me. “We wouldn’t leave our people defenceless, even if we didn’t follow their king, Clarissa.”

Rebuked, I nod my head in acceptance. I never should have doubted that Grayson would leave innocents in danger, but is that a slight accusation in his words? No, he just told me that he believes I was kidnapped by Vaeril, that he’s putting all of the blame on the elf. Or is that just what he wants to believe? There’s a tightness around his eyes that suggests I may be right, and a vice constricts around my heart at that thought, that he might feel that way about me, that I abandoned my people. He’s right though, I did. When I had my opportunity, I escaped with Vaeril, leaving everyone else behind. But I’m not like Grayson, I wasn’t a high magician or someone in a position of power, I was just a woman who was desperate for a normal life.

He’s still waiting for my response, and I can feel the weight of the guys’ eyes from behind the magical barrier. The atmosphere is tense, and I know that if I make the wrong move, say the wrong thing, I could ruin things with Grayson permanently, and I’m not sure I could survive that. “I didn’t kill anyone,” I promise, keeping my eyes locked with his so he can read my honesty. His shoulders relax, and his eyes close in relief as mywords sink in, and I know he thinks he was right. “But,” I start, and he frowns, his body instantly stiffening at the tension in my voice, “I did help Vaeril escape. I wasn’t forced, I did it on purpose.” Silence greets my admission as he stares at me. “We escaped together.”

He stares at me like he’s never seen me before, like he’s staring at a stranger, and it hurts in a way I’ve never felt before. But I’m not going to beg for forgiveness. I don’t regret my decision, I just wish the circumstances had been different. The king was going to kill me, and I believe that was my only chance to escape.

Grayson takes a step back from me, a pained look crossing his face. “You let the elf escape?” he asks with disbelief, and his magic seems to shimmer around him. “Our enemy?” The more frustrated he gets, the more his magic reacts, and I can hear the elves behind the barrier responding, but I don’t take my eyes from Grayson.

“Yes. We are not all that different,” I reason, trying to keep my voice calm and even, wishing he knew them like I did, but years of hatred make people blind.

“They kill our people, Clarissa!” Grayson roars, taking a menacing step towards me, his magic flaring out with his temper, so unlike the mage that rescued me at Arhaven. His magic doesn’t touch me, and I know he’s not angry at me. This is his frustration and hatred of the elves, but Vaeril doesn’t know that. Thanks to the bond, I feel the moment he loses the battle with his protective mate instincts, and it snaps something within me.

“And you kill theirs!” I shout back, losing my temper. I snarl up at him, his face so close to mine I could reach up and kiss him, except right now, that’s the last thing I want to do. Grayson looks like he’s torn between kissing me and yelling at me some more too, so I take a deep breath, step back, and put some spacebetween us. I turn to face Vaeril, who is crouched in front of the magical shield, watching Grayson with his teeth bared, his pupils wholly black. Every trace of my mate is gone, taken over by the protective bond and the instinctive need to defend me at all costs. The barrier that separates us must have set it off when he saw Grayson lose his temper, stripping away all his reasoning and leaving only his base needs. His black eyes flick to me, and a low purr rumbles in his throat as I walk towards the barrier.

I feel Grayson’s heavy gaze on me the whole time, and when I turn to face him again, he’s already shaking his head like he knows what’s coming. “He helped me, Grayson. A slave, a nobody. His enemy. He helped me, and he tried to give me a home.”

“No.”

“Grayson…” I say with a sigh. He’s striding towards me now, holding his hands up as if he can stop what I’m going to say, as if it will make it less true. “He’s my mate.”

“No!” he shouts. The betrayed way he looks at me is like a physical blow. I always knew this would be tough, but this is ten times worse than I thought it would be. Turning away from me, he raises his hands to his head as if he can’t bear to look at me, and I feel his pain through our connection. I get the feeling that had I slept with Tor and completed the bond with him, that this would be easier for him to accept, but because I mated with anelf, I’ve done the worst thing in his eyes.

He turns to me, his face hardened. “You slept with him?” Every word he speaks seems to wound him, but I owe him the truth, and I won’t be ashamed of it. “What about me, Clarissa? What about me?”

Ouch. Closing my eyes, I have to take a deep breath, my eyes stinging with tears I refuse to let fall. Grayson’s pain hits me, tightening around me like a vice. “Grayson, I have a connectionwith all of you. How was I supposed to choose?” My voice breaks, betraying my distress.

“Me, you were supposed to choose me.” He speaks like it’s only the two of us in the whole world, his pain bared for me to see, wounds and all. I swear I can see wetness glittering on his cheeks, but in the next moment it’s gone, and he’s speaking again, moving towards me. “The goddess brought you to me.” He sounds so confused. He trusts in the Great Mother and her plan for him so much, but can’t comprehend that her plan for us is so much bigger than that.

Closing the distance between us, I stop just before him, fighting the urge to reach out and take his hand. “She also brought me to Vaeril and Tor. I can’t choose,” I explain, my tone apologetic. “I’m sorry, I truly am. I tried not to. I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

Grayson glances over my shoulder at Tor before looking back at me with a resigned expression. “The tribesman too?”

When I nod, he lets out a pent-up breath through clenched teeth. “I know this is the Great Mother’s doing, but this hurts.” He needn’t have said anything, his expression says how much pain this is causing him. “I don’t know if I can do this. Sharing you…with anelf…” His eyes darken, and his magic flares again as he puts emphasis on that last word.

“The feeling is mutual,mage,” Vaeril growls out from behind the barrier, and I have to hold back my groan. He must be working his way through the pull of the instinct to protect if he’s able to goad the magician, but when I glance over, I see his eyes are still black, and although he’s standing, he still looks more feral than the Vaeril I know. Naril is standing just behind him, watching Grayson with his teeth bared, but he seems much more in control.

Grayson goes to take a step towards the elves, who hiss in response, and Vaeril falls into a crouch again. “I could kill you with a snap of my fingers,” the mage sneers.

Watching the guys with wide eyes, I shake my head before stepping between them, holding my hands up to get their attention off each other and back on me. “Guys! Please, stop!” I shout, allowing the pain of this whole encounter to enter my voice. “If you hurt each other, you hurt me.” It’s as simple as that, and I hope they understand it. If they choose to continue to try and attack each other, then they care more about their hatred for one another than they do for me.

Grayson lets out a pained noise, throwing his head back and looking up at the sky, a prayer to the Mother on his lips. Naril’s low voice reaches me, and I know he’s talking Vaeril down from his instinctive need to attack the magician, to protect me. Violence is the last thing we need right now.

Finally lowering his gaze from the tree canopy that blocks out most of the sky, Grayson shakes his head. “This isn’t going to work, Clarissa. I can never share you with an elf.” His words are final, like he expects me to accept that and make a choice.

A sense of calm settles over me as I nod once, even though a piece of me feels like it’s breaking. “Then you will never be able to be with me.” If that’s the way he feels, then it’s as simple as that, and I will leave the choice up to him. He knows where I stand, and I won’t choose.

Grayson obviously didn’t expect that reaction, and panic overtakes his face as he takes a step towards me. “Clarissa, don’t say that.” Realising what he’s about to lose, he frowns as he tries to backtrack. “Maybe we can work something—”

“No, Grayson,” I interject, my sharp tone cutting off whatever he was about to say. “Your hatred for them is what will keep us apart.” My voice breaks with my heart, and a single tear rolls down my cheek.

His face contorts as he reaches out, cupping my face gently. “Clarissa—”

“I learned more about my past, my heritage.” I’m whispering now as I look up at him, and I know he’s wondering why the tears are still rolling down my face, why this is relevant.I’m ready. It doesn’t matter if he reacts badly to this. I’m still me. This doesn’t change who I am, we just know more about where I came from.I brace myself for the fallout that’s inevitably about to happen. “I’m part elf.”

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