Page 184 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

His thumb, which had been stroking my cheek, stops moving, and I close my eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. “What?” His voice sounds more shocked than angry.

There’s still plenty of time for him to get angry,I chide, and I take a deep breath, using his silence to explain what I know. “My grandfather was a wood elf. He believed that humans and elves should live in peace, that the goddess, the Great Mother, wanted us to live together. So he left the elves and fell in love with a human,” I tell him in a rush. “He had a son, my father.” There’s a long pause, and I can’t keep my eyes closed any longer. I need to see his expression, I need to see if he’s looking at me with the same hate and disgust that enters his face when he looks at Vaeril.

Except all I see is a great sadness. That vice around my chest tightens a little more, but I can’t seem to stop talking. I have to know. “Do you hate me, knowing that I’m part elf? That one of my relatives was from the race you long to kill?” Another tear rolls down my cheek, but this time, he doesn’t wipe it away with his thumb, the droplet trailing along my skin as I stare up into his torn gaze.

His silence says everything, and I can’t do it any longer. I can’t stand here with him looking at me like he’s about to lose me. With a deep, choked breath, I pull away, unable to hold back my sob. A hand grips my arm, stopping me.

“No. No, Clarissa. I could never hate you,” Grayson rushes out, pulling me into his embrace. I immediately bury my face into his robes as his arms wrap tightly around me, not realising how badly I needed to hear those words. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my chest as I take a huge, gasping breath, inhaling his scent as he rubs calming circles on my back. Resting his chin on the top of my head, he breathes deeply, and I’m sure he’s doing the same thing I am—breathing like I can inhale him, wrapping myself in his aura, and remembering the steady feel of him against me. I’m not sure when I closed my eyes, but the darkness is comforting with his scent surrounding me. Reaching out to that place where the bonds dwell within me, I touch the connection between us. Grayson hums low in his throat, pulling me closer, and I can’t hide my smile.

Unfortunately, Vaeril must see it too, because he starts snarling again and bangs a fist against the magical barrier. Groaning, I pull away from the mage and see he’s scowling at the elf. “I may not hate you, butheis a different matter,” he says, glaring at Vaeril.

Placing a hand on Grayson’s arm, I wait until he looks away from the elves and down at me. “He’s my mate, and he saved me.” My tone is stern. I won’t have the two of them attacking each other. “Can you live with that?” Softening my voice, I try to push away the anxiety that’s trying to escape right now. I know I’m asking a lot from Grayson, and I refuse to take the choice away from him. I still don’t know how much of this is my choice and what is goddess willed, but Tor and Vaeril are in my future. If he wants to be part of that future, there is space for Grayson too.

Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long for an answer as Grayson gives me a slow nod, his eyes solemn.

“Can you let us out now?” Tor calls out, his tone light, but I can hear the slight note in his voice that gives away the tensionhe’s feeling. Of the three of them behind the barrier, he looks the calmest, but I’d bet that if it came to a fight, he’s the strongest. You don’t want to anger one of the mountain tribesmen.

Grayson makes an unhappy noise in the back of his throat. I know this is not how he hoped this encounter would go. Reaching over, I take hold of his hand and give it a squeeze, nodding my head with a slight smile. He returns it slightly, then he lets go and moves closer to the barrier, frowning at the elves on the other side. With a frustrated sigh and shake of his head, Grayson raises his hands and, with a small flick of his wrists, releases the magical barrier.

The sound of breaking glass fills the space around us, and the horses that had previously been busy grazing on the grass rear up and gallop off into the trees. Eyes wide, I look around, almost expecting glass to fall from the sky, but of course there’s nothing there, only the sense of magic being reabsorbed by Grayson. Tor and the elves are crouched and also looking around as if expecting glass to fall on them, their arms raised to protect themselves and confusion on their faces when they see nothing.

Turning to Grayson, I cross my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow. He did that on purpose. I know I’m right from the little smirk he’s trying to hide, although it soon vanishes when Vaeril appears in front of me using his fae speed. Over the elf’s shoulder, I can see Grayson’s expression darkening, but he doesn’t say anything, just watches the two of us closely.

Vaeril rests his hands on my cheeks, and I bring my attention back to him. His brow is pulled into a severe scowl, and his eyes are still pretty black, but I notice he’s regaining control. Holding me at arm’s length, he examines me as if looking for any injuries. He was able to see me the entire time we were separated, but that doesn’t seem to matter. “Are you okay?” His voice is tense. Tor is somewhere just to the side, but I know better than to try to look at another male while Vaeril is gripped by the mating bond.

“Vaeril, I’m fine,” I insist, grasping his wrists with my hands and pulling them down from my face so I can tug him closer to me. Leaning forward, I place a slow, gentle kiss against his lips. He wants more, but it’s enough to satisfy the bond. Anything more than that would be cruel with Grayson watching. Pulling back, I look carefully at Vaeril’s face, frowning at the tension there. “Are you okay?”

Nodding once, he gives me a tight smile. “I just need physical contact.” He steps back so I can see the others, staying by my side. He keeps his hand on the small of my back, but gives me enough space so I don’t feel crowded. Naril walks over with his usual swagger, but I notice his eyes running over me as if checking for injury as well. Pretending not to notice, I glance over at Tor while Naril takes up position behind me.

Tor steps forward, but he surprises me by walking towards Grayson instead of coming over to us. Stopping just a few feet from the magician, the tribesman scowls. For a few moments he doesn’t say anything, just stares at the mage, and it reminds me how intimidating Tor can be, based just on size and looks alone. To Grayson’s credit, he doesn’t shy away, just calmly meets his gaze, but I can feel the magic he’s gathering just in case. “You have been bonded to Clarissa for a reason, so I won’t kill you for how you just treated her.” His accented voice is smooth and matter of fact. Tilting his head to one side, he hovers his hand over the axe that’s strapped to his waist. “But if youeverhurt her like that again, or even so much as raise your voice to her, I will cut your balls off and offer them as a sacrifice to Holume.”

Something must be broken inside me, because something about his threat sends a thrill surging through my veins. Not at the idea of Grayson being hurt, but Tor trying to protect my honour. There is an allure that stokes arousal to life within me.

Vaeril snorts at my side, reluctantly pulling my attention away from Tor and Grayson. “Suddenly, the tribesman doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Clarissa, if you don’t want him, I’ll have him.” Naril hums in agreement behind me, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“Are we understood?” Tor prompts, drawing our attention back to the two of them. However, when I look over, I’m surprised to see Grayson isn’t looking at Tor anymore, he’s watching me.

With a look I can’t identify, he nods before bringing his gaze back at the tribesman. “I understand.”

The atmosphere instantly seems to relax, and breathing becomes easier once again. I’m still a little uneasy, like I’m waiting for Grayson to change his mind and try to take me away again, but at least things feel more certain for the moment. This is the first time I’ve been together with all of my mates in one place, and there is something that feels inherently rightabout that, like we are all meant to be here.

Squeezing Vaeril’s hand, I start walking over to Tor and Grayson with him following by my side, Naril close behind us. Grayson eyes the two elves uneasily, and I see his fingers twitching as if he’s having to stop himself from casting spells. Vaeril is stoic, but Naril is grinning at the magician, flashing his teeth as he tries to goad him.

Glaring at the elf, I turn back to Grayson with an awkward smile. “Ignore him, that’s what I do most of the time.”

With one last frown in Naril’s direction, Grayson turns from the elf and looks at me once again. “Where do we go from here?” he asks, glancing at my companions, the packs on their backs, and the hoof prints in the earth. “You’re not going to come with me, are you?” He sounds resigned as he asks, like he knows the answer already, and when I meet his gaze, I see he’s smiling slightly.

Shaking my head, I feel my heart constrict tightly in my chest. He’s just found me, and now he’s going to leave again. “We’re going to Tor’s tribe. He thinks my aunt lives with one of the tribes,” I explain, unable to keep the sadness out of my voice.

“Your aunt? That’s great news.” His smile is bright and genuine. “I wish I could come with you.” That hint of regret is in his voice again, and I know I shouldn’t ask him, he’s got an important job to do. He has to protect the humans and help the guild at the keep, so it would be selfish to ask him to stay.

Plus, he’s right, I should be excited, but all I feel is sadness that he’s leaving again. “You can’t come with us, can you?”

“No, I have to return to the guild. They need me there. We’ve pulled all our magicians from the battlefield, so my guidance is needed,” he replies apologetically, and I know he feels pulled in two directions—to stay with the girl he has a connection with, or help protect his country. I need to do the right thing and let him go back.

Instead, when I open my mouth to speak, what comes out is different. “But you left to find me.” It must have cost him greatly to leave his fellow magicians amidst a crisis, but I know he would have waited until the magical barrier was up first. His moral compass wouldn’t have allowed him to leave until then. Except I know Grayson. Every moment he’s away will feel like a betrayal, and he did that for me, to make sure I was safe.

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