Until I stumble again.
“I suppose magic would be helpful right about now, wouldn’t it?”
A rage so fierce runs through me that later, when I think back on this, I will be fearful that an emotion so strong and so wrathful came from me. My body goes completely still, my hands ball into fists, and I swear the mountain rumbles beneath me. “Right,” I snarl, spinning to face him. Before I know it, I’m somehow right in front of him, his eyes wide with my face inches from his. “I’ve had enough of your comments,” I spit, my teethbared as I grab the collar of his jacket and throw him to the ground. It briefly flashes through the back of my mind that this is too easy, that I must have caught him off guard to have been able to throw an elf to the mountainside, but my instincts are in control right now. I pin him to the ground, kneeling on his wrists. Realistically, I shouldn’t be able to keep him here. I’m lighter than him, and he has centuries of training over me, but my wrist is glowing purple and the air shimmers with the tang of magic, a strange magic unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Naril struggles against me, but I don’t move an inch. Tor’s laughter echoes around the mountains, making me smile. It’s a feral, vicious kind of smile, and it makes Naril look nervous.Good. He turns his head and looks over at Vaeril for help.
“Don’t look at me,” Vaeril replies, and his tone catches my attention. When I glance over, I see that he’s walking towards us, running his eyes over me with a possessive smile. “My strong mate,” he purrs, sparking desire within me and pushing some of that rage down, giving me more control over my actions once again.
“I did warn you,” Tor calls, and it’s obvious he’s finding this whole thing amusing.
“Look at me,” I growl, shaking the elf beneath me. He winces, but I’m sure it’s just because I’m embarrassing him. I couldn’t have actually hurt him, I’m not strong enough.Am I?Pushing that thought away, I lower my face so I’m almost nose to nose with Naril. “Why are you here?” Each word is said through clenched teeth.
Confusion crosses his face. “What do you mean?”
I don’t blame him, we’ve had this conversation before, but apparently, we need to have it again. “Why?” I demand, but I’m losing my anger now as hurt takes its place. Trying to grab hold of that rage, I focus on every foul thing he’s ever said to me because it’s easier to get through this if I’m angry. If I let myemotions take control, then I’ll fall apart. “Why did you promise to follow me if you’re going to berate me at every step?”
“Because I’m jealous,” he shouts, making me sit back in surprise, my anger suddenly vanishing. Naril sits up and shuffles back a bit, watching me with a sheepish expression. It’s not a look I’ve ever seen on his face before, and it’s enough to take me aback. “I’m sorry, Clarissa.” If I wasn’t already sitting down, these words would have knocked me on my backside. I assumed he was worried about Eldrin and that was why he’d been getting progressively snappier, and perhaps that had contributed to it, but jealousy… That’s when it hits me. Vaeril was missing for over a hundred years, then when Naril finally gets him back, I come along as his mate.
“Vaeril will always be your friend, I will never take him from you,” I promise sincerely, as I press my palms to my chest.
Naril smiles half-heartedly and waves a hand at me. “Not him, you can have him.”
Thoroughly confused, I glance over at Vaeril to see if he has any idea what his friend is talking about, but he appears just as perplexed as I do. Tor is just watching with an amused expression. “Then who?” Naril stares at me like he thinks I’m the stupidest person alive. A couple of seconds pass until a thought flashes into my mind.No. That can’t be right,I chide myself, but the slight nod from Naril tells me I’m right. “Grayson?” I shout. Vaeril splutters something in elvish behind me, and Tor starts bellowing in laughter again. Ignoring them both, I lean forward so I can hear him better. “You’re jealous of the magician? But you hate magicians!”
“I know!” He throws his hands up in the air in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “It’s a confusing dilemma.” I notice that he avoids looking at Vaeril as he speaks, and I know he’s feeling a certain amount of shame at having feelings for someone he’s supposed to hate. That I can understand. I guess there really is a fine linebetween love and hate. “Something about having all that power between your thighs…it’s making me cranky.” He tries to lighten the mood, and I smile at his attempt.
“If it makes you feel any better, I know several magicians I can introduce you to,” I start, his eyes lighting up, but I pause as I remember the war our races are engaging in. “I mean, they may want to kill you, but…” I shrug, recalling what Grayson said about the magicians pulling their mages from the front lines. Perhaps change is on the horizon.
“I like a challenge.” His eyes are bright, and I can’t hold back my laugh, imagining the magicians I know while Naril stalks them like prey.
“Are you two okay now? Can we continue?” Tor asks, his tattooed arms folded across his chest as he smirks down at us. Glancing at the elf, we both laugh and push to our feet. We can’t afford to sit around for long, we still have a long journey ahead of us, but I feel like a weight has been lifted off of me as we climb.
It takes days to get through the mountains, and although it’s much colder up here and hard work navigating the uneven terrain, it’s breathtakingly beautiful. Some areas we have to get off the horses and walk alongside them, carefully picking through rocks, but mostly we’re able to ride, pitching our tents each evening. I sleep alone each night, despite the hot looks I receive from both Vaeril and Tor.
We’ve been riding for several hours, the sun is high in the sky, and I’m watching a golden hawk that’s been following us for the last hour or so. It’s a beautiful bird, the sun glinting off the distinctive gold colouring at the edges of its feathers as it uses the thermals to glide alongside us.
“Clarissa,” Tor calls, his voice low and uncharacteristically serious as he pulls his horse up beside mine. I glance over and my smile drops. Something tightens inside me when I see his expression. “We’ll be arriving at the meeting place soon.”
“The meeting place?” I question, confused at the emphasis he puts on ‘meeting place,’ like it’s a title rather than a place to meet.
Taking pity on me, he smiles slightly, but it’s tight. “It’s where all the tribes gather to discuss business. Our leader, a group of her advisers, and her followers live there and maintain our sacred stone, where our religious rules are kept,” he explains, his gaze going distant for a moment as he talks of his people. “They are the only tribe that doesn’t wander like the rest of us, but they have a greater purpose.” Taking a deep breath, he glances over at me again, but he looks worried, like he’s not sure how I’m going to take what he’s going to say next.
“Remember how I said that I took a magical oath?” He is almost pleading for understanding, so I nod my head, showing that I remember, but he’s making me nervous. “Just know I couldn’t tell you what you’re about to learn, no matter how much I wanted to. Besides, until we arrive, I’m not even a hundred percent sure that I’m right about my suspicions anyway.” He believes that about as much as I do.
Leaning back in my saddle, I run my eyes over him, taking in the change in his appearance. The whole journey, Tor has been his usual confident, charming self, but now he seems edgy and distant. “You’re making me nervous, Tor.”
Growling low in his throat, he runs a hand through his hair, avoiding my gaze as he faces forward. “If I’m right, then you’re about to find your family.” Why doesn’t he seem happy about that? This has been something he’s been encouraging me to do, saying I should follow him to his people, that I would be welcome here. So why does he seem so different now?
“I don’t understand.” Staring at his profile, I grit my teeth when he refuses to look at me. I know he can feel my eyes on him because his jaw tightens as I watch. Clenching my hands around the reins, I breathe out slowly to stop myself from throwing something at him. Vaeril and Naril are riding just behind us, and I can feel their curious gazes on us, but they stay just far enough back that they’re not actively involved in the conversation. I glance over my shoulder, and Naril quickly looks away, pretending he wasn’t listening in, but my mate just tilts his head slightly to one side as if asking a question.Are you okay?I don’t hear the words, but I feel them in that place where the bonds reside. That’s what I like about Vaeril. He doesn’t sugar-coat anything, no false smiles or honeyed words.
My lips twitch up into an imitation of a smile, and I nod my head slightly, turning back to the tribesman, who’s now watching me with a frown.
I sigh, and my expression settles into a frown of my own. “Why are you acting so…different?”
Making a noise of frustration, he rubs one of his tattooed hands over his face. This is really un-Tor-like behaviour, so whatever is bugging him must be something big. Sitting upright in his saddle, he pulls at the reins, slowing his horse to a stop before holding up his hand to signal those behind us to do the same. The smell of smoke is in the air now, and if I listen closely, I can hear the sound of people, so we must be nearby. I haven’t seen anyone, but we entered a valley a little while ago and have been following a freshwater spring. I have to admit this would be a good place to establish a permanent base. It’s sheltered, hidden, and has a good water source, and I’ve seen evidence of plenty of animals around.
Vaeril and Naril bring their horses over so we are all gathered together, and as one, we turn to Tor, awaiting instruction. After all, he’s the expert here. His eyes run over our group, but whenthey land on me, that’s where they stay. “When we arrive, I will have to act in a different way than how you know me, and I apologise for that in advance.” He winces as he speaks. To a certain extent, I understand. I’ve seen the same happen with Vaeril. People change when they’re around their peers, but this is a completely different environment for me. In Arhaven, they used to whisper about the mountain tribes and their customs and brutal ways. I have no idea how much of that was rumour or truth, but I suppose I’m about to find out. Tor’s eyes flit over my face as if sensing my anxiety. “I worry that once you learn the truth, you won’t want to be bonded to me.”