Page 199 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“Welcome, Clarissa. Come and find me later, and we will discuss the next steps,” Arne, my new chief, says with a nod of his head before the two of them step away. From what I understand, now that I have been accepted into a tribe, I would be staying with them in their tents, and then once the meet was over, I would travel back to their home. Except that’s not the case here. Another one of the reasons the Golden Hawk Tribe was chosen was because Arne is more flexible with me being able to remain here with my aunt at the meeting place.

Voices suddenly start to fall silent like a wave, and as I look around, I notice Revna is holding a fist in the air, the other chiefs doing the same, and as soon as the tribespeople see the action, they become quiet, their words dying on their lips. Soon, the eyes of the tribes are once again on their high chief. Her face is different this time, fierce, and I know this is the mask of the warrior.

“There is another reason I called you all here.” Her voice is powerful and strong as it travels through the open space, the magic of our ancestors once again amplifying her words. “As you all know, we were recently attacked.” She gazes out over the tribes, taking in the scowling faces. There is a lot of anger overthe attack, and I know it can’t only be Ragnar and his tribe who believe it was my fault that it happened. That attack may have been because of me, but the darkness and evil spreading across the land would have arrived here at some point, regardless of whether or not I was here.

“It was a cowardly attack in our sacred home.” Her voice rises over the hisses and cries of anger that surge from the crowd, and I can feel a simmering rage fill the atmosphere around us. “Theywillattack again.” Her expression is set in a snarl now as she emphasises that another attack is imminent. “Today, you witnessed the return of the lost child, and the message given by the great goddess Shea.” Revna pauses as she glances pointedly at me, and I feel the weight of everyone watching doing the same. The name Shea is one I’ve heard the tribespeople use before, but it’s unfamiliar to me, so I make a mental note to ask Tor about it later as Revna turns to the gathered chiefs. Closing her right hand into a tight fist, she places it over her heart, bowing her head once before turning back to her people. “It is my right as high chief to call together the mountain tribes and unite us as one in times of great need.” The clearing is eerily silent except for her voice and the crackle of the fire, each of her words loud and clear. Watching her speak to her people like this, seeing her strength and passion, I can understand why she was chosen to lead.

“This will be a tough fight,” she continues, and I’m reminded of the dead look in the eyes of the forsaken as they attacked us. How they would just keep going no matter the wounds that were inflicted upon them, unaffected by pain. The only way to stop them was decapitation and burning the remains. Fighting a shudder, I feel a hand on the small of my back as Vaeril shifts at my side, sensing my discomfort. “The enemy is not like us, they seek to wipe us out.” Her voice rises again, and she takes a step forward, the atmosphere changing as the air practically vibrateswith energy. “Will you fight with us? For our freedom and for the goddess?” Her last shouted words are met with loud bellows of agreement as fists and weapons are thrust into the air. She spins to face the chiefs, who each nod in agreement. Several of them also chant their own war cries, grins of brutal excitement clear to see on many faces. When she glances at me, I give my aunt a tight nod. We will fight with her when the war comes, no matter how much I wish otherwise.

Revna raises her fist in the air again and everyone falls silent once more. A grin spreads across her face. “Then tonight, we celebrate.” Whoops of excitement follow her announcement, but quickly die down when she lifts her fist once more. Her grin is still in place, but her eyes are deadly serious. “And tomorrow, we prepare for war.”

The tribespeople know how to throw a party. Mead and wine flow freely as seemingly endless barrels of it are rolled from tents and placed on long wooden tables. Many fires have been lit, although smaller than the sacred fire in the center of the standing stones. As far as I can see, people mingle around the fires, laughing and chatting. It fills me with a warm glowing sensation.

Or that could be the mead. I’ve never tasted anything like it. At first, it made me grimace, the gathered tribespeople laughing at my expression, but I find the taste is growing on me. Like the warm fuzzy feeling that’s spreading through my limbs. On some level, I’m aware this must be what it’s like to be drunk, or at least tipsy. However, as I feel more at ease than I have for the first time that I can remember, I can’t find it in me to care. When I lift the wooden tankard to my lips again, a little sloshes over theedge and dribbles down the side of my lips. Giggling, I wipe it away, aware of several sets of eyes watching me keenly.

“I think that’s enough mead for one night.” Vaeril’s smooth voice cuts through my happy buzz as his cool hand wraps around mine and takes away the tankard.

“No,” I protest, my hands following after the sweet, sweet nectar of the goddess, but he holds it just out of my reach, although I’m not really trying that hard to get it back. There are some light chuckles from the others sitting on the low benches around the fire we’re gathered around, and my cheeks heat a little as I look up. Four benches surround this fire, and directly opposite sits Revna and Arne, who are deep in conversation. I’ve not missed the casual touches between the two of them as the evening has gone on, reinforcing my theory that there may be something between them. Vida and a couple of Tor’s other friends who reside here at the meeting place have joined us, and there is a comfortable atmosphere between us all. Throughout the evening, several people have come up to congratulate me from many different tribes, and at first it had made me uncomfortable, but after having some food and mead in my system, I felt a little looser and more comfortable around my own people. Especially the Golden Hawk Tribe. I need to get to know them after all. I’d gotten to know the wood elves, so how are the tribespeople any different?

“You spoil all my fun,” Naril grumbles from my right, leaning across me to scowl playfully at Vaeril before handing me his own tankard with a grin. “Here you go, chosen one.”

He’s taken to calling me that since the goddess used me as her vessel today, and he may be a dick, but right now, with alcohol warming my veins, I’ll let him get away with it. “Oh,” I hum appreciatively, cradling it between my hands. Turning to face my mate, I take in his amused frustration and give him a smile. “A little mead never hurt anyone.”

“He said no more.” Eldrin’s voice comes out of nowhere as he stalks over, plucks the tankard from my hands, and shoves it towards Naril with such force that he’s pushed from the bench. Naril barks out a protest, but his brother pays him no mind as he stares at me with a deep frown.

“Eldrin.” Vaeril’s tone holds a warning as the elf continues to stare down at me. Then, finally, when I feel like I’m going to combust if he keeps looking at me like that, Eldrin turns away without another word.

What in the Mother was that about? He nearly misses the ceremony, then he shows up only to disappear, and I don’t see him all day. When he does finally decide to show his face, he dictates what I can and can’t drink?My thoughts are a mess as I watch him stalk away. The tribespeople move out of his way, almost like they know he’s dangerous. These people are some of the most deadly in Morrowmer, yet even they have the sense to avoid Eldrin.Anger ignites inside me, hurt and alcohol fuelling my actions.Pushing up from the bench and ignoring the sigh from Naril behind me, I stumble after the elf.

“Eldrin,” I call out as I hurry after him. His shoulders stiffen as I speak, so I know he heard me, but he doesn’t stop. With his supernatural speed, he could easily lose me if he didn’t want me to catch up to him, so I know on some level, he doesn’t mind my company. “No, wait, I want to talk to you!” I plead, and he must hear the note of hurt in my voice because he stops. He doesn’t slow down to a stop, he literally just stops, and because I’d been hurrying to catch up, I slam into his chest as he turns around.

His hands reach up to steady me, grabbing my shoulders and holding me in place. “What?” he demands.

“Are you okay?” My eyes run over his face. His frown mars his brow once again, making his scar on the right side of his face look all the more severe, and he appears tense and stressed, but my question makes him take a step back. “What?”

There’s a pause as he runs his gaze over me. I miss the feeling of his hands on me, and now that we’re away from the fires and the sun is setting, the ceremonial cloak is not quite enough to ward off the chill of the evening. I hadn’t realised how far out we’d moved away from the others, but it’s quieter out here, with only a couple of fires. I can hear him much clearer, and there are not as many people to overhear us, so I know we can speak freely. If he will actually speak to me that is. Time ticks by, and I rub my hands over my exposed arms, his eyes tracking my movements.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that,” he finally replies, his head tilting to one side as if he’s reassessing me.

Raising my eyebrows, I throw my arms out in a ‘what?’ gesture. “What were you expecting me to say?” I query, but then I start laughing at his expression as a sneaky suspicion dawns on me. “You were expecting me to tell you off.” His face confirms I was right, and I start chuckling again, rubbing at my arms to try and warm myself up.I thought alcohol was supposed to keep you warm?my inner thoughts grumble before I point at the elf again. “Well, you were an ass.”

Eldrin snorts a chuckle, and the next thing I know, I’m in his arms as he brushes his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm me. He needn’t have bothered, as soon as he touched me, my body felt like it was on fire, not that I’ll tell him that, in case he takes away the delicious heat of his body. “I’m trying to decide if I like drunk Clarissa or not,” he grouses like it’s a hardship, but I know otherwise, hearing the slight note of fondness in his voice.

“I’m not drunk.”Much, I think to myself as I nuzzle into the warmth of his chest, waving off his statement and pretending not to feel his body freeze at the contact. “Answer the question.”

“Why do you care?” His tone makes me pull away and look up at his face. He’s not frowning for once, and his expressionis open and raw, like the answer to the question could have repercussions. This is definitely not an inquiry for me to be answering now, which is probably exactly why he’s asking. If I mess this up… Instead, I arch a single eyebrow, letting him know simply with my expression that I won’t be answering any questions until he’s answered mine.

Sighing, he rolls his eyes and concedes with a nod, but I know I won’t be let off for long. “I’m fine,” he starts, and I’m about to protest, thinking he’s trying to get away with that as his answer, but he growls low in his throat when I open my mouth to speak. “It’s a lot to take in. I don’t know where my place is here.” He lets go of me now, and I don’t protest, feeling plenty warm enough as he continues.

“You have your mates, even Naril has his place as your adviser. I am nothing to you.”

Pain cuts through me at his words. I hate that he feels this way, that he believes this about himself, and I know the elf queen partially has to do with that. She treated him like dirt and made him feel like he was worth nothing to her because he was scarred. Never mind that he earned those scars trying to protect his people in a missionshesent him on. He was tortured, and she did nothing to help him. When he finally returned, he was deemed unworthy of a place at her side because anything less than perfection is seen as a weakness to the elf queen. The familiar anger bubbles through my veins again, and my hands clench into fists at my side. Is he only telling me this because he thinks I’m drunk? That my inhibitions are lowered, and I’ll tell him the truth? I don’t know, but I’m glad he’s finally sharing his pain with me, even if it hurts to hear it. It makes sense now why he’s been acting the way he has, why he’s been separating and isolating himself from the others, but he can never seem to stay away for long. I want to ask why, but I’m afraid of the answer.

“That’s not true,” I retort, my eyes meeting his. Eldrin has never been nothing to me. There has always been somethingthere between us, even at the beginning when I thought he was arrogant, but I have no idea how to qualify what any of this is. It’s nothing like the connection I have with my mates, but for some reason, I can’t stay away from him and he’s never far from my thoughts, even though half of the time I want to throttle him. It’s intense and my emotions are heightened around him. My mates all seem to bring out a side of me that makes me better, that makes me more, whereas Eldrin… The good, the bad, and the ugly, all of my emotions are exposed around him, so much so that it can be hard to be around him sometimes.

He’s watching me closely as all of this goes through my mind. Like he’s reading my thoughts, he nods his head slightly. “Thenyouanswer my question.” He closes the distance between us again with that supernatural speed, catching me off guard as he stares down at me. “Why do you care if I’m okay?” His voice is harsh, his breathing heavy like he’s just run a long distance, his golden eyes narrowed on me.

Heart hammering in my chest, I realise how close we are, how close we are to crossing a line. “I don’t know.” My words are a whisper as I don’t trust my voice not to break. I can’t give him the answer he wants, and I’m scared he’s going to leave, that he’ll go and it’ll be because of me. “I know I shouldn’t care,” I continue, my voice raspy, his eyes still locked on me like a lion watching his prey, and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. I shouldn’t care, not like this, not when I have fated mates. “But I do.” Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself for his rejection.

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