Page 237 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

Biting back my disappointment at not getting to see her, I settle for running my eyes over my friend one last time. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it tightly. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Wilson pauses, his thumb rubbing over the back of my hand as he frowns and drops his gaze. Whatever he wants to say is causing him some distress.Finally, he sighs, and when he raises his eyes once more, his gaze is timid. “Can you tell Grayson I’m okay and that I’m sorry?”

My heart constricts tightly. Grayson was Wilson’s mentor, but also one of his closest friends. I know Grayson has been really worried about his friend since he failed to return to the guild, so he’s going to be disappointed when he learns that the young mage chose not to come with us. However, he will understand the reasons behind it, and I’m sure he will be proud of his friend.

Taking a deep breath to push back the tears that threaten to fall, I nod my head, agreeing to pass on his message. I turn to leave but pause with one last request on my lips. “Will you do me one last favour?” He arches an eyebrow as if to say ‘of course,’ but I hesitate, almost not wanting to ask. This could put him at risk, yet I can’t seem to stop myself from asking anyway. “Help the slaves?”

Concern and frustration cross his features. “Most of the slaves have gone.”

What?His statement takes me aback, but now that I think over it, I don’t remember seeing any slaves lining the corridors in the castle or walking the courtyards like they did before.

“After the culling, many risked death rather than give up their children,” he explains, reminding me of the rule the king put in place after he ordered the deaths of all the previous slaves. Everyone who had a child under the age of twenty had to give that child up into slavery.

“Those they did take went to the castle and haven’t been seen since. You didn’t see them while you were there?” Wilson inquires, his concern turning into sharp interest. I shake my head, and he hums in consideration. “Hmm, I’ll look into it,” he promises.

We hug tightly, and following the pull in my chest, I round the corner and hunt down my mates. It doesn’t take me long tofind Tor—Wilson had practically led me to him—but I am aware of a watchful pair of eyes following me until I’m wrapped in Tor’s strong arms.

Three Weeks Later

As I carry the bucket of water back through the camp, I feel their eyes on me, but I don’t react. Instead, I keep my head high and try to keep my movements fluid so as not to jerk my back. The last thing I need is to have a spasm in front of everyone again.

Reaching the tent where the cook is getting everything ready for supper, I push through the entrance to find her with her back to me, leaning over a large pot. Her assistants glance up from their jobs of peeling and chopping vegetables, freezing when they realise who I am.

“Don’t stop!” Cook yells, looking up from her pot at the startled assistants. “We’re too busy for you to—Oh, good!” Realising someone else has entered the tent, she spins around, brandishing her wooden spoon at me. “About time, if you just put it over…” Her eyes go from the bucket in my hands up tomy face, then my cloak, clearly marking me for who I am as she trails off, her skin going pale with horror.

“Apologies for the tardiness,” I respond with a twitch of my lips before placing the pail near the assistants, who are still watching with their mouths open.

No one was free when the cook requested more water, and the steward hadn’t wanted to ask me. In fact, they didn’t ask me at all. I overheard and took it upon myself. I hadn’t been busy, and I wanted to help. I’m tired of being treated like an invalid.

Straightening with a wince, I turn to the cook, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under their stares. “Do you need anything else? I can help chop…” I don’t even bother to finish my sentence. The cook is shaking her head so vigorously, she’s sure to give herself a headache.

“No, please don’t inconvenience yourself, beloved. Thank you for the water, but please, just rest. Let us do the work for you.”

Fighting back my disappointment, I force my lips to twitch up into a semblance of a smile, dipping my head in acknowledgement. I turn on my heel and leave the tent, weaving my way through the campfires, needing to escape into the peace of the forest.

I’ve been getting a lot of looks since we returned from Arhaven. The guards who defected to our side hero worship me, telling battle tales around the campfires, and soon enough, the others who were there joined in. Stories of me turning my enemies to ash with a single touch started to circulate amongst the camp. Of me facing off against the king and rising up against him, promising retribution for everything he’s done to me and the slaves. Of epic magical battles with the evil prince, where I sacrificed myself to save everyone else, earning a terrible wound in the process.

Everyone has been treating me differently, even the chiefs from the tribes. Most people regard me with wide eyes and reverence, and after one evening where my back spasmed at supper, causing me to fall to the ground and writhe in pain, some look at me with pity. I hate it. I also haven’t missed the scared, hushed whispers by some who have asked how I’m supposed to fight against the elf queen if I am injured so badly. Those people have been quickly hushed by a growl from one of my mates, but it’s usually too late, I’ve heard them—and they’re right.

I slink into the forest at the edge of our camp. Darkness surrounds me as I venture deeper, the sounds and stress of the camp fading away as I immerse myself in nature. My inner wood elf feels at home in the forest, and I let out a deep breath, my shoulders dropping as I relax. Expanding my awareness, I smile as the forest welcomes me, its gentle hum of collective consciousness greeting me, flowers blooming in my wake.

“They don’t want your help. You make them feel uncomfortable.” Eldrin’s low voice comes from behind one of the large trees, making me pause. Of course he heard, and of course he knew where I’d escape to. Frowning, I cross my arms and round the tree, finding him leaning against the trunk and staring out into the dark. Sensing my glare, he rolls his head to the side, locking eyes with me. “You’ve done enough, let them do something for you.”

Anger flares to life within me. I storm away, knowing I’m probably acting like a petulant child, but he’s so wrong. “I’m not doinganything,” I shout over my shoulder as I march through the trees. I don’t know where I’m going, and I don’t care. Eldrin is following several paces behind, giving me space to rage, but his instincts demand he keeps me in sight.

Since we returned, no one has let me do anything. My injury is healing slowly with the help of a concoction from one of the sea elf healers and some gentle training. Healer Loro and MageSamson think that, over time, I should return to full strength, but the dark, inky scar will remain on my skin. My body is already covered in scars, and one more doesn’t change who I am, but every time one of my mates sees it… Let’s just say it’s made getting intimate difficult. They are treating me like china, afraid I’ll break, and it’s driving me insane.

The farther I walk, the more my thoughts spin and the hotter my anger becomes. Finally, I turn around and snarl when I find my elf much closer than I expected. From the corner of my eye, I recognise the flowers that trailed in my wake have turned to brambles, their thorns as sharp as my frustration. But right now, my attention is on my golden-haired elf. He’s watching me with a wary expression. Gone are the sneers and frowns, replaced with careful looks—like I could break. It only irks me all the more.

“What about what I want?” I demand, throwing my hands out to the sides as frustrated tears prick my eyes.

Something changes in Eldrin then. Tilting his head to one side, he watches me, really watches me, then raises a single brow. “And what do you want?”

There are so many answers to that question. I want them to let me train like we did before without watching me with bated breath, waiting for me to fall. I want people to stop treating me like I’m different from everyone else, for conversations to continue when I walk by. For all of the devoted and admiring looks to stop. I want my mates to stop treating me like I might break.

However, in this moment, there is one thing I want above all of those things. Seeing Eldrin in the moonlight, his face looks softer, less harsh. I’ve always thought he had a rugged beauty to him, but away from the others when his face relaxes, he’s truly stunning. A part of me insists it’s really important that Eldrin and I finally become mates. We may not have a goddess blessedbond, but regardless, there issomethingbetween us, and we both know better than anyone that we don’t know how much time we have in this life.

Desire for him floods my system, and I see the exact moment he can sense it, his pupils narrowing.

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