Page 35 of Revenge of the Elf Lord

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Cyran’s whirlwind of emotions tore through her, stripping her usual calmness away and replacing it with the unfamiliar sensations of rage and violence that had filled his heart and mind for so long.

Using her empathic abilities, she searched through the myriad of feelings. Still, the only one she identified with and comprehended was the betrayal he felt because of Haman’s actions and the ultimate death of Cyran’s mother.

She understood this emotion well, for she, too, believed her parents and their lies betrayed her. It still hurt even though she realized they had done it for her benefit and safety. Growing up believing Émilien to be her brother devastated her the most. It had stripped away her entire world. The whole of her life had been a lie.

She had grown up loving her brother, depending on him for her care and upbringing. At first, being told he was her father had been unforgivable. She paused on that thought. Or had it?

Whether in the guise of brother or father, Émilien still raised her. He taught her everything she needed to know to flourish as a young woman and an elf. That, in and of itself, was a complete miracle since the man comprehended little about being feminine.

He was cursed in the body of a wolf for most of her life. Femininity was the last thing she had ever expected from him, but he had shown her in the only way he knew how. He had loved her unconditionally. And she adored him.

With a small smile, she gave Cyran a sideways glance as they walked side by side over the uneven floor. “I understand betrayal. While I experienced nothing as serious as yours, those feelings are still genuine and painful. I was raised by my father, who posed as my brother. Once I learned the truth, I believed my entire life had been a lie.”

She sidestepped a pile of rags, her shoulder brushing against his. “I thought my parents were dead, only to discover they were both alive. I didn’t have a conventional upbringing, and without my best friend Soliana and her family, I would have missed out on so much more. Her stories during her visits were refreshing and upsetting, but through them, I learned how a family should interact.”

Cyran’s expression remained unreadable. She wished she could read his mind. Wading through a swamp of emotions was difficult enough, but to have thoughts moving along with them to guide her in the right direction would be helpful. Sometimes being an empath just sucked.

For now, she decided to change the subject, but after some thought about how to proceed, she would talk to him about it again. “So, where do we go from here? I thought we would find doors leading into rooms, but this seems like a long tube dug through the earth. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Do you feel the growing heaviness?” he asked. “Like the air thickens with each step and the sense of doom increases?”

She stopped, a slight frown furrowing her eyebrows. She shook her head and continued to study the sensations rolling over her. “It’s not thick to me but more oppressive.” She sniffed the air. “With a cloying odor of decay.”

Her eyes jerked to his. “I know what the Nazis did to their prisoners, but your fa—sorry, Haman…” Her eyes widened. “He was part of that as well, wasn’t he? Besides keeping the war going on Alfheimr, you never said what other things he did.”

Cyran’s teal eyes darkened to the expected dark blue-gray as his anger increased. “No, I didn’t. I wanted to spare you the details. He was not a kind man and would have rivaled Hitler, Himmler, and Heydrich in his diabolical quest to be the supreme evil. He was the reason—the drive—behind their obsession with themaster race. He was the reason those who were different were rounded up and imprisoned. He was the reason millions of innocent people were murdered throughout the war.”

She had the unmistakable sense Cyran blamed himself. The emotions radiating off him were stifling and as oppressive as the air surrounding them. “Cyran, you cannot take the blame for Haman’s actions. He decided to become the way he is and influence those he chose to be with. You don’t even know for certain that it wasn’t the other way around—that they influenced him.”

He ran agitated fingers through his hair, smoothing out the ruffled effect from the previous action, but from his frustrated expression, she had no idea if he had heard her or not. “You are not your stepfather’s keeper. All you can do is be the personyouare meant to be—the best version of who you are.”

He tilted his head, his heavy gaze holding hers. “When did you get to be so smart? Did you study to be a therapist?”

She smiled. “Not at all. You can thank Freyja for that last tidbit. I am just like you, and sadly, we are no different than many others because we care. We care about those around us. We care about what happens throughout the Nine Worlds. We must learn that we can’t change people. We all fail at something in our lives. Some more than most, but it's up to them to try harder or redirect the path they follow, not us.”

She reached out and clasped his hand, giving it a slight squeeze. “Now, let's finish this. Find what you came here for so we can help cure those who need us.”

He nodded once, turned his back to her, and raised his arms. He began to chant in a language she hadn’t heard since she was young.

“Impermeable darkness surrounds and hides.

Lighten and thin, illuminate our eyes.

Cast in evil, harming all who live,

Protect and guide, all harmed to forgive.”

The ancient Elvish washed over her like music, his voice melodic and soft as each word flowed off his tongue. Before he finished the last word, several doors shimmered into view.

“Amazing.” She wished, not for the first time, she had been taught spells in her youth. Maybe then she would not be so fearful of her hidden powers. Whatever they might be. Both Freyja and Ashia had told her to trust in herself, and using her magic would be a good thing. Neither would put her in harm’s way, but…

Shaking her head, she raised her face to Cyran. His dark gaze seemed to be studying her. She could not help but wonder if one of his powers was mind-reading. Taking a chance, she decided she would accept his help, both now and after they completed this quest, so she could follow what she preached and become whoshewas meant to be.

One side of his perfect mouth rose. “No, I cannot read your mind, but I do believe I understand your apprehension, which is the only emotion I’m sensing from you.” His grin widened. “You also have a very expressive face.”

She covered her face as a familiar warmth flushed her skin. “And that’s why I don’t play games. I have no secrets. I was trying to decide how to ask you for help. I tend to figure things out for myself and never ask for anyone’s aid, but you offered. So, will you help me learn to use my magic and be a better elf?”

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