Page 72 of Shield of Fire

“After all this time? Not likely.”

“Does Ka-hal ring any bells?”

“Not a one.” He paused, frowning. “Ka-hal doesn’t sound very elvish—could it be an anagram of his actual name?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Lahak? Hakla? Halak?”

He snapped his fingers. “Halak. That’s the one. Came from the Cloondeash area from memory, but was here for work.”

“Where the hell is Cloondeash?”

“Ireland,” Eljin said, then added when I glanced at him in surprise, “I was talking to an elf from that area in the pub the other night.”

“And were you alone at this pub?” I asked mildly.

“Sadly, yes.” His expression was woebegone, but laughter danced in his eyes. “My one true love was out dancing with another man.”

“Yeah, because a very single, very eligible pixie has no other choices waiting in the wings.” My voice was dry, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Perhaps he prefers to wait for the right choice.”

“And perhaps it is too early in any relationship to tell whether a choice is right or not.”

“Very true, but perhaps he is also a man of patience.”

Our gazes held for several very long seconds, and something within me shifted. A weight, perhaps, or maybe even simple trepidation.

He was serious.

I just had to decide if I was.

Which I was... and yet, an odd reluctance remained. Or maybe that was simply the lure of forbidden fruit. A hankering for what I could never have on a permanent basis.

I tore my gaze away and gulped down some coffee. “Do you remember where he was working? Was it with Cynwrig or somewhere else?”

Lugh shrugged. “I wouldn’t have thought the Myrkálfars here in Deva would be importing talent, given they’re one of the largest encampments in the UK. But rather than us theorizing, just ask Cynwrig. As his father’s heir, he has full access to the records.”

“Cynwrig Lùtair?” Eljin said. “He’s the competition?”

“You didn’t know?” Lugh said.

“I knew there was competition. I just didn’t realize how high caliber it was.”

“Well, if one is going to do a dark elf,” I said with a grin, “one might as well go for the top-shelf kind.”

“Indeed,” he said. “It’ll definitely force me to keep my game above par.”

“Which I cannot be sad about.” I leaned sideways and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Especially after last night.”

“No man can keep up that pace forever.”

“Cynwrig can.”

“Hmmm” was all he said to that.

I grinned and returned the conversation to safer topics. “If Ka-hal is an anagram of Halak, maybe his partner’s name is one, too.”

“Possible.” Lugh wrinkled his nose. “Leekkam? Mkkeela? Makkeel?”

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