Page 10 of Between Realms

With his hands lingering on my waist, I’m suddenly very awake.

Yet, after the initial thrill of contact with this handsome elf, his forwardness unsettles me. Emotions swirl with the forbidden desire that pools low in my belly.

I grab my pack and sling it over my shoulder.

“You could have just left without me,” I say through a tense jaw.

Perhaps separating from him will cure me of this illicit urge before it makes me do something stupid—before he reminds me of how ridiculous I’m being for feeling this way.

“Yes, I could have left you,” Oakes grumbles. “But what sort of elf would I be if I rescinded my protection because you’re slow to wake up?” He hurries out of the shelter as if I have insulted him again.

I want to kick myself. What have I done? I’m no good at interacting with anyone other than Merlara and the faeries.

I rush after him and clasp his arm to make him hear me.

My hand tingles with the contact, and I suck in a breath. Again, I’m playing a dangerous game by daring to touch him.

My eyes wide, I explain in a panic, “I never meant to suggest you wouldn’t honor your word.”

Stock still, Oakes stares at my hand that inexplicably remains on his forearm.

Why did I touch him? A familiar touch by a human isn’t allowed.

I quickly remove my offending appendage. “Goddess, I’m sorry.” I hold my hand behind my back as if I can’t trust it to behave around him. And to be fair, maybe my handsshouldn’tbe trusted around him.

Oakes grasps my other hand to show he doesn’t mind my forwardness. His huge thumb brushes over my knuckles. “I know you didn’t mean to offend me. It’s just… I take my promises seriously. Iwilldeliver you safely to the gates. Alright?”

“Alright,” I agree. “Not that it is an excuse, but I’m not quite awake yet.”

“I need no apology.” He locks the shelter, and suggests. “You need to relieve yourself?”

I nod and hurry off behind the bushes and trees to empty my bladder. When I return, we hike back to the main road.

As we walk along the barely illuminated path, I have the nagging suspicion something other than my comment bothers him. Something in his expression seems conflicted, but I rationalize it can’t have anything to do with me. Can it? Maybe he’s nervous about escorting me against the royal court’s orders. Should I release him from his promise of protection? What if he were to get into trouble on my account? I can’t have that weighing on me.

“Oakes, you should leave me behind. I release you from your promise,” I say quietly, almost hoping he doesn’t hear me. I don’t reallywantto let him go. Have I already started feeling attached to him? Surely, it is just that he is kind to me and radiates safety. Yet I’m already craving our next forbidden touch. I continue, “I would be very upset with myself if you were to suffer the wrath of the royals for helping me. You have been far too generous already.”

He pulls an apple from his pocket and hands it to me. His shoulders relax, and something eases in him. “Are you trying to get rid of me because you don’t like me?” he asks with a grin.

“What?” I yelp. “No. I like you. I mean, I don’tnotlike you. Not that I am saying… you know, um. You are… wonderful, but—”

“Why are you so flustered?” Oakes asks, even more amused by my rambling.

I pull myself together, taking in a deep breath. “Well, I… I don’t know how to act around others, except for Merlara,” I explain, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I’m usually on my own. Most days, Merlara leaves me the entire day to work in her foundry while she’s selling her wares at the market.”

“Do you experience loneliness?” Oakes asks, taking me off-guard.

I frown at his speculation that I might be devoid of the emotion because I’m human. “I have a full range of emotions, much like elves, from what I can tell.” I might accidentally allow myself to glower at him.

Oakes eyes me, quirking a brow. “That wasn’t my question or my assumption.”

Oh. Why did I assume he would think that? He really doesn’t seem to be like some of the other elves who snub me in Betonie.

Realizing I am being defensive for no reason, I whisper, “Yes, I get lonely sometimes.” Not wanting to dwell on my sadness, I turn the conversation to him. “Do you get lonely when you travel?”

“I’m not alone very often,” Oakes says with a melancholy that only makes me want to ask him a thousand more questions, which he’s likely never going to answer. “I’ve enjoyed the quiet on this trip.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” I flush bright pink, feeling like an invader, and slow my walk to give him space. “I… I didn’t mean to disturb your solitude.”

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