Page 7 of Daghel

I shift my weight in my seat, giving Drisk a silent command. His wings stretch wide as he cuts to the right, drawing theformation of gathol with us as they follow our lead, keeping high within the thick cover of the clouds.

“Descend at my command,” I growl. “We must time it right and in a spot where they are most vulnerable before they can get to their cannons.”

Damned sorcerer’s cannons can knock the gathols out of the sky far too easily. Fortunately, despite their strength and range, the cannons are too unwieldy to mount just anywhere, or in significant numbers, and they take a considerable amount of time to operate. As long as we have surprise on our side, we have a chance at success. And with Durethikal on the hunt, we will need what little supplies we can find to fortify ourselves against the darkness that seeks to take us.

The train passes below, its cannons a dark smear behind its engine, mounted on the treasury. I sneer at their absurd priorities. Aside from the occasional desire to ornament oneself, orcs have little use for the inferior bits of metal the humans prize. It is the contents of the supply cars that we desire toward the rear of the train, and just ahead of that—those containing potentially valuable mates.

My mouth dries with excitement as the train winds farther ahead, and a smile stretches across my face.

“Now!” I bellow, and the gathols around me roar in response as we drop with our wyverns in a shrieking descent upon our exposed prey.

I lick my lips, my long tongue sliding along my large tusks contained within my flight mask. I am suddenly eager and very hungry.

Let night descend for the humans. Daghel—the child of death—has come. Any who dare to stand against me shall know no mercy.

Chapter

Four

ANYA

The wintry landscape is beautiful and unlike anything seen within the capital. Although the freshly fallen snow has its charm in Zyl, it is quickly dirtied and disturbed by the human and licensed nonhuman activity within the city. Sadly, as exquisite as the scenery is, it loses its appeal after two days pass on the train. Even the attempts of holiday merriment coming from the front of the car I had been forced to vacate fails to amuse me. Nor do the cups of eggnog heavily spiked with whiskey bring me any pleasure.

I must have nodded off at some point because I awoke from the same nightmare plaguing me—alone and freezing in the cold, an endless, bitter, all-consuming cold. It is a frozen emptiness where my screams echo back to me with mocking laughter. It haunts my nights far too frequently these days. I thought I had put such nightmares behind me long ago. Although I have no relationship with my siblings, they are comfortable enough, and, as for me, I haven’t known such cold in years. Still, my hand shakes as I pour a liberal cup of eggnog from the chilled canteen waiting near my seat where the serverleft it. I lift my cup and stare morosely once more out at the passing landscape.

“What a dreadful Yulen,” I mutter into my cup before taking a gulp.

The elf beside me gives me a sidelong look that I choose to ignore, even if his long, twitching ears are somewhat adorable. I always did like frolicking in bed with the nonhuman gentlemen who came into the capital and desired some company. And they had a surprising resilience and desire for rougher pleasures.

Sighing, I rub a hand over my eyes. I cannot think of such things. I’m marrying a governor after all.

The male seems to take my gesture as an invitation, however, because he sidles closer to me, his purple eyes brightening with interest under barely a sheen of sympathy. I squint at him sourly as he brushes a hand against my thigh. Although he is not of the nobler elven species with their more exotic appearances, he is not lacking in the least when it comes to beauty. Unfortunately, he takes cues as poorly as most men of my acquaintance do . It seems being around humans hasn’t benefited him in the least if he is picking up their bad habits.

Sighing again, I turn away from him to face the window once more, giving him my back with the hope that he will take the hint and go away. His leg shifts away from mine, and I feel a moment of hope before he suddenly moves to the seat directly across from mine, his knees pressing intimately close to me. I look up at him sharply with the unexpected contact, and I give him an annoyed frown.

“I beg your pardon. What do you think you’re doing?” I incredulously demand.

His expression turns sly, and his knees shift to rub against my legs in a way that is not the least bit accidental. “Merely attempting to bring some holiday warmth and cheer. You seem cold. Let me warm you.”

I blink at him, amused at the line despite my sour mood. It isn’t going to get him anywhere—something my body language should have made abundantly clear. That he hasn’t picked up on the signs makes me wonder if it’s a cultural miscommunication or if he is so young that he has not yet figured out the cues when it comes to intimate interactions. It is so hard to tell with elves, but given his earnest tone and the sort of bold assurance that comes with youthful cockiness, I’m leaning toward the latter. Just how old is he? I snort mirthfully to myself. I doubt he has seen even fifty years as an adult. Give or take. Practically a child just barely over the cusp into respectable adulthood when it comes to elves.

I take another slow sip from my cup and arch a brow at him. Well, why not? I will play along. If nothing else, it may be an amusing way to pass several minutes while he tries unsuccessfully to woo me out of my undergarments.

“You really think that I need you to help me get warm?” I swirl the contents of my cup with a meaningful look. “I can’t imagine what you can accomplish that several good splashes of whiskey can’t.”

His eyes drop to my cup, but his lips curl as if he has it all figured out, and I bite back my laughter. My, heisyoung.

He leans in and his lips part in a manner that is quite pretty but not as seductive as he likely imagines. I narrow my eyes in anticipation, curious to see where this goes. A slender lock of deep green hair drifts forward to hang in front of his eyes as he tips his head, his eyes angled in a way that makes them look larger and more inviting. I mentally applaud. I have to hand it to him—he has really thought out his game. He has clearly choreographed every move… and does not understand how to apply them on more experienced prey.

Adorable.

“A beautiful woman shouldn’t be alone at Yulen,” he murmurs in a low, sultry voice. “Although the ice and snow compliment your beauty and makes you appear as a wintry noble lady of Elhalein, what you truly long for is fire.” He brushed a claw along one of the red curls hanging loose to frame my face. “If you accompany me back to my private sleeper, I can give you the sort of Yulen awakening that you need. I will kindleyoursweet fire within the depths of this night and keep you warm.”

My eyebrows rise at his invitation. A private sleeper car? Clearly he is no mere wandering young elf. The old me would have been tempted to indulge him and get him drunk enough that, after a round or two, he might fall into a deep stupor, allowing me to indulge in the comforts of the car and an undisturbed, restful sleep. Alas, it seems that I will have to make myself comfortable for yet another night on my seat.

His smile widens as his eyelids drop to half-mast. He balances his weight on the one hand he has braced against his knee, and he leans in even closer so that I can see the gold flecks in his eyes beneath the fringe of his thick, sooty eyelashes. His lips round, and I stare at him in shock. Surely he wouldn’t think to just kiss me in public without my leave? My fingers clench around my cup, preparing to toss the contents into his face, but the scream of metal interrupts me and precedes the violent jerk of the car only by a half a second, flinging the elf forward into my lap. Despite being a woman of the world, I shout with some surprise when his face lands firmly against my bosom, and the force of his body colliding against me provides a soft place to land amidst the ample skirts gathered suddenly between my thighs.

The entire cabin shakes and then jolts sickeningly as half its wheels come up off track. The car tilts, the electric lighting cutting in and out in a frantic flicker before dropping back intoplace with another hard lurch and a louder shriek of metal upon metal. Finally, we come to a complete stop and silence descends over the car.

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