Page 31 of Chains of Love

Good, I think to myself,less blood spilled when people behave.

The port bustles around us, a chaos of shouting merchants and clattering carts. I scan our surroundings, mentally mapping escape routes while Lirien counts our remaining coins.

"We should find supplies first," she says, tucking the money pouch away. "Then-"

"Well, if it isn't our favorite siblings!" Vex's voice cuts through the crowd.

My jaw clenches as he and Karn approach, their docker's clothes replaced with merchant finery. The past three days of relative peace clearly hadn't taught them enough about boundaries.

"We're opening a shop just down the street," Karn says, pointing toward a row of storefronts. "Importing exotic goods from the eastern ports."

Lirien's laugh sparkles in the morning air. "How wonderful for you both."

"You must visit us," Vex purrs, stepping closer. "We could use some... entertainment."

"I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind sharing," Karn adds with a wink.

It’s not hard to miss Lirien's amusement at their obvious ploy, but my patience snaps like a bowstring. In one fluid motion, I sweep her over my shoulder, ignoring her surprised yelp.

"Darak!" She pounds her fists against my back.

I stride away from the docks, leaving the zagfer merchants' laughter behind us.

16

LIRIEN

My fists pound against Darak's back as he carries me through the busy marketplace, filled almost entirely by humans who openly glare at him. The blood rushes to my head, making my temples throb. His shoulder digs into my stomach with each step, and my silver hair dangles like a curtain, drawing even more attention to this humiliating display.

"Put me down this instant." I smack his leather armor again, knowing it won't hurt him but hoping to make my point.

"No." His grip on my legs tightens.

A group of merchants pause their haggling to stare. A child points and giggles. My cheeks burn hot enough to rival the summer sun beating down on us.

"I mean it, Darak. This is ridiculous."

"You're the one making a scene." His voice carries that infuriating hint of amusement. "If you'd stopped struggling five minutes ago, we'd be halfway there by now."

I go limp across his shoulder, exhausted from the futile resistance. "Why are you doing this?"

"I saw what your feet looked like last night." His voice softens, losing its teasing edge. "Just get comfortable."

The gentle concern in his words spreads warmth through my chest, different from my earlier embarrassment.

Darak freezes mid-step, and my stomach lurches against his shoulder. Through my curtain of silver hair, I spot three men blocking our path, their faces hard with determination. One holds a pitchfork, another a woodcutter's axe.

Human's have made camps here in Prazh, and so Dark Elves don't find any value of traveling here. That, and seeing one of them cart a human woman around like a sack of flour has probably ruffled their feathers.

"Put her down," the tallest one demands, his voice trembling despite his stern expression. "Your kind aren't in charge around here."

"Move." Darak's tone carries that dangerous edge I've come to recognize. His muscles tense beneath me, and I can feel him shifting his weight, ready to reach for his sword.

My heart races. These men don't understand – they think they're helping, but they'll only get themselves killed. I've seen what Darak can do to trained warriors. These farmers wouldn't stand a chance.

"I said put her?—"

"Hi there!" I twist around, flashing my brightest smile at the group. The sudden movement makes my head spin, but I maintain the cheerful expression. "Sorry for all the ruckus. This is my husband's way of trying to keep me off my feet."

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