Page 47 of Chains of Love

"And now look at her," Kaelor rumbles. "Strong. Beautiful."

I push back from the table, the scrape of my chair cutting through their intimate conversation. "I'll retire for the night."

"So soon?" Lirien's green eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see guilt there. Or perhaps that's just another manipulation.

"Yes." I turn away before I can see her curl further into their attentions. Before I have to witness more evidence of what a fool I've been.

The narrow hallway leading to my room has never looked more inviting.

I slam the door behind me, pressing my forehead against the rough wood. The guest room is sparse – a bed, a chest, a small table with a pitcher of water. My sword feels heavy at my hip, its familiar weight now a mockery of my warrior's instincts. How did I not see this coming?

Just hours ago, I'd pulled Lirien close as we crested the final ridge, thinking about building a life together. Now those thoughts feel laced with bitterness.

Laughter drifts through the door – Sethrys's cultured chuckle mixing with Kaelor's rumbling mirth. And there, like bells in the wind, Lirien's own delighted giggle. The same laugh that made my heart race on countless nights under the stars.

"Damn it." I yank off my sword belt, tossing it onto the bed. The scabbard bounces against the wall with a dull thud.

The bond is there inside me, warm, alive, inviting. I close my eyes, remembering how it felt when she strengthened it. How real it seemed. How perfect.

But then there's Kaelor, practically wagging his tail at her every word. And Sethrys, his golden eyes following her every movement with that same desperate devotion I feel in my own chest.

Is this what I look like to her? Another pet in her collection?

I grab the water pitcher, tempted to hurl it across the room. Instead, I set it down harder than necessary, water sloshing over the rim.

"Some warrior," I mutter to myself. "Centuries of battle experience, and I fall for the first demon who bats her eyes at me."

But even as the words leave my mouth, I know they're not true. It wasn't just her eyes. It was her determination. Her vulnerability. The way she'd curl into me at night, trusting me to keep her safe.

Unless that was all an act too.

"Fuck!" I shout, slamming my fist into the wall in an attempt to dispel the frustration in my chest.

I pace across the wooden floor, each step matching the thundering of my pulse. The shadows dance on the walls from the single oil lamp, and my fingers twitch with the urge to extinguish it, to hide in darkness where I won't have to face these thoughts.

The truth burns worse than any battle wound - I still want her. The bond remains strong inside me, warm and alive, mocking my attempts to hate her. Every time I close my eyes, I see her smile, feel the phantom touch of her fingers against my skin.

"Pathetic," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "She's probably deciding which pet to take to bed tonight."

The image of Kaelor's massive form hovering over her makes my stomach turn. Or worse, Sethrys coiling around her, his scaled hands... I slam my fist against the wall again, welcoming the sharp pain.

Three soft knocks break through my spiral. The sound is delicate, hesitant - so perfectly Lirien that my body respondsbefore my mind can catch up. My heart races, and heat floods my veins.

"What?" The word comes out harsh, hostile.

"Can I come in?" Her voice drifts through the door like smoke, sweet and impossible to grasp. "Please, Darak?"

My feet carry me to the door before I can stop them, and suddenly the door is open. I stare down at Lirien, her green eyes wide and uncertain as they meet mine. I hate how my chest tightens at her proximity, how the bond mocks me and my attempts at ignoring it.

"Can we talk?" Her voice is soft, barely above a whisper. The words hang in the air between us like a blade ready to fall.

My jaw clenches as warring impulses tear through me. Part of me wants to roar at her to leave, to curse her for every manipulation. Another part aches to pull her close, to believe there's some explanation that will make this all make sense.

I do neither. Instead, I step aside, giving her space to enter.

She slips past me, her robes rustling against the wooden floor. The scent of herbs and moonflowers follows her – the same scent that used to comfort me during our nights together. Now it just makes my stomach twist.

I drop onto the bed, the frame creaking under my weight. Lirien stands a few feet away, her fingers twisting together in that nervous habit I once found endearing. The silence stretches between us as she shifts her weight from foot to foot.

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