Page 54 of Elven Throne

It was almost a miracle, honestly.Ifshe’d believed in those.

Almost, but not quite.

Despite the undeniably joyful acceptance and open willingness this surprisingly large group of shifters exuded toward Shade, Rebecca still intensely felt the hidden emotions from one other shifter standing beside her.

And they didnotmatch the setting.

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EverythingMaxwellbottledupand tried desperately not to show outwardly was difficult to pick apart through their connection. The only thing Rebeccadidclearly understand was the undercurrent of looming terror and violence thrumming beneath the surface of his stony exterior.

She wasn’t worried about everyone else. Maxwell wouldn’t have led them all here if it wasn’t safe.

But she absolutely worried about him and the cause of his undeniable discomfort in this place.

She still had no idea why.

So she stayed by his side the whole time. Short of pulling him aside to ask, at the risk of insulting their new hosts, that was all she could do for him at the moment.

After several minutes of watching her task force blend with the Sparta shifters in a heartening mix of generosity and gratitude, however, Rebecca noticed very clear and abnormally strange patterns of behavior among the shifters.

Specifically that not a single one of them had looked her way while the groups mingled. As if she were invisible.

No… That wasn’t quite it.

As ifMaxwellwere invisible and, by proxy in standing right beside him, so was Rebecca.

Some of the barefoot and wide-eyed children looked like they wanted to approach her. They watched her from their seats at the picnic tables, or while standing behind their parents, or after running away from the operatives who’d playfully made them laugh and scurry away in the excitement.

One small, thin girl of maybe six with dirt stains coating her skinny legs gathered enough courage to head their way, staring at Rebecca with unrelenting interest as she looked the elf up and down.

Rebecca offered a warm smile, which would have felt strange in any other environment. Somehow, it didn’t here.

The girl’s wide brown eyes flashed with a low, sputtering silver glow, then took a few more staggered steps closer. But she was stopped by a passing adult gently grabbing her arm before stooping down to the same level as the child’s face and muttering something firm and inaudible from where Rebecca stood.

The child’s eyes widened as she shot one more glance toward Rebecca, their glow snuffing out instantly. The woman bent over in front of her jostled the girl’s wrist, said something else, then straightened and pointed off in a different direction. “Go play over there. Go on.”

Looking both terrified and desperate to investigate the elf on their property, the girl darted off as she’d been told, stopping only once to look over her shoulder at Rebecca. Then her gaze flickered toward Maxwell in a disapproving scowl, with the rare intensity of which only children were capable, morphing her features.

Then the child spun around and sprinted away.

Rebecca caught sight of several other children shooting the same expressions in Maxwell’s direction before whispering to each other and racing around the yard again with all the space they could possibly hope for to run wild.

What the hell was going on?

Still eyeing the movement and conversations scattered around the property behind the farmhouse, Rebecca leaned toward Maxwell and muttered, “Did you catch that?”

“Every single bit of it.” His voice was low, subdued, missing its usual confidence. “Always.”

“So what’s the deal, then? Some kinda shifter legend at play? ‘Eat your vegetables, brush your teeth, do what the grown-ups say, or an elf will come snatch you from your bed’?”

She was trying to lighten the mood a little, to show him she was unaffected by the children’s reactions and maybe that she found it more odd and amusing than any form of insult.

Maxwell hardly moved, his dully glowing silver eyes focused on a single point somewhere off in the distance, and sighed heavily. “Their version of the so-called boogeyman does not include an elf. What you saw has nothing to do with you.”

An itching, burning trail of discomfort, shame, and regret burrowed beneath her skin, like some parasite that had lain dormant for an unbelievably long time, just waiting for a moment like this. When it was granted the opportunity to revive itself and make her skin crawl.

It wasn’t hers, though. This was all Maxwell.

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