Page 157 of Fate Calls the Elf Queen

“You know he did that because he loves me. You never would have been so noble.” But she thought back on it; he’d let her leave twice, and he didn’t fight hard for her to stay. Once, when she left to break their mate bond, and again with Hel.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have. Not in a million fucking years would I have sent you away with him if the situation was reversed. I would have found a way to protect you myself, not give you up and risk losing you forever. I would have never stopped touching you and loving you or pushed you away while waiting to see if you still wanted me once you remembered. I would have fought for you. I may not be selfless or noble, but I do love you and I’d doanythingfor you but give you up.”

Anything, including starting a war with his cousin to take her back, including creating a curse for an army so he could stop the council from being able to kill her over and over. Even if he hadn’t meant for them to be monsters, he created that spell with the intent of having a loyal following. She knew deep down the reason Adalon burned was because Hel loved her even through hating her, and that devotion drove him to become the most feared and hated person in the realms. Passion pushed him almost to the point of madness, and she loved him for it.

His fingers brushed her hair behind her pointed ear and his touch sent goosebumps down her spine. Darkness built in his face, storms of jealousy and anger, and then it faded away to understanding. Valeen closed her eyes, letting a tear slide down her cheek, and his thumb swiped it away. “I don’t blame you for falling for him. He’s easy to love. So, I will wait for you to find that he was best for Layala Lightbringer, but I am the only one for you, Valeen, goddess of night.”

Chapter45

VALEEN

Valeen stood in what had been her bedroom for the past two months, staring at her packed bag. Hours had passed since she fought with Hel. Hours to contemplate her love for two people who’d come into her life at different times when she needed them, and to comprehend the sorrow and loss she and Hel faced because of what Varlett did to them. She cried for the choice she had to make. She cried for the one she would hurt. Because she did love them both, for different reasons and in different ways.

Fear held her in its grip knowing what her choice would do to either of them.

From the dresser she picked up the winged horse statue of Midnight given to her by War. In her first life when she moved to Ryvengaard with War, he never once pushed her for a relationship. He fought beside her against Hel and the council. He gave up everything for her then, just out of true friendship. Because he believed it was the right thing to do.

It was Thane in this life she’d truly fallen in love with, not War. Thane the Elf King. He got her to fall for his charm, his relentless pursuit of her, and he loved her enough to not take advantage of her ignorance, and even selflessly sent her away with Hel because he knew that was what she needed to remember. He had a heart of gold. How could she not love him?

She set the statue of Midnight down, knowing who she was going to hurt and a part of her would die with that choice.

* * *

“Presco, we’re leaving.”Valeen came down the stairs of the manor with her bag of belongings slung over her shoulder.

Presco poked his head from around the corner, pushing his glasses up. “To…”

“Adalon. You’re coming. I know you have a wife now, but I need you.”

He stepped into the hallway, squared his shoulders, and bowed. His golden hair fell forward, and he brushed it back as he stood. “Absolutely, my queen. Shall we not worry about the hole in the wall then?”

She stopped and inspected the space they’d spent the past two months. The light blue couches they’d gathered around, the dining table they’d spent hours chatting at, and the long months she’d spent here with War. The hole in the far wall she’d knocked Hel through let in a breeze that ruffled the curtains along the front windows.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t believe I’m coming back.”

“Ever?”

“Ryvengaard is not my home.”

Presco’s brows raised, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You want home to be House of Night again? Hel said you could open the way… Or do you intend to stay in Adalon?” He suddenly appeared worried to hear the answer.

Hel stepped into the doorway of the front entrance and leaned against the frame. His brows pulled tighter, jaw muscles clenching, eager and worried to know the answer to that question. After all, House of Night, Villhara was the home they shared together.

Two thousand years had passed since she’d been the ruler of that territory. There was no telling what had become of her people or who ruled there now. No doubt it belonged to another god or goddess, although it was possible her wards held up all this time, keeping out anyone who didn’t belong. The thought made her smile. She liked to think they were happy, thriving and waiting for her to return, not slaves of some asshole.

She searched Hel’s face, those garnet eyes so foreign to her memories, with the hope that she might be with him again, the only one who ever held those pieces of him together. Her soulmate.

Despite all his faults, he was the love she couldn’t give up. He was the first and should have been the only, and even though it would hurt War, he would have to understand. Hel was right. Thane was the love and mate of Layala’s life, but Hel was Valeen’s. He was the only one who could match her fire, and she could embrace his darkness because she was part of it. With a deep breath she met Hel’s stare. His body froze, terror and anticipation written all over his face, fighting for dominance.

Until she said, “My home is in Villhara.”

He looked like the weight of a thousand suns lifted off his shoulders and strutted forward. He was a king seeking to conquer and she was ready to drop to her knees and submit. “So, we’re done with the games? We’re done with the uncertainty?”

Her heart pounded with how sexy he looked coming for her, gliding like a predator going for the kill. “Yes.”

“You might want to make yourself scarce, Presco.”

He was already on his way out.

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