Page 47 of Fate Calls the Elf Queen

His light touch moved over the lily mark on her upper arm at the base of her shoulder. “It just appeared you say?” She nodded. “I’ve never seen one like it…”

“You know what it means?” she suspected, but she needed to hear it from someone else.

He raised a finger, turned away and hurried over to a bookshelf that lined the entire wall. His fingers skimmed over the titles until he plucked a brown book with gold lettering. The sound of him hurriedly flipping pages filled the silence between them. The longer it took him the more sweat covered the back of her neck.

“I read about this before.” He looked up from the pages. “Is he a god?”

She nodded.

“Then I assumed you had a weapon that could truly kill him.” He cleared his throat when she stared. “There are a couple accounts of this happening before. When two people are destined for one another, they cannot kill the other, and a mark appears on their flesh. In this case, it looks to be yours on the arm of the attempt and his on the wound.”

“What do you mean destined for each other?” she snarled.

“In this story, once they met, they were drawn to each other. It didn’t matter if they tried to stay away, they always seemed to end up in the same places. They eventually became— lovers.” He turned the book around and handed it to Valeen.

Her eyes fell to one line.Soulmate—an unbreakable union formed by the All Mother. The perfect match to the soul.Slowly shaking her head, she looked up. “This can’t be. He’s—” she nibbled her lip, hesitant to admit, but finally said, “not one of us. The All Mother wouldn’t bind me to one ofthem. He worships the Maker not her. And especially not someone from his House.”

“I’ve never seen a mark form on two people like this myself. But that account says there have been others, and some have been enemies. I don’t think everyone tries to kill their mate so there isn’t a mark formed that way but for you…”

Valeen’s heart crashed hard against her chest. She scanned the page in disbelief and read:Once soulmates become one body, they become of one mind, and thoughts can be heard and spoken when desired. Mates are eternally drawn toward one another. Their mark is unique to them and may appear in many ways, however, it is typical when they become one flesh.

“I suppose it could have been worse. It could have been his wretched mentor.”

“His mentor?” The blond man’s eyes narrowed. “So, it’s Hel or War, isn’t it? I saw something between the three of you at the party.”

“Don’t ever speak of this to anyone. Ever.” She slammed the book shut. “This is simply a new tattoo. That is all.”

He bowed his head. “You have my silence, goddess.”

Layala shotup in bed with a sweat-soaked brow.The morning light and chirping of happy birds outside the window were a stark contrast to the dream. Maker above, it felt too real to be only a dream. It was a memory. Did Valeen—I, try to kill Hel before? Was that how the mark on my arm truly formed?She blinked several times trying to clear her blurry morning vision, not to mention confusion.

She pushed her unkempt hair back and smoothed down the fraying pieces and meandered over to the dresser. A black short-sleeved top with silver swirls around the collar and the matching pants would be perfect for the day.

With a quiet click Tifapine stepped in through her newly installed miniature door, standing a foot and a half tall. She carried two rolls half as big as her and wore a grin only the happiest of gnomes had. “Mornin’,” she said and wiggled her eyebrows. “I got into the kitchen and made some rolls. My recipe is better, but I won’t be giving away my secrets. Anyway, I saw this strange—I will admit, veryattractivenew elf downstairs talking with Thane. They look oddly alike. He has shorter hair and creepy red eyes, but they could be brothers.” She tore into the roll with her teeth and said with a muffled mouthful, “Is that his cousin I heard the staff talking about? Is this the same elf who carried you up here?”

“Yes.”

“Scandalous.”

Well, that news ruined Layala’s morning. She blew out her breath and stepped into her pants and slid on her top. “His name is Hel, and it’s not scandalous. We were training with magic, and I passed out.” She considered using his title, but Tif would probably scream.

She narrowed her eyes. “But isn’t that,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “the Black Mage’s name. Zaurahel—Hel. I hear you all talking, you know. I thought it was strange Queen Orlandia left too.”

Layala frowned and nodded. “Yes.”

“So, you mean to tell me, the Black Mage is dragon’s fire hot? No way.” She shook her head and took another bite. “It wouldn’t be fair of the Maker to do such a thing. He should be hideous, as hideous as he is on the inside.”

Good lord, of course she’d find Hel attractive. “Well, it seems the Maker has a sense of humor.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but have you seen thePalenor Scroll’sstory today?” She nodded toward the bedside table.

Layala’s stomach dropped, and she turned around, starting for the folded-up paper on the nightstand. “No.” Then a quiet knock came from somewhere in the bathroom and she paused. Layala’s brows pulled down and the hairs along her spine stood. “Didn’t you say Thane was downstairs?” She listened for something else and watched the entry for a moment. It was nothing. Just her paranoia at work again.

“Yep,” she said and happily chomped into the second roll. Layala wrongly assumed that was for her. “Should I just tell you? I’ll just tell you. Telvian Botsberry wrote that he speculates that you are meeting with the Black Mage in secret places when you sneak off castle grounds at night, definite implication there, and Thane is too busy with the war and pale ones to know what you’re doing. He said you’ll be the fall of Palenor.”

Layala’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious. I’ll cut his hand off for writing such lies.”

“Oh, can I come?”

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