Page 58 of Magic Hunted
Heat infused my cheeks because that’s exactly what I had been doing without knowing it. Because I wanted to. As though it were perfectly natural. There was no knee-jerk urge to run. To deny. The storm that was usually churning inside me lacked it normal viciousness, and had simmered to a wary stand-off. There were no thorns sticking in my ribs, tearing up my throat and lodging into my brain.
Savvas’ smile deepened as I stared at him. Knowing. This was an orchestrated plan of theirs to secure their mate. That affection was more powerful than force, but my panther merely nodded her head, happy with her mates’ attention. She eased her body to the ground, put her head on her paws and closed her eyes knowing her human side was safe. She and I were in sync and I didn’t know what to be more worried about. That I had accepted my panther as the other side of my soul and she had claimed her mates, or that she wasn’t worried because inevitably her human side would follow.
Chapter Thirty
Metallic clanging caught my attention on the far side of the village. As panthers, we’d run all over the cavern, through the village and the fields, exploring every square inch. The clanging came from the direction of the fenced-off area that reminded me of the stronghold training field.
“If the elves are training, I want to see,” Ashir said. His face hardened, his softer side replaced by the alpha dominance of ruling over a pack.
We changed from our wandering course and made our way into the village. As we walked closer, the dry rattling of the warbugs made bumps scatter over my skin. Dias and Savvas grew as watchful as Ashir as we stepped past a row of barrack-like huts and onto a cleared area surrounding the training pits. My nerves pulled into tight awareness as the half I’d shrugged off stole over me like a familiar cloak.
Two warbugs were in the middle of the training pit, elves atop them. They charged toward each other. The bugs’ massive tarsal claws stabbed into the sand, spraying it everywhere and the elves clashed swords as they passed each other. One elf leaned back, clasping the reins, fighting to stay on top of his bug as it skidded along the fence line. The other elf wrenched his reins, straining at the stirrups and falling sideways. The warbug pivoted, sand flying, and charged at the struggling elf.
The elf leaned sideways and brought his sword down. The struggling elf lost his hold on the reins and fell to the ground. His warbug skittered toward one of the tunnels along the cavern wall and disappeared into the darkness.
The elf still atop his warbug leapt off and strode to the fallen elf. I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Titan paid mistakes like that with punishment. I’d been stuck in a pitch black hole too narrow to sit for more than two days for the mistakes I’d made while the master of war had trained me. The old bastard had hated me from first sight and hadn’t softened in all the years he’d trained me. If I ever had the chance, I would return some of his hard learned lessons personally.
The elf slid his sword into his sheath and held his hand to his fallen companion, helping him to his feet. The massive warrior grinned, his teeth stark white in his pale face. The elves watching around the fence cheered, the sound thunderous.
Taredd leapt through the fence railing and walked toward them. He slapped one on the shoulder, his hand staying there as he spoke to them both. There was no yelling or cursing.
Or whipping.
“What is it?” Savvas’ brow creased as he looked at me.
I mentally shook myself, forcing the training I’d left behind ten years ago from my mind. I offered him a small smile, my face tight. “Nothing of importance.”
Taredd spotted us from the middle of the training field, his eyes narrowing. He dismissed the elves and made his way to us, coordinating his body through the fence railings. He spoke to the elves crowding around the fence. One stepped forward and nodded his head. As Taredd approached us, the elf commanded the rest, who’d stepped through the railing and into pairs to practice their sword play.
“We’ll see if we’re still welcome considering we’ve seen all this,” Dias said.
I knew what he meant. Training and fighting techniques were kept secret in the stronghold. Titan didn’t like other territories, or other members of The Six, knowing what his warriors were capable of.
“How did your panthers like our village?” he asked when he was close enough.
“You knew we’d Changed?” I gaped at him. Now that I thought of it, it was strange we hadn’t run into many elves during our run.
Taredd’s gaze traveled past the alphas to land on me. “Not much goes on in this village without someone knowing.”
“Doesn’t it drive you insane? Living here like this?” I asked. After only a few days I was desperate to see the sun.
“Being here has kept us safe, but there’s always a risk. I know if any of the imposters knew we were here, they’d decimate this entire village,” Taredd said, and I agreed.
“They’d relish it,” I said, fighting off a chill skittering down my spine. I’d spent years witnessing not only Titan’s depravity, but that of the others. They all were as sick as each other. Not a trace of humanity left in them, as though the years they’d lived had burned it all away, leaving insanity in the empty husks of their chests.
“They always had that trait, but they’ve only grown worse,” Taredd said.
He gestured at the training area where the elves trained. We walked with him as he guided us toward the fence.
“If they were once human, they’re nothing like that now,” I said. The Six were monsters. Any humanity they’d had was burned away eons ago.
“The magic corrupted them but only made them a worse version of who they were. Titan, the imposter ruling your panther territory, worked in law enforcement when the tear between our worlds was opened,” Taredd said.
A muffled yelp stole my attention as one elf landed on the sand. His sword flew into the sand as his partner knocked it from his grip with a clever twist of the end of his sword.
My mind stuttered. It was barely imaginable Titan being anything other than the creature he was today.
“He was a warrior?” Savvas asked, leaning against the railing.
