Page 99 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
There is a deep ache lodged in my chest, a yearning I can’t quite understand. By dawn, she is all I can think of. I want to see her more than I want my next breath. I’ve never felt an urge so strong. It’s much worse than the need to feed.
I fail to understand why her own people would hurt their queen. One gaze into their soulless eyes, and I know those guards meant to kill her. What if they make another attempt? My mind jumps to the injury on her leg and the bruise from our wedding night.
No.
The thought of something bad happening to her sends me running on all fours. I need to know if she is safe. I’ll paint the whole world in red if they touch her. The trees become a blur as I sprint through the forest. The cosmos sheds some mercy for me when I detect her presence somewhere in the demon’s castle, what’s left of it anyway.
I remain completely still, blending myself in the shadows of the trees. The heaviness eases at the first glimpse of her silver hair in the small room. But nothing prepares me for the feelingthat punches through me when I look at her. It’s like finding a missing piece of my soul.
The elven knights take turns guarding her, giving the queen privacy only when she’s sleeping. Every time I scent a male near her my control near damn evaporates.
Day turns to night, and I keep tracking her, monitoring every movement. I think the bear demon, Ragnar, has noticed my presence. Instead of alerting his lord, I find him placing books and clothes for me near the gates. Another odd one.
I lurk closer whenever Rhianelle is alone.
I can almost see the outline of her curves, her long bare legs stretching on her bed. Sometimes the girl will massage her left leg. The injury had to be repetitive for the bone to become so roughly deformed. Rage blinds my vision at the thought.
For a moment, I remain there, watching the peculiar girl in the dark.
She tries to get out of bed and falls to the floor. The urge to storm into the demon’s lair becomes overwhelming. She stands up with trembling feet to feed the rats in Balthazar’s keep. The creatures form a mutiny the next day to steal her bread. I have to send my familiars to ward them off.
To my surprise, the girl brokers a peace treaty between the animals and befriended them all. Rhianelle is somehow unafraid of my dark creatures of night, not even the ghastly bats. They seem to adore her too, soaking in her attention and care. How strange and utterly beguiling. She smiles at a barn owl and a part of me that is long dead stirs to life.
None of these odd mannerisms belong to Lilith or the past curse bearers.
Rhianelle settles by the window, gazing distantly into the night. Her thumb twirls the silly wedding band around her finger.
Part of me hopes she’ll notice me. The other wishes she never does so I can keep watching her like this. Balthazar enters the room to check on her. I notice the way the demon looks at Rhianelle, I see his appreciation, and a strong impulse to kill him surges in my veins.
The beasts buried deep within me begins to stir.
Mine,they whisper.
I watched how my brothers caved to this animalistic instinct, grasping for more power, territory, women. The beings inside of me never desired anything. They lay dormant for years. I’ve always had complete control over their impulses, to feed, to fuck, to kill.
I want her.
Shut up.
Over two thousand and three hundred twenty-nine years on this godforsaken earth, they choose to lay their claim now?
On the Rhunhraefn’s vessel no less.
Mine.
The thought keeps echoing through my head over and over.
It’s been three whole days. This can’t go on. The setting sun gilded the dark bricks of Balthazar’s castle in a peculiar blue hue. I do regret making it the victim of my wrath that morning. It’s the masked knight’s turn to stand guard. I like his watch best because he’s one of the few who doesn’t touch or talk to Rhianelle unnecessarily. But this bored fucker has the nerve to shut the windows this time.
I wait for him to open it again, counting the seconds in the dark. The last light of day disappears beyond the horizon and my impatience reaches its fatal end.
I’m done waiting.
Dark, feathery wings sprout from my back with one of my easier half-shifts. I storm through the window, the haunting sound of the night wind treading my arrival. The fear in the air istangible as I find myself in the small chamber with Rhianelle and five other male elves.
A long beat of silence passes.
“Took you long enough.” The silver-haired male sitting beside her bed speaks. He is not as severely affected by my presence compared to the rest of them. I realize it is not me he is unafraid of. This male has no fear of death. I smell the familial tie between him and Rhianelle. Perhaps everyone in her family is just as infuriating.
