Page 76 of King Elijah (The Zemiran Chronicles 2)

Twenty-Seven

KING ELIJAH RANhis hands over the footprints in the snow. He rubbed his fingers together slowly, breaking a few ice clumps apart to fall back to the ground. The prints led through the forest that separated Heyerberg and the frozen river but stopped before meeting the clearing. The wind erased all traces of their direction, making it impossible to see anything.

Elijah tilted his head to the side, his eyes rolling back into dark shadows. When he opened them back up, his blue irises turned as black as a starless sky. Power warmed inside his chest; his anger grew like a mighty dragon. Vivid images paraded through his mind of what he wanted to do to whoever took her.

As the still moment loomed in the air, the sound of nature silenced itself. Darkness fell upon the path leading back to Heyerberg, just beyond the line of trees.

Ominous gray clouds formed overhead, rolling over the terrain. Cries and wails from those running from Elijah’s power filled the air—their panic causing him to hesitate.

No innocents will die, he said in his mind. However, he continued to order the black mist to find and devour anyone who had Janelle—anyone with ill intentions in their heart.

To resist the dark power was no longer in his control. The sensation behind his eyes burned like fiery flames. The black smoke left his fingers again and trailed down the curvy path. The emptiness that came crashing into his entire body when he didn’t feel her was unbearable. Janelle’s presence was gone, and those who took her were going to feel his wrath when he found them, with one missing limb at a time.

What had transpired over the last week was unexpected. At first, all Elijah wanted to do was kill and punish the woman who broke into his palace. But something had changed. He had changed. Not being able to keep her out of his mind drove him mad. He couldn’t stop thinking of her body flush against his, how she tasted when they kissed. Elijah had never felt like that about anyone in his entire life. The bond the two of them now had was beyond anything he had ever experienced.

It wasn’t just the desire for her beauty, but the insane need to protect her at all costs.

When Elijah stepped out of the washroom and saw that she hadn’t returned to the room, his stomach dropped. For a moment, he assumed she had fled again. Pain slammed hard against his chest, and he began to think of how he could punish her for betraying him after their night together. He wondered if it was all a lie.

He searched the rooms of the inn until he eyed Bran through the crack of the bedroom door, lying in his own blood. Elijah knew straight away that she wouldn’t have done that to the old man.

Sorrow and panic choked his heart, drowning out that initial anger and leaving him with want. He was desperate to do everything he could to track down and kill whoever touched her.

Elijah had never felt so much rage as he felt right then. Janelle had been taken, and he was unable to save her.

When they first started their journey, his plan was simple: reach the country of Myloria. Then once they arrived in Newick, he would use Janelle to trade her life for Aiden’s, despite the fight Aiden would put up. He knew Aiden would never allow Janelle to be exchanged for his life. Elijah needed his strongest Elven warrior in their country, and he wouldn’t risk him being taken by another ruler. He was valuable to Zemira, and his army needed their seasoned leader. Aiden was such a fool to go on his own. Once Aiden’s freedom was secured, Elijah would either break the peace between their countries or outright kill Kieran and suffer the consequences of war.

Oh, bloody fucking hell, he cursed in his mind.

Elijah pictured her face to help calm the anger inside him. He thought about how her hair sometimes fell, covering her eyes in a way that made his fingers itch to push it back. He thought about her laugh, the soothing sound that made his stomach flip. The memories of their first kiss and how he felt like his heart might burst into flames as her tongue touched his. He thought about what it felt like to finally touch her the way he wanted to touch her—his long fingers smoothing over every marred and damaged inch of her skin with his affection. How soft and supple she had felt in his hands, responding to every touch like it was the first time.

Elijah pushed back his thoughts before the darkness erased what humanity he had left. He was too afraid to lose himself.

Somehow, Elijah cared about these two siblings more than he had cared for nearly anyone in his life. He wouldn’t rest until he found them both.

He gripped the ground harder, digging his nails so deep into the snow he felt the mud beneath it. He slowly pulled back his magic, feeling it settle back inside him.

Janelle wasn’t there or anywhere nearby. He would need to find a horse.

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ELIJAH TRAVELED FORan hour on foot before he came upon another village. The town was desolate. There were only a few horses and cattle spread about between small stalls near the cottages. Smoke rose high from piles of wood in the town square. Barrels of wheat were strewn across each lawn. Large crates of produce sat in front of a few homes. He didn’t see any open shops like in Heyerberg. The village was quaint, comprised of tiny huts with smoke rising from the chimneys.

Elijah spotted a short man with white hair and several wool blankets wrapped around his shoulders. The man looked up as Elijah drew closer.

“Eh, mate. You must be freezin’,” the man said after throwing a thick blanket over one of the horses.

Elijah shivered, careful not to use his magic. What he had done earlier had already taken a toll on his energy.

He didn’t trust most people, especially those from a foreign country, who may or may not know what the King of Zemira was capable of. The cold finally reached his cheeks, causing his skin to go numb.

“Your lips are purple,” the little man said.

A smile stretched over Elijah’s face. “Sorry, sir. I’ve been traveling for days,” he said as softly and kindly as he could fake. “I’d like your horse, please.”

The man dropped his hand from the horse and blinked, his forehead crinkling.

“Oh, um. My horse is not for sale,” he said. “There’s another town not far from here—”

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