Page 12 of King of Immortal Tithe (Darkmourn Universe 2)

He spun around on the spot, hands raised to his sides and shoulders, shrugging in a signal of defeat.

I watched Faenir intently, seeing how he whispered to Myrinn, whose expression waned. The crowd was so focused on Gildir as he pointed his finger over them, they did not notice the interaction with the remaining fey.

Faenir boiled with anger. His forehead was furrowed with countless lines, I was certain each one told a story. Even Myrinn looked flustered as she replied. Then the strangest thing occurred. Faenir raised his hand in gesture, and she flinched, stepping back from it in a hurry.

A chill sliced down my spine. I couldn’t fathom what I had witnessed between them, nor could I have time to work it out as the crowd exploded around me. This time, it was not all from cheering. Three of the elves had chosen and those waiting somewhat patiently for their chance were growing impatient. Much like Auriol.

By the time I looked back to Faenir and Myrinn, there was not an ounce of tension between them. Well, not from Myrinn at least. Faenir seethed silently at her side now with a noticeable distance between them.

Gildir had claimed a stunning girl with curls of ginger hair that circled her face in a halo. She reacted calmly to his touch upon her head, however, her eyes brimmed with undeniable thrill. No matter how hard she tried to keep her composure, I could see the truth through the cracks of it.

“Whose up next?” Gildir asked as he passed the remaining two. Frila laughed again, silenced only by Haldor, whose burning stare shot upon her. “May I suggest it be you, sister? Leave the best for last, I think…”

Myrinn shared a look of sympathy with Faenir before sweeping off towards the crowd with a glowing smile. As she did, I caught Gildir whisper into his Chosen’s ear. The girl spluttered a cry and practically threw herself away from Faenir, who tried to pretend as though he had not noticed.

But he had. The pain in his golden eyes told as much.

I knew Auriol was safe from being chosen by Myrinn. Never, in Tithe’s history, had an elf picked a claim of the same sex. It was a strange concept, to only limit yourself to those opposite to you. Tithe was a place where sexuality wasn’t restricted, and it was always a concept of the Choosing I never understood.

When Myrinn passed Auriol, she gifted her a brilliant smile. Auriol, who had only even come home with a boy’s name on the tip of her lips, shuddered at the Elven woman’s presence as though she would happily have thrown herself before her.

But alas, Myrinn moved on and ended up claiming a strapping young man who towered beside an extremely disappointed Tom. For a moment, I had believed it was him and felt almost disappointed that it wasn’t. For my sake, more so than his.

“It will not happen to me, will it?”

I tried to hide my grin as I looked at my sister. Her mismatched eyes scanned my face as though looking for a reason to hate me for my happiness that she was right. I couldn’t do it to her. Even though I prayed to anything or anyone that would listen for her not to be taken, I still wished she would have another moment of wishing. Because when this was over, as she promised me, her want for this chance would be left behind.

“One chance you said. There is one more left to claim,” I murmured in support.

Faenir.

“Your turn, brother,” Gildir called out again before Myrinn even had the chance to join her siblings. “Don’t keep us waiting.”

Faenir did not move. His hands balled into fists at his sides, his chest heaving, as though he shared the same anxiety as I. Then he said a word I did not expect. “No.”

Gildir laughed to the horror of his Chosen. “Go on, Faenir. Place your hand upon the one you find most alluring and see if she still stands long enough to return home.”

“I will not indulge in this fantasy.”

“Faenir.” It was Myrinn who spoke up. “Please, just try.”

“You know what will happen.”

“Grandmother will not be pleased if you do not follow custom.”

We all watched in complete silence at the interaction. Dameon leaned down from the podium, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “There seems to be a problem. Accept our apologies if we have disrespected you in any—”

“Silence yourself,” Faenir snapped, whipping his temper towards the Watcher, who practically fell back on his arse. The shadows of the tree which the sun cast upon the street seemed to shiver. I blinked, and they were still once again.

“Perhaps it should be left,” Myrinn added quickly, unable to keep up her façade that everything was fine by smiling.

“This is your chance,” Gildir said, as if reminding Faenir of something. “To prove her wrong.”

Faenir stepped forward, looking from the elf to the line of confused, silent humans.

Myrinn considered her thoughts. “If you do not want to do this, then I will petition Grandmother for…”

Faenir raised a hand into the air, his fingers twitching as he did so. “As always, cousin, my hand is forced. This is what she wants, then I will do as she wishes.”

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