Page 33 of Dark Elf's Good Girl

But I learned a long time ago that if my brother thinks it’s a good idea that it is most definitely not. Instead, I know that I can either continue my wandering about the house until everyone else wakes and I’m forced to withdraw into my study or the shadows or I could…

I take the steps two at a time before I fully think the idea through. When I hit her floor, I try to convince myself to turn the other way. I know that this isn’t appropriate, that I shouldn’t be here, especially in the dead of the night.

“It won’t hurt anything.” I don’t even mean to mumble the words aloud but they silence the voices clamoring for me to go to my rooms, my study, to train until I’m trembling and exhausted.

In truth, there might be one reason that I am still up.

After dinner, I saw Calix drinking, ruminating with our father. And when he stalked away, muttering about putting his pet to good use, my stomach dropped.

So maybe I started to wander the halls on the opposite side of the manor, too nervous to hear what my brother had been up to with the human I shouldn’t be near. Or perhaps I’ve been trying to find the courage to intervene. Why? That I am not sure.

I’m sure of less and less these days.

I make it to her door on silent feet, and everything in me is screaming to leave. I put too much at risk just by being here, but my feet slow of their own accord. I stand transfixed outside the door, my ears straining for any sound that will tell me what is going on within.

When I make out nothing, I inch forward until the tips of my shoes are brushing the outside of the door. Still, there is no sound within the room, and I hope that simply means she is alone.

Or she could be in Calix’s room…

Apparently I’m a glutton for punishment because I take off toward the back of the manor and my preferred way up to our rooms.

“It’s not his first human,” I remind myself, as if that will make my heart slow. The damned thing hasn’t been listening to me for a week now. “It shouldn’t matter what he does.”

But no amount of reasoning will cut through the irrational need I feel to protect this woman. She’s not like the others he’s brought home. Protheka hasn’t yet broken her.

I know what it feels like to be broken and bleeding at my brother’s hands, though. I guess that’s why I’m trying to save her. It’s like protecting my younger self, before the reality of my world and family set in and ripped what little good was in me.

What little good a dark elf could possess that is.

I’ve already turned the corner and have made several long strides down the corridor when I hear the unmistakable creak of a door. I freeze, my entire body locking up as I listen for anything more.

Silently, I turn as the door clicks shut and the softest padding sounds in the still air. I know it’s not Calix, whose shoes always click against the hard floors with his heavy struts.

It can’t be…

I take off toward the corner, using my magic to silence my steps. I make it to the end of the corridor, peering around to see long, wavy red hair swishing as she disappears out of sight.

“Isla,” I purr, a grin finding me. “I did not expect this from you.”

I follow her on stealthy steps, stopping at each turn to affirm that she is headed in the direction I suspect. She’s smart enough to check both in front and behind her at each corner, but she never catches me.

I’m on her heels all the way down the steps and she doesn’t know it. As we round to the front door, looking all too inviting in the moonlight with no one else around, I see her speed pick up and my heart leaps.

It’s not a surprise that she thinks she can slip out. What’s more surprising is my visceral reaction to it, darting forward before I can think better of it. Apparently this woman robs me of all rational thought.

As soon as her hand reaches to open the door, mine closes around her wrist. Her entire body stiffens as I wrench her arm back and inadvertently slam her back to my front, pasting us together. I can feel the fear radiating off of her, and I can’t take the chance.

My other hand comes up to clamp around her mouth, my magic pulsing between my fingers to silence her scream just as it erupts from her throat. I can barely hear it so I know that it hasn’t disrupted anyone else in the house.

The lack of sound only seems to make her panic more.

I lean down, putting my mouth to the shell of her ear. “Isla.” She stills immediately. “It’s me. Aiken.”

When she tries to twist, I let go of her wrist, letting her turn out of my hand that is over her mouth. From the tension seeping out of her body, I suspect that she isn’t going to scream again.

Her brown eyes assess me, her eyebrows pinched together and her mouth pursed as she takes me in. Heat shoots down my spine as I watch her, and I take a step back, trying to wipe away whatever that was.

“Going somewhere?” I cock an eyebrow, fighting the smile I want to blossom.

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