Acool breeze from an open window shifted the light airy curtains and brought the smell of lavender and a chill to Layala’s skin. With heat and sweat from struggling against him, the outside temperature felt extra cold. She watched Thane intently, his jaw flexing as he stared down at her, his long dark hair falling around him in a tangled mess. Her nails drew four thin lines of crimson over his right cheekbone, barely missing his eye.
“I won’t let you kill me, but if you can find a way to break our mate bond, I’ll let you go. I won’t look for you, or want to see you ever again. Once the spell is gone.”
Throat too dry, Layala swallowed. “I could take your life right now and not have to worry you’re lying.”
He chuckled quietly, but there was no humor in it. “Even if you were suicidal, it seems to me that you’re not in the position to do so.”
“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” Layala snapped.
“Tenebris believed you would be a powerful mage, but I see nothing before me but someone blinded by hatred enough to kill for the sins of a father.”
The pressure against her lightened as he leaned back, and Thane released his hold on her arms but his body was still very much on her thighs and hips. Her eyes slowly traveled over his body she didn’t have time to inspect before: defined abdominals, thick obliques to be admired, and chest and shoulder muscles that belonged to a warrior, somehow both lean and large, soft and hard. The Warrior Prince, indeed. The knife wound she gave him bled some, but it did significantly less damage than she thought it would. It was only a small puncture.
Thane seemed to take notice of her inspection of him and cocked an eyebrow. “Are you done perusing?”
“Get off me,” Layala demanded.
“Are you going to try to knife me again?”
Layala didn’t answer. She was still deciding what she would do once he moved. “No.”
He lifted off her as he hopped from the bed. Standing at least six feet away now, he watched her sit up. She set her feet on the wolf pelt and stared at him. “Why? You’ve been looking for me all my life and you’d let me go now? Let my magic go?”
“I don’t want your magic. My father did. But in either case, I don’t think you can do it.” He crossed his left arm just below his chest, and with his right hand, he rubbed his chin. “No one has ever broken a bond like ours.”
So there it was. He thought he was giving her an impossible task, which would leave him to use her against his enemies. “I need some proof you’ll keep your word.”
“You don’t really have a choice but to take my word, do you?” He walked over toward the open window and latched it shut. “You have eight weeks. If you can’t break our bond by then, we will marry as planned.”
Layala clenched her jaw, taking in a deep breath. “That doesn’t seem like nearly enough time for something that hasn’t been done before.”
“I know you can feel it.” He stepped closer, his feet barely making a sound as he padded across the stone floor. Her heart seemed to beat faster with each step he took. He stopped mere inches from her, his body heat emanating into hers like the warmth of the sun. “The darkness pulling at you. Threatening. Seducing. I can feel its call. We are almost at the end of fulfilling the promise of this magic. We had twenty-five years to marry, and guess when that anniversary is?”
She gulped. “Eight weeks?”
“When a spell created by the Black Mage like ours isn’t fulfilled, there are consequences, Layala, and we’re almost out of time.” He paused. “That is my reason for wanting you. It’s not your power. We will turn into pale ones if we don’t meet the requirements of the spell, so if I must marry the girl who hates me then so be it.”
Back in the Starlight room, she tossed and turned the entire night, dreaming of pale ones closing in on her and then a wail came out of her own mouth. The hideous cry of a pale one. No! No. No. No. She thrashed around until she sat stark straight, hair damp with sweat, breathing hard.
Heart still beating rapidly, she took in her surroundings. She was in a room at Castle Dredwich, not surrounded by pale ones. But she wanted to see to make sure. Dashing in front of a mirror she stared at her reflection; her skin was still honey beige, not ashen white. Her hair black as ink. She was herself. Even Thane’s mention of the potential to change forced her to consider marrying him right away to not risk the consequence.
And yet, she wasn’t one of the creatures. The heaviness that seemed to loom over her, had to be the unfulfilled mate magic. But she had time. Eight weeks.
“Nightmare?” a small feminine voice said.
Layala whipped around, ready to fight if need be. “Where are you?”
“Down here.” Eyes dropping, Layala found a tiny humanoid female no taller than a foot, creeping out from beside the bedpost. She wore a soft red hat with a pointed tip. Her brown curls tumbled around her robust chest and belly. Cheeks and lips the color of dusty rose and a bulbous nose nearly as red as her hat. Her dowdy floral dress looked like it was ages old with unmatching patched holes here and there, and her toes sprang from worn brown boots.
“You’re a gnome,” Layala said, squatting down nearer to the tiny creature. “What are you doing here?”
“A gnome, I am.” She put a stubby hand on her hip. “And I live here, unbeknownst to the jumbos. Great food, always a warm empty bed even if I have to sneak about. I’ve been in this room the longest, see. It’s never been occupied before.”
A smile tugged at Layala’s lips. “Jumbos?”
“Yes. You are a jumbo. Tall, lanky, need to eat a few more meals by the looks of you.” She put a hand on her belly. “But I knew you were different when you tried to kill the king. I figured you wouldn’t toss me out into the bitter wilderness.”
Chuckling, Layala sat cross-legged. “Me being an attempted murderer made you feel safe? Forgive me if I don’t understand that one.”
“Well, the maids, they’d surely toss me out if they saw me disturbing the royals. The guards, too. But I knew you were none of those. They wouldn’t dream of trying to hurt his majesty.” Her rich brown eyes traveled over Layala. “And not to be rude but your attire and woodsy smell gave you away as an outsider. I thought you might be one of the woodland jumbos. They like gnomes.”
“Fair enough.” Layala tapped her fingers against her thigh. “I am a high elf, but I’ve been among humans for years and have absolutely nothing against gnomes. You’re welcome to stay. I’m Layala.”
“I’m Tifapine, and my friends would call me Tif, if I had any.” She scratched her chubby cheek. “Other gnomes prefer tunneling underground, gardening, being generally smelly but not me. I knew I was different. Mama said I was a romantic and should stick to baking in our hole. But I was meant for more and what better place to be more than Castle Dredwich. I have a dream of being an elven lady’s maid.”
“I think you’re in the right place then.” Layala stood and stretched. “I need to find something clean to wear before the other jumbos arrive.”
Tif snickered and scampered into the closet and Layala followed. She searched for a pair of pants, a tunic, corset, something she was comfortable wearing, but after looking, there were only dresses with tulle and fluffy yards of fabric, florals and lace. She would not be paraded around this place looking like a docile, doe-eyed maiden. Now that Thane knew her true nature there was no need to pretend anymore.
Lightbringer, she cringed at the name her parents had given her, the one that the maids had crooned. Wishful thinking on their part. The power that ran through her was anything but light.
“Anything suitable?” Tif asked.
“It looks like I’ll be wearing the same clothes I came in. Although the outfit is dirty.” Layala grabbed the clothing off the floor, showing the dirt to Tif. Not wanting to get the bedsheets filthy, she’d slept in her undergarments. “It was a long journey here.” She found an attached bathing room with a gold clawfoot tub, a gold sink with a silver pitcher beside it. A vase with black curling branches and peacock feathers in between for decor.
The pitcher was full of water, enough she could wash her clothes as well as her face and arms with the bar of soap. There wasn’t enough water to fill the tub. She assumed the servants would have to bring it to her.
Tif somehow climbed up to the lip of the sink and with her hands behind her, tilting forward and back on her tiptoes, she said, “I can wash them for you. It would be my absolute pleasure, Lady.”
“Auditioning to be a lady’s maid?”
Tif grinned. “If you’d be so inclined as to allow it.”
“I would.”
When Tif finished washing, Layala hung the clothes to dry on a vine near a window and wandered into the bedroom in a deep purple robe she found in a drawer. It barely covered her upper thighs but the silky fabric wrapped around her well enough. She paced over the cool stone floor, wondering where she would even start to find a way to break the mate bond spell. There must be an archive of the Black Mage’s spells, if the one between her and Thane was one of them.
“Oh, I forgot.” Tif reached into her belt and pulled out a small, folded piece of parchment. “A bird brought this. I can’t read but the bird said it was for you.”
“The bird said?” Layala took the tiny note.
“I understand tweet,” Tif said.
“Tweet is a language?”
“Of course.”
It was a note from… Evalyn. I’m safe. Hope you are too. Do what you must then come home. ~ Evalyn
Evalyn didn’t know what Layala did, that she couldn’t kill Thane. But relief washed over her knowing her aunt and Briar Hollow were well.
A quiet knock made her pause. It hadn’t come from the main door. Three more knocks followed. No, it came from behind the fireplace. It took her a moment but there might be a secret door in the stonework.
Tif darted under the bed lightning fast.
Before she could even figure a way to open it, the stone wall moved, rotating to reveal the king’s room on the other side and standing in the entry was Thane. She lifted her chin slightly, putting a hand at her hip.
His eyes traveled slowly from her bare legs up to her face. “I heard you—whimpering earlier. Are you alright?”
“I was not whimpering.” She shrugged trying to feign ignorance to that ridiculous dream. “I don’t know what you heard, but it wasn’t me.”
He was still shirtless, and she had to fight not to look down at all that bare skin the longer he stood there. She was used to it; the men she trained with in Briar Hollow often took off their shirts, but they didn’t look like him, and she didn’t want to give Thane the pleasure of her perusing a second time.
“I wanted to be sure someone wasn’t in here trying to assassinate you.” He smirked as if the attempt had only amused him.
“I’m as well as I can be being attached to you and being forced to come here against my will.” Somehow the claw marks on his face were gone as well as the stab wound he should have had in his shoulder.
“I don’t want to become one of those monsters any more than you do. You can say it was against your will, but I did you a favor. If I didn’t find you, you would be a pale one soon enough. We both would.” He paused looking her up and down. “Perhaps a thank you is in order.”
She scoffed. “As if I’d ever say thank you to a murdering bastard like you.”
“That’s rich coming from someone who tried to commit murder not a few hours ago.” He stepped closer, his face scrunching with disapproval. “I’m not proud of some of my actions, but they were necessary. And you don’t know everything. Only lies and rumors that drifted to your precious Briar Hollow, most of it embellished by their hatred for elves.”
“The hate is for good reason, trust me. And necessary?” She ground the word through her teeth. “Is that how you sleep at night? But that would mean you’d have to have a conscience and I doubt that.”
He straightened up as if she slapped him. “Get some clothes on. I’ll see you at breakfast. Don’t keep me waiting.”
When the wall closed behind him, she stamped into the bathing room to see if her clothes were dry enough she could put them on. Still damp to the touch, she debated on dressing in one of the plain cotton dresses but instead pulled aside the draping vines over the windows and looked out over the Valley of the Sun. “He can wait as long as I please.”
Tif climbed up a vine and perched beside her. “Mama always said when things get heated, get to gettin’, and you two are hot.”
Layala gave her a sideways glance. She had no idea what that meant, but it made her smile anyway.
