“Layla, I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long… No.” I shake my head, dragging my hands down my face as I pace the length of my front room. “Layla, I think it’s time…” I scrunch my face up. “No.”
Sighing, I throw my hands against the door dropping my head as I push back to try and relieve some of the tension in my back. I’ve been at this for hours, between trying to figure out how to put my feelings into words to flopping on my bed and wallowing in my own predicament. It’s laughable, honestly, that I could be reduced to a puddle like this – by a human no less – and yet… She is the only one who can do this to me.
There is no doubt that I love Layla. No doubt in my mind that all I want on this godsforsaken planet is to have her as mine, to take her away and protect her. I’d give up everything – my station, my dreams, my life – for her. I’d do whatever it took for her.
And that is a stupid thing to feel for someone who might be just a hookup.
“Gods,” I groan. “I’m such an idiot.”
A rap on the other side of my door startles me, and I jerk back, blinking before I pull the door open. Did someone hear me in here?
On the other side is Rylmar, the closest thing I have to a friend here. He looks at me with raised brows, and I stiffen, thinking he’s going to ask who Layla is.
“You didn’t put in for transfer?” he asks instead.
My breath catches in my throat. No, I didn’t put in for the transfer. The thought of leaving Layla was too much for me to bear and I’d much rather stay here with her and never advance than to go anywhere else. It was what confirmed the love I’ve been fighting to shove down because we live in a world where that is almost an impossibility.
But not quite. There are other dark elves, including one of the generals over this area, who has taken a human mate. They just have the power to protect their humans. And I fear what I could give Layla – even though I’ve risked exposure and death to punish those who intend her harm before. If only she knew how these elves used to talk about her before I busted open my knuckles knocking her name out of their mouths…
I just know that we can make this work; if I find a way to tell her. But I can’t tell Rylmar any of this before I at least talk to Layla.
So, I clear my throat. “No, I didn’t feel it was the right job.”
He leans against my door frame. “No?” He eyes me up and down. “Ever since we met you’ve been chomping at the bit to be promoted. You’re turning this down?”
I shrug, turning away and taking a few steps into my room. I feel too anxious to stay still. “I’m looking for something better.”
Again Rylmar’s eyes track my twitchy movements. “You okay?”
I nod. “There’s something on the horizon. I can feel it.” That much, at least, is true.
“It’s always good to trust your gut,” he muses. “That’s what my father said.” One shoulder quirks up. “But then again, the old man got stabbed in the back, so what does he really know?”
“If I’m wrong, may the Warrior strike me down,” I mutter as I look down. Legend has it that the Thirteen gods and goddesses sleep below the mountains, but we all look to the ground when calling upon them. And if Layla were to reject me, I’d rather my patron god just snuff out my life right there.
Rylmar doesn’t know that, of course. Instead, he snorts. “I guess we’ll see which is right, your beliefs or your gut.” And then he stalks away.
The door is still open and I stare at it, steeling my nerves. If I shut it, I just know I won’t work up the courage to go back out there. So, I force one leg in front of the other and when I pause in the doorway, I nearly give up.
But with enough self-control, I manage to get out of my home. My heart is pounding and I feel like running away, but I’m outside and on my way to face my fears.
It isn’t until I’m walking a familiar route that I’m hit with how much I miss her. I’m used to her seeing her every day, but I didn’t get a chance to today–
Wait. I didn’t see Layla on the way to or from the mines today. The thought stills my heart, sending a new, fiercer wave of panic through me. I try to soothe it, telling myself that she just might be sick, and as the thought occurs to me, I realize I should bring her something.
I spot the bakery and head inside, selecting her favorite pastry. If she isn’t sick, then maybe this will help convince her how much I genuinely do care about her. What other male would pay attention to her pastry preferences?
My hands are still trembling when I make it to her house, made more noticeable by the paper the pastry is wrapped in, and I dart forward to knock on the door before I turn and run. But when the door swings open, it isn’t my lovely Layla standing there. It’s her cousin.
My lips curl down into a frown when I see her jerk back to make sure no one caught a glimpse of me and shoves me outside. My stomach swirls with apprehension, the start of the rejection already stinging. Did Layla tell her family not to allow me in? Or do they think I am just a guard here to hurt her?
The door slams behind Amara, and she turns to check the windows, seeming to ensure no one can hear us. My apprehension grows. I don’t understand what’s happening, why this human feels so emboldened to treat me this way. She should have graciously let me – not that I wanted to come in – but the way she’s acting puts me on edge.
“Um, hi,” I start, my mouth painfully dry. The woman will barely look at me, and my heart is starting to hammer so hard I can’t hear over it. It’s going to send me into a panic. “Can I see Layla?”
Her eyes flick to me, then back away, and she shifts her weight from one foot to another. “She’s not here,” she mutters.
I nod. “Well, I have something for her. Could you tell me where she went?”
With an irritated huff, Amara stomps her food and looks me straight on. Her face is a mask of annoyance but her eyes flash with a bit of pain that terrifies me. “She got…” Her voice softens just before she hits me with the blow. “Transferred.”
I stumble back as if she struck me, the last bit of agitation dripping off her face. The pastry falls from my hand, and I nearly follow after it. My heart feels like it’s being wrenched from my chest and I can’t breathe.
“Where…” I stumble forward, the earth beneath my feet tilting, but I’m too determined to stop now. “Where did she go?”
My magic flares. I only really know how to use it to fight, but right now everything in my body is trying to get out, to make room for the pain, and as my veins light up beneath my skin, Amara takes a step back. She watches me with wide eyes, her lips parting as her gaze darts from my face back to my skin.
And she shakes her head.
I grit my teeth, panting as I try to take the pain that is hitting me wave after wave. I’ve never felt anything like this and my magic intensifies.
It seems to make Amara double down on her decision, like she thinks I’m a threat or something. “She didn’t tell you?”
I clutch at my hair. “No, she didn’t tell me. Where is she?” I’m nearly screaming, I think. I can’t hear over the pounding in my ears and I’m not sure if that weird high-pitched sound is coming from inside my mind or not.
“If she wanted you to know, she would have told you,” Amara says with finality, and then she turns, going back inside. She pauses with her hand on the doorknob and looks back over her shoulder at me. “You shouldn’t come back here again.” And then she disappears inside.
My knees tremble, and I fear I’m going to hit the ground. But I can hear a group of dark elf guards coming up the road, and I don’t have the capacity to explain anything to them. Instead, I swipe the pastry from the ground and duck behind her house, leaning against makeshift fences set up here – more to keep humans in than give them privacy.
How many times had I held her up against these planks? Now, my arms feel empty and aching without her in them.
And what’s worse?
She didn’t tell me she was leaving. She knew and she didn’t tell me.
Here I was, coming to tell her just how much I want to be with her, and she cut me out of her life. My magic flares again as the pain laces through me and I nearly burn a hole in the fence. I’ve never felt anything like this, and I don’t know how to handle it.
But as more humans trickle home from the mines, I know that here isn’t the place. I stuff my feelings down as best as I can and trudge back to my quarters, trying hard to swallow my emotions. I don’t know what kind of havoc I’ll wreak when I get there, but I know that I am going to have to let this out one way or another.
This heartbreak, this devastation, is threatening to consume me and I just might let it. Because it seems the Warrior is coming for me after all as my magic claws at my skin again.
I meant it when I said this life wasn’t worth living without my Layla. And now that I don’t have her…
Why should I bother to go on at all?
