Groaning over the thought, Mikail got started on the task of foraging for roots he could use to make a poultice that would assist the woman's recovery from her head injury, denying the entire while that his motivation extended beyond making their trip easier to undertake.
She was right about needing protection, after all. Some creatures making their home in the vast, underground caverns of Vrella were dangerous, particularly the wyrms—large, serpentine reptiles with a venomous bite.
So she'd definitely need the healing his poultice would provide.
It was simply fortunate the ogres' encampment near The Nexus would be safe for a time. They'd killed so many of the creatures that usually took up residence by the lake that Mikail didn't concern himself with the woman's immediate safety, and only returned after he'd gathered the roots to find that she was fast asleep.
Not to mention snoring so loudly it almost seemed to echo off the rock walls.
Shaking his head, he used a dagger to cut the roots into pieces, then crushed them against the smooth surface of a large rock sitting not far from where the human was resting. Adding a bit of water from his canteen to create a paste, he knew the poultice wouldn't be as effective without a few other ingredients such as salt, but it would still speed her recovery.
So he set to work spreading a fine layer of the gray mass across her forehead. In the process, the woman frowned, asking what he was doing on a sleepy tone that proved he hadn't fully drawn her awake, and Mikail didn't answer, silently finishing the task before washing the excess poultice from his hands at the shore of the lake.
Now it was just a matter of waiting for the human to wake up.
Taking a seat across from her, he found himself staring in her direction and questioning his luck. He could be on his way back home now to sign up for the competitions, but was being impeded by the unexpected appearance of a half elf.
And why the hell did she seem so … compelling? Earlier, he'd admired her beauty, and appreciated her determination to take care of herself despite knowing the odds. Now, as he mulled things over, he also realized that though he'd considered killing her to prevent the discovery of Satorala, the thought was actually abhorrent.
But why? What was causing his intrigue in this human? Even her floral scent was attractive, and after several long, considerate moments, he wondered if she wasn't actually … his mate.
Immediately, he scoffed. A human? Specifically one with elven blood in her veins? The idea was almost absurd … and yet it seemed wrong to ignore the possibility entirely.
She certainly wasn't the type of mate he'd envisioned bonding with for eternity, and in her case, such a union wouldn't be eternal—humans were mortal, and for a Dok'aal, bonding with one meant never gaining immortality.
Then again, her elven lineage could change the story. Children borne of a human and elf sometimes picked up more traits from one side than the other, and though this female lacked the physical attributes of an elf, she may have retained the ability to eternally bond.
There was simply no way to know for sure until it happened.
Still, Mikail didn't desire his matehood just for the chance to live forever and benefit from the strength and regeneration such immortality offered. If his prophetic dreams had proven anything, it was that the simple matter of having her in his life was the most important aspect of all, and once bonded, he would cherish and respect her no matter how long they lived or what her lineage happened to be.
So if this half elf turned out to be his, he'd find a way to show her he was worthy of being hers in return.
Still, that was a long way off. Bonding took time, meaning it could be days, weeks, or even months before knowing if she was his—and he had no intentions of chasing such things with this woman.
It was just a matter of making sure she didn't get under his skin, a task that didn't seem easy to accomplish when he could scarcely keep himself from noticing her beauty as she slept. With high cheek bones, thick lips, and long hair he could envision combing his fingers through in the middle of the night, she was admittedly exquisite.
And when she finally stirred by stretching with a low groan, her white blouse pulled tight across her generous breasts—and Mikail didn't feel one bit guilty for admiring them.
The impulsively lustful thought of watching them bounce while pounding her had his cock stirring in an instant, and after his previous trouble with impotency, the sensation was nearly too distracting to pay attention to the human's look of surprise at spying him there.
But he gratefully pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused when she asked, “What are you doing here?”
Slowly sitting forward, she quickly took notice of the poultice smeared across her forehead by dabbing her fingers in it. “And what's this?”
“A poultice that will help you recover. Does your head still hurt?”
She seemed to consider it, rolling her neck a few times before answering, “No, it feels better now. How long was I out, anyway?”
“A few hours. So I hope you're feeling refreshed because we have a long trek ahead of us.”
At that, her ginger gaze quickly locked on his as she retorted, “What the hell are you talking about? I thought you were leaving.”
If only things were so simple, he thought, shaking his head. “That's not possible. If I left you here knowing there's a chance you might accidentally locate my home, it would cause too many problems to count. Besides, I've told you how far you'd have to travel to find the nearest city, and alone, you'd be lucky just to reach the surface. So I'm going to blindfold and lead you to Satorala.”
He thought she might be glad to know he was offering a helping hand, but instead of gratitude, the human denied his claim with a pointed, “The hell you are.”
Mikail quirked a brow. “No?”
“No,” she retorted. “I don't even know your name, let alone your true intentions.”
Groaning, he returned, “My name is Mikail, and my only intention is to keep my home from being discovered by our enemies.”
“Enemies?” She seemed to think that over, then inquired, “Do you mean elves?”
“For one, and we couldn't be certain a half elf like you wouldn't betray us to them.”
Her response was immediate, and rather vehement. “Whoa, hold on a second, I am not half elven. I'm human with an elven witch for a great-great-grandmother. Aside from that, I don't even know any elves.”
Mikail eyed her curiously, finding a significant lack of doubt over her claim. Still, he pointed out, “That doesn't matter. My people will be able to sense what you are, and they won't trust you because of it.”
“But you do?” she asked knowingly.
“Of course not, otherwise I'd let you go your own way without qualm.”
“Then why don't you just point me in the right direction, or lead me to the surface yourself if you're so concerned.”
Mikail nearly growled in frustration, but he could understand her reluctance to travel with him. If their positions were reversed, he'd never trust a human to take him anywhere safely—not that a blindfold would've been a problem. Due to his people's light sensitivity, a Warlord's training entailed spending several hours every day with a blindfold in place to learn how to operate without the use of their eyes.
But her discomfort didn't ultimately matter. One way or another, she was coming with him. Not only did he refuse to endure some form of punishment for risking the exposure of his home, his plan was also the most practical, which he had no compunctions pointing out.
“Leading you to the surface would take at least a day and a half, then I'd have to travel back to Satorala anyway, which is nearly the same distance from where we are now.”
With that said, he concluded pointedly, “So in essence, I don't feel like wasting so much time on you.”
Somehow, the statement felt like a boldfaced lie, but he didn't retract it, silently watching as the human pursed her lips in realizing how impractical her suggestion was.
> In turn, Mikail hoped it would change her mind. After all, it was going to be hard enough leading a blindfolded human to Satorala.
But binding and carrying her over his shoulder was a different story entirely.
CHAPTER FIVE
♦
I just had to get stranded in the middle of Bumfuck, Ithelyon, didn't I?
Kivsey grumbled at the thought, having no idea if she should be grateful for Mikail's offer, or extremely annoyed. Hearing how far it would take to travel in either direction, it seemed he was right, and Satorala was their best bet.
Yet she had serious reservations about traveling to a place where she wouldn't be welcome, to say nothing for her uncertainty about him.
Still, his plan offered a better option than she previously had—which was no options. She could either sit and wait for someone to find her, or attempt to search for her own way home, and probably be killed in the process.
So, putting all doubt over the Warlord aside for a moment, Kivsey knew one thing for sure; she was going to return home somehow, and if Satorala was the only way, she'd take it.
She simply had to ask, “Are you even giving me a choice?”
“Not specifically. So if you'd like to make things needlessly difficult, I can always bind and carry you over my shoulder.”
Pfft, good luck with that, big guy. Though Mikail was certainly strong enough to easily subdue her, The Bastion provided its agents with tactical training, including methods for escaping rope and lock picking. So he could tie her up however he pleased, and the moment he stopped to rest, she'd free herself.
Still, she had no intentions of forcing him to tie her up from the start, nor was she going to educate him on her skills. As far as Mikail knew, he was dealing with a human who relied on guns because she was weak, and Kivsey was perfectly content to let him go on believing it for now.
So she complied by stating, “I won't make things difficult, but I'd like to make a few requests before we go.”
Impatiently, he asked, “What requests?”
“First, I want to leave a message here for anyone who comes looking.”
Mikail shook his head in the negative. “We'll send people to intercept search parties and let them know where you are.”
Kivsey frowned. “You just said we have a long trip ahead, and someone might show up here before we even arrive in Satorala.”
The Dok'aal groaned, conceding her point with a wave of his hand. “Very well, but only direct them to wait in The Nexus for my people to come and explain things.”
“The Nexus?”
“That's what we call the castle.”
Considering the numerous portal spheres in the courtyard connecting with who knew how many worlds, the name was fitting, and more importantly, Mikail's request was reasonable.
So she agreed. “Okay, done. Next, I'm not letting you blindfold me.”
At that, Mikail let a menacing growl, proving he wasn't going to compromise on the safety of his home. But before he could argue, she quickly pointed out, “I can't see well in the dark, anyway. I do detect light better than most humans, but I'm not going to walk so far just holding your hand while trusting you to take me to the right place.”
Thankfully, his scowl softened, albeit marginally, and he seemed to weigh her statements carefully before countering, “You'll let me blindfold you for the first half of the journey.”
Though it was nice to know he was actually willing to compromise, Kivsey exhaled a loud sigh. She simply wasn't keen on allowing a stranger to lead her anywhere in such a fashion, and would much rather guide herself.
Still, Mikail seemed like the type to quickly grow tired of whining and complaining, meaning she could probably throw a stink about the blindfold until he finally gave in and allowed her to remove it. Or decides I'm not worth the trouble and takes off my head.
Eyeing the big Dok'aal quietly, she knew he was definitely capable of such a thing. Yet, if Mikail considered her a burden, he probably would've killed her in her sleep instead of going to the trouble of making a poultice to help her recovery.
She also wondered why he'd do such a thing. Perhaps he wanted to make it home as quickly as possible, and knew the journey would go more smoothly if he offered assistance.
But that didn't explain his reluctance to kill her from the start.
It wasn't as if anyone who came looking for her would know she'd been murdered by a Dok'aal, after all. Yet they would start an investigation, and perhaps Mikail didn't like the idea of these caverns being swarmed with inquisitive humans.
Either way, she wasn't going to ask and remind him of the possibility. Whatever his reasons, I can live with his disinterest in killing me. Literally.
So she finally agreed with his terms.
“Have it your way, big guy. Just let me figure out how to leave this message before we start. Oh, and can I wash this poultice off, or does it need more time?”
He shook his head, indicating she could remove it whenever she pleased. So Kivsey got started on her tasks by adjourning to the lake's edge, grateful the movements didn't cause a huge amount of pain or dizziness.
Once the poultice was gone, she tugged her glasses from the collar of her shirt and slipped them on, then pulled her phone from her pocket and accessed the notepad to type a message.
Mikail moved in behind her in the process, peering over her shoulder to watch, and Kivsey briefly glanced back to see him wrinkling his nose.
“What's wrong?”
“I can't read that script very well.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “We so rarely interact with outsiders that it's not necessary to learn any alphabet but our own.”
Nodding, she finished the note, then read it aloud for his benefit.
“It says Tyrone and I encountered ogres during our investigation, and I wasn't fast enough to save him. The portal sphere was broken during our fight, so I left this place with a Dok'aal named Mikail who saved me and is taking me somewhere safe. He's promised to send a group of his people here to explain things, so please don't come looking for me. Just stay here and wait for them to arrive.”
Looking up, she inquired, “Is that okay?”
Mikail gave a silent nod, so she turned her phone off to prevent the battery from draining, then took it to Tyrone's covered body to place on his chest where anyone looking for them would quickly find it.
Following this, she grabbed a small rock and wrote three distinct words in the dirt next to him.
“Now what are you doing?” Mikail inquired.
“I'm writing the words check my phone, Kivsey.”
“Kivsey?”
“Yeah, that's my name. Jennifer Kivsey.”
Tossing the rock aside, she turned and checked Tyrone's utility belt for any items that might come in handy, which included the flashlight attached. Though she could see better in the dark than most people, her light sensitivity wasn't anywhere close to Mikail's, and she had no way of knowing if she'd need it.
But the only other items Tyrone possessed was a lighter, and a pair of binoculars that seemed like they'd be more useful to Mikail.
So she handed them over with the words, “These might come in handy.”
The Dok'aal curiously took them to open, then peered through the lenses in the direction of the lake, and their quality must've been favorable because he soon nodded in approval, lowering the eyepiece while admitting, “I had a pair of these, but they were broken during a fight. They also weren't as strong.”
Waving a hand as she stood, Kivsey remarked, “Then have at them, big guy.”
The Warlord gave her a questioning look, confusion sparking in his crimson eyes. “You'd give these to me?”
He sounded uncertain, as if finding it hard to believe she'd be so generous, and she shrugged. “I don't need them personally, but come to think of it, if you're going to blindfold me … ”
Recalling his plans, she quickly reached for the binoculars, demanding, “Give those ba
ck, you can't have them unless you agree not to—oh, come on!”
Her exclamation came when he quickly sidestepped and caught her wrist, then moved in behind her while producing a leather bind from one of his pouches that was wide enough to cover her eyes.
Kivsey would've rolled them in turn, but as he plucked the glasses from her face and tied the strap around her head, the brief glimpse she'd caught of his expression distracted her completely.
“Are you smiling?”
“No,” came his gruff response—and she had the distinct feeling he was lying, so curious to learn the truth that she nearly removed the blindfold just to get a better look.
Yet Mikail distracted her by pressing her glasses into her palm, so she took them instead and started walking as he guided her with his hands upon her shoulders—hands that felt rather massive.
It wasn't surprising considering the top of her head was level with his chest, but such size differences were actually a change for Kivsey. She'd always been tall in comparison to most other women, and nearly eye level with the men she knew. Yet Mikail was a giant who towered over her, and she'd be a liar to say it didn't cause a certain amount of intimidation.
Because of that, she decided that immediately complaining about the blindfold was probably a bad idea.
Still, it was entirely awkward being directed without seeing the way forward. She kept thinking she'd misstep and trip, stumbling from time to time even with Mikail's sturdy grip guiding her.
Adding to her discomfort was the lack of conversation, which allowed her to detect some extremely strange sounds in the distance. A few taps here, a scuffle there, all set against the rolling waters of the lake which faded over time, proving they were getting farther and farther away from The Nexus.
Kivsey doubted they could even see it anymore, and felt that should be enough to placate the Dok'aal. But he remained silent, continually directing her forward—and after several hours traveling in such a fashion, she couldn't take it anymore.
“It's been hours now. Are you sure I have to wear this?”
No answer.
Cast Into Shadow Page 5
