The Tears of Elios

by Crista McHugh

  His cheeks burned as he spread his cloak on the ground near the fire. “Aemil thought we would enjoy shared accommodations.”

  “He did?” Her voice sounded more amused than slurred. “And what are you doing now?”

  “Preparing to go to sleep.” He sat on the stone floor and stretched his legs out in front of him. “You can have the bed.”

  She pulled the covers up to her waist. “But you're the one who's been complaining about your aching back the last few nights. I thought you couldn't wait to sleep in a real bed.”

  “Chivalry, my lady.” He lowered his head to the ground and tried to find a comfortable position. The stones dug into his body, and he envied the sound sleep she would have on the soft feather mattress.

  “Gregor,” she called to him in a singsong voice, “the bed is big enough for the two of us.” He sat up and saw she was still sitting in the same position. She patted the space next to her, and his throat tightened. “I don't mind sharing a bed with you if you don't mind sharing a bed with me. I won't bite.”

  It was not her he was worried about—it was him. She would be lying next to him, all warm and soft with only a thin piece of material covering her delicious skin. He dwelt on the thought as he stood and walked around the bed, his gaze never leaving her. He kept hoping that she would change her mind and remove the temptation, but her smile broadened as he sat on the bed. He turned away from her, afraid his face would display his thoughts. “Ranealya, I—”

  “Lie down, Gregor. You deserve a good night’s sleep.” Her attention returned to the door, and she remained still as he lay beside her.

  By the Goddess, the bed felt good. The tension faded from his sore muscles as he pulled the down quilt up to his chest. She was right—he had missed sleeping in a real bed. He sighed and stretched his arms and legs.

  “That wasn't so difficult, was it?” She continued to watch the door.

  Not as difficult as he was making it out to be. She gave him plenty of space. He could behave himself and still enjoy the bed. “Aren't you going to lie down?”

  She focused her attention back to him, and her expression changed. It reminded him of the one she wore when he held her in his arms moments ago. “I suppose I should.”

  His mouth went dry as she stretched out beside him. She hovered over him, her hair creating a silky brown curtain against his cheek. Her finger traced the slope of his nose, the angles of his cheekbones, the curve of his ears. His body grew warm, and he knew it wasn’t due to embarrassment this time. She lowered her head, and he forgot to breathe as her lips brushed his. She withdrew so that only the tips of their noses touched and sighed.

  A few seconds passed before he realized she’d just kissed him. He released the breath he had been holding as she lifted her face from his. His hand reached for her shoulder, not wanting her to leave. “Ranealya—” he began, but she shushed him.

  “No talking,” she purred. She tucked her hair behind her ear before descending upon him once again. This time, her lips were more demanding, her kiss hungrier than before. Her fingers wrapped around the ends of his hair as her tongue teased the opening of his mouth. He tried resisting her, but the pounding of his heart reverberated throughout his body. He pulled her tighter to him so she could feel it, too. She gasped as his mouth devoured hers.

  He pushed her back into the mattress, his appetite for her becoming insatiable. She made a sound of contentment, as if she were enjoying a good meal, which made him want her all the more. Her tongue danced circles around his, and she pulled his face closer. His hands worked themselves free and cupped the curves of her body, but his lips didn’t want to leave hers.

  He succumbed to the need for air and pulled away at last. His pants were growing uncomfortably tight as he watched the rise and fall of her breasts through the linen shift. Her cool hand stroked his cheeks as she directed his gaze up to her eyes. He had seen many primal emotions in them before—fear, anger, pain—but this was the first time he had ever seen pure, raw desire. Pleasure rushed through from knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her, and he was absolutely ravenous.

  She nipped at him, and her hand moved from his neck to his chest. Her fingers fumbled with the ties of his tunic as her eyes held his, daring him to take this further. When he lowered his head again, she met him halfway. Their lips crushed together as their bodies became tangled with one another.

  He pulled his lips away and trailed them along the creamy flesh of her jaw and neck. She tasted delicious—like sweet berries and cream—and he wanted to savor every moment. She whined in protest, but he refused to yield.

  “Gregor,” an unexpected voice said behind them.

  Gregor wrenched himself away from her and rolled over onto the other side of the bed as Ranealya yanked to the covers up to her chin. Any evidence of his desire fled from his body.

  For a second, he considered murdering his cousin.

  Aemil stood in the doorway with a triumphant grin. “I had come up here to apologize for my presumptions, but I see I was right all along. Carry on, Ranealya.” He shook with laughter as he closed the door behind him.

  “Gregor, please secure the door,” she whispered. After he cast the spell, she stretched like a cat awakening from a nap and resumed her normal form, complete with fur, feathers, and fangs. “I thought he would never come in.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean, Ranealya?”

  She rolled onto her side and propped her head on her hand. All the desire he had seen before they’d been interrupted vanished. Instead, her smile mocked him. “I knew he was there, standing outside the door, as soon as you closed it. He was spying on us.”

  “You knew he was there all along, and you proceeded with all this?” He pointed to the tangled mass of covers.

  Her eyes turned icy. “I wanted to make sure he saw what he wanted to see.”

  He rubbed his temples. Everything in his body seemed to throb, some areas more than others. “I don't understand.”

  She leaned closer to him. “Didn’t you notice he was trying his best all night to make sure you bedded me?” She chuckled. “The dinner, the wine, the stories, the room. He wanted to find us in bed together, and I gave him what he wanted to see.” Her voice softened. “Now he’ll be less suspicious of me.”

  He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts or else he’d lash all his anger out on her. “So this was all a ruse?”

  Her expression wasn’t what he had expected when he opened his eyes. For a second, he thought he saw tears glistening in her unnaturally blue eyes. Then her face regained a mask of composure. “Not completely.”

  His pulse quickened with her response. Perhaps she did desire him. “Meaning?”

  She laughed, plopped on her back, and stared at the ceiling. She wound a piece of her tangled hair around her fingers. The bemused up-turning of her mouth irritated him. He was about to demand an answer from her when she replied, “I was curious.” She turned and looked at him, still wearing that irksome smile. “I always wondered what it would be like to kiss a human.”

  “I'm glad you could use me to serve two purposes.” He rolled the edges of his pillow around his face. Not even Ingra had made him this angry. What was worse, he still hungered for her. When he closed his eyes, he remembered the desire that threatened to overwhelm from their kiss. The idea of jumping on top of her and finishing what they started crossed his mind. Maybe then, he could have his revenge and use her to serve two purposes—he would show her who was in charge and satisfy the need that welled up inside him at the same time.

  “Gregor, it's not like that.”

  He shrugged off the hand she placed on his shoulder and glared at her. If she continued to touch him, he would either burn to death or surrender to her, and neither was a suitable option to him at the moment. “You’re going to sleep on the floor tonight. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

  Her mouth fell open, and he realized that this was the first time he had orde
red her to do something. Her eyes narrowed in challenge, to which he responded by calling open his magic. Blue light glowed from his palms. He wouldn’t hesitate to unleash it on her if she continued to push him.

  Ranealya yanked the sheet from the bed and backed away from him. She muttered something about “stupid humans” as she curled up in a ball in front of the fire, her back to him. A heavy sigh escaped before she bid him goodnight.

  He tried to ignore her, but the throbbing ache returned below his belt as he remembered how she felt beneath him, forcing him to roll over onto his back. As he waited for it to subside, he counted the slats in the ceiling. He wanted to push her out of his mind so he could sleep, but she kept ambushing his thoughts.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the rise and fall of her chest. She was asleep already, the evil witch. He resisted the urge to carry her back to bed, curl up alongside her, and enjoy the luscious curves of her hips and buttocks. He wondered what would have happened if Aemil hadn’t interrupted them, and the throbbing worsened. Even after all that happened, he still wanted her. Not just physically—completely.

  CHAPTER 15

  Kira’s teeth chattered, and she reached for her cloak, only to remember she didn’t have it anymore. Not that it mattered much—it was time to go. Galen was probably waiting for her. She licked her hand and ran it through her hair in a futile effort to make it lie flat before tying a red ribbon around her head. Maybe that would keep it in place.

  She hurried through the camp to meet him at the same place she had before. Unlike last time, her hands no longer trembled as her feet carried her closer to the edge of the camp. Perhaps she was growing more comfortable around him. Yes, he still sometimes took her breath away when he looked at her, but she hid it better now.

  “Good morning, Jaius,” she said as she passed him.

  Her arrival startled both him and the horse whose reins he held. He rubbed its nose and whispered something to it in Elvish. The words sounded like a soothing song, and the animal immediately responded to them. “Good morning, Kira,” he replied, never taking his eyes off the horse.

  Some of her old nervousness crept up her throat, making her voice shake. “Is this my horse?”

  “No, that is my horse,” a voice said behind her. Kira made no effort to hide her relief from Galen as he approached her. “You'll be riding with me again.”

  “But won't that slow you down?”

  He threw his saddlebags over its back. The animal fidgeted under the new weight, and Kira retreated a few steps, much to his obvious amusement. “No. What will slow me down is you on another runaway horse. This is much easier.”

  “If you say so.” Her cheeks burned at the memory of last time. She took a step closer and tried to think positive thoughts about the situation. At least this way, she could lean against him for body warmth.

  “Put this on first.”

  She accepted the folded cloth he handed to her and held it out so it could unfurl itself. It was a new cloak. The buttery wool was unbelievably light, even if it was several sizes too large for her. She wondered how warm it would be as she slipped it over her shoulders and fastened the three clasps. The chill receded from her bones the moment she put it on. “Galen, this is the nicest piece of clothing I've ever owned!”

  She looked up just in time to see an odd exchange of glances between the two elves. It was as if Jaius wanted to say something, but Galen silenced him, leaving the dark-haired elf with nothing more than a knowing smile. She would have to ask Galen about that later and hoped he would give her an answer.

  After tapping the cloak three times, it shrank to fit her slight frame with the last clasp at the level of her waist.

  “I'm glad you like it. You’re going to need something warm on this journey.” Galen mounted the horse and extended his hand to her, lifting her up into the saddle in front of him. His brows drew together. “Where did you get that ribbon?”

  Her hand flew to her hair. She had almost forgotten that she had put on this morning. “Arlisle gave it to me. He said it would prevent people from thinking I was a boy wearing a dress.”

  “He did?” His voice sounded lower than normal, and she wondered if he was thinking about the inappropriate thoughts that Arlisle had about her. His arm tightened around her waist. “We'll be back as soon as possible, Jaius. Let me know if I need to return sooner.”

  “I will, and may the Goddess grant you a safe journey.”

  The horse jumped into a gallop, and her heart felt as though it had been bucked into her throat. She twisted her fingers in the horse's mane, turning her fingertips white. The scenery whizzed by her in a blur, and she closed her eyes for fear she would become ill.

  Galen whispered in her ear, “Relax, Kira. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She wondered what kind of power he had over her as the pounding of her heart quieted and the blood returned to her fingers. “I believe you.”

  “You should. Remember, I can't lie.” His voice carried a hint of a smile.

  She leaned against his chest, feeling safer with him than anyone else she’d ever known, and opened her eyes. Her body eventually began moving with the horse’s rhythm until she believed they were flying rather than riding. “Where did you send Master Tyrrus?”

  “I sent him to find one of the orbs.”

  “Alone?”

  “No, I sent him with Paleah and Orin.”

  “Where?”

  “Why all these questions?”

  She knew enough about him by now to know he wouldn’t tell her where. He always changed the subject when there was something he didn’t wish for her to know. “I'm worried about him. Before he left, I warned him to stay away from dragons.”

  Galen stiffened behind her. It reminded her of Master Tyrrus’ reaction when she issued the warning. “Why did you tell him to stay away from dragons?”

  She swallowed the lump forming in her throat before answering. It gave her a moment to push the memory out of her mind. “I had a vision the night before he left.”

  “About what?”

  “Galen, please don't ask me to remember all the details. My vision showed him and a dragon and—” Her voice broke on her.

  “Kira, do your visions all come true?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you see something, does that mean it will happen?”

  “If it is a vision about the future, maybe. The visions I have about the past or the present, I can't change. But the ones about the future, I can try to change. I don't think Mariliel would have given me this gift if she didn’t want me to use it to help other people.”

  “Tyrrus should be very familiar with your abilities and should, therefore, follow your advice.”

  “You sent him someplace where there are dragons, didn't you?”

  “Dragons can appear anywhere in this land.” Another cryptic reply to avoid telling her the truth.

  “Yes, let's hope he listens to me this time.” She offered a quick prayer to the Goddess that he would.

  “Have you had any more visions about the Azekborn?”

  “No, not since the one about the wolves.” She heard him chuckle behind her but didn’t ask why.

  They stopped at sunset in a small clearing. The snow still formed thick drifts under the trees there, and she was glad for the warmth of her new cloak as she searched for enough dry wood to make a fire. Despite the chill in the air, a steady dripping from the melting icicles hanging from the branches warned of spring. She discovered a clump of small yellow and purple flowers poking out of the snow. “Crocuses!”

  Galen took the wood from her hands and frowned when he looked at them. “Our time is running short,” he muttered as he walked away.

  She paused from picking the crocuses. “What does that mean?”

  His expression seemed pained as he watched her. “Never mind. Enjoy the first flowers of spring for now.”

  When she’d gathered enough to make a small bouquet, Kira returned to the cle
aring. Galen already had a fire started and a small animal roasting over the flames. A rabbit, most likely. She was glad she didn’t witness him killing it. It always upset her to think about a helpless creature being killed. She instead focused her attention on the flowers, studying the delicate veins of their petals. When she finally looked up, Galen was staring at her.

  “Sometimes I wonder what's going on in your mind,” he said as he turned the meat over the fire. “Not that you’re a complete mystery. Your face is remarkably expressive at times. But I wonder why I can’t hear your thoughts like I can with most humans.”

  She laid the bouquet aside and moved closer to the fire. “Why would you want to read my thoughts? You'd probably find them very boring.”

  He watched her over the flames with those piercing blue eyes, and she began to feel lightheaded. “Perhaps, but I find it odd that you shield your mind from me.”

  Her jaw tightened. “You didn’t bring me with you again because you didn't trust me?”

  He lowered his eyes and smiled. “No, Kira, I trust you. I was just curious.”

  “Very well,” she sighed. “Master Tyrrus taught me that the most important thing I could do was protect my mind from others. He said it was my last safe refuge, and even if I was trapped in a dungeon somewhere, I was free as long as I still had control of my mind.”

  “Surprisingly wise words from him.”

  “Master Tyrrus has his faults, and underneath it all, he truly is a good man. After all, he took me in when my father wanted nothing more to do with me because of my gift. He’s been my only family since then.”

  “Family is very important to you humans.”

  “Isn't it to you?”

  “For me, yes, but I am an oddity among the elves.” He removed the animal from the fire and began carving the meat off the bones on a cloth.

  “I'm glad you're an oddity then.” She accepted the small hammock of meat he offered her. She waited for it to cool down before she nibbled on it. “So why did you ask me to come along? Do you need me to save you from collapsing caverns again?”