Well, didn’t that just figure? Delbin ground his teeth together. “So much for not banishing me.”
“You’ll never be exiled again,” Ralan said in an absent tone. “But I’m not certain you’ll ever live here.”
A shiver captured Delbin, and his eyes snapped up. He shouldn’t ask. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Death?”
Ralan blinked as though returning to himself. “I wasn’t talking about death. When all of this is over, you’ll have to decide where you belong. The choices may be broader than you think.”
Delbin snorted. “Clear as mud.”
“What?” Inona asked.
Lyr also looked puzzled, but Ralan chuckled. “An Earth saying. Trust me, it’s sometimes just as hazy and frustrating for me.”
Trust me. How many people had said that to him over the last century? Delbin straightened. “There’s a lot of faith expected from me and little done to earn it.”
Ralan waved a hand. “You know I was using that loosely.”
“I do,” Delbin answered. “And I’ll work as your apprentice. But you’re right when you say I’ll have decisions to make. At this point, I have no idea where I belong. Trust? After Moren lying to me about my family, I’m not sure when I’ll find that kind of certainty again.”
Beside him, Inona shifted back, a subtle retreat. Did she think he spoke of her? In the short time he’d known her, she’d done more than anyone save Grunge to earn his trust. She’d believed in him, championed him. But with the others looking on, he couldn’t explain without embarrassing her. Inona held her feelings too close for that.
Shoulders slumping, Delbin ran his hand through his hair. “Is there a place I can rest?”
Chapter 9
Delbin leaned against the window frame and stared into the forest. It was so strange here after a century in the human world, especially in modern times. No rush of cars on roads, no shouts—none of the countless noises of life that made their own human symphony. Sometimes, he’d catch an echo of a voice or a child’s laughter from the ground below his tower window. Mostly there was only the hissing of leaves brushing together in the breeze, birdsong, and the chittering of small forest creatures.
Somehow, Earth forests never seemed so still.
He’d done nothing but stare outside in the hour since he’d been shown to his room, a round chamber beneath Ralan’s. The guard, Kera, had said Lyr’s bonded had stayed here for a brief time after her arrival. A lady from Alfheim, home of the light elves. Delbin grinned. He knew a couple of pagans who’d lose their shit if they met one of the Ljósálfar of Norse legend. Not that the humans knew what Delbin truly was. He’d trusted no one with that.
He settled his forehead against the window frame and closed his eyes. What was he going to do? Delbin had longed for home for so many years, but now that he was here, it felt foreign. Yet the human world wasn’t really better. He could never let anyone too close without fearing they’d discover the truth about him. Humans couldn’t get past their own tiny differences. What chance did elves have of living an open, peaceful life on Earth?
None.
A knock sounded. Delbin shoved away from the window and spun to face the door. He sent out a delicate mental probe to see who was there and then cursed to find Ralan’s shield inhibiting his powers. Great. With a scowl, Delbin marched to the door and jerked it open. Inona’s stunned face greeted him.
“Is it a bad time?” she asked.
Delbin ran his hand through his hair and forced himself to settle. “Not really. I’m just on edge right now. And tired of feeling helpless.”
She canted her head. “Helpless?”
“Why don’t you come in?” Delbin asked instead of answering. No need for an audience if anyone happened to be nearby.
Though Inona peered at him curiously, she shrugged and strode into the room. She waited until he’d closed the door to speak. “Is there some kind of secret?”
“Nah. Just my own embarrassment.” Delbin gave a sheepish smile. “I was annoyed because of Ralan’s shield around me. I feel like I have no control over myself. Like a kid whose parents don’t want him to cause mischief with his magic.”
“Ralan seems like a good judge of character.”
Delbin’s mouth dropped. Was that some kind of dig? Her expression held no sign of humor. “One hundred and sixteen might be young yet, but I promise you I—”
“Oh, stop,” Inona said. Then she started laughing. “That was too easy.”
“You—” He snapped his mouth closed. Inona was teasing him? Yeah, he needed to take advantage of that. “Ah well, you might be old, but you brought my troublemaking self here. I guess you can’t say much.”
She tapped her foot. “Old? I’m four hundred and eighty-nine, not five thousand.”
“Wow, over three hundred years older than I am.” Delbin grinned. “I can’t believe I’m attracted to someone so ancient.”
Her expression went blank at his words, and he realized what he’d just confessed.
Damn.
A strange blend of hope and fear froze Inona in place. He was truly attracted to her? Gods, she wanted nothing more than to act on that. But Delbin might not return to Moranaia for good. She couldn’t fall for someone else who would have to leave, even if it would be willing this time.
“I can’t stand uncertainty,” she whispered.
Delbin rubbed the back of his neck. “What? Where did that come from?”
“I’ve had my own trouble with upheaval.” Inona let out a sigh. Should she reveal the whole sad truth? “I want to get to know you better, but with your life so uncertain, I’m not sure I should.”
Delbin stared, face slack with shock. Then he ran his hand through his hair again, leaving the blond strands tumbled in disarray. “Did someone hurt you?”
“He wasn’t my soulbonded, but I loved him,” Inona found herself confessing. She swiped at her suddenly wet cheeks, and her face heated at the show of weakness. “We’d only been together for a couple of years when a feud started with a neighboring estate. Keth was a minor lord, his holdings small, but he had ambition. Against orders, he retaliated against the other family in hopes of consolidating power.”
Delbin’s brow rose. “Just like that?”
“It really did seem to be out of nowhere.” She lowered her gaze. “To this day, I don’t know why he chose such a thing. Although I suppose he was never the same after his mother’s death.”
Delbin stepped closer and brought his hands to her shoulders. “You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
Inona’s eyes shot up. “I—”
“I mean it,” he said. “I know what it’s like to look back and wonder. But I’ve been in enough minds to know that there’s no changing people. Even when you can control them, coerce them. In the end, only they can change themselves.”
Her lips twisted. “Not something Keth seemed interested in. Gods, what a mess that was. After his exile, I spent a solid decade wandering Moranaia. It was a while before life felt solid again.”
“Inona…” Delbin slid his hands down her arms and twined his fingers with hers. “I get it. I do. But I suppose I’m too used to being around humans. I’ve seen so many of them live and die in such a short space of time, and it’s taught me to take happiness where I can. If you’re not interested, I understand, but I’d hate to lose this chance to be with you.”
Could it be that simple? She’d held on to so much hurt for so long, forever cautious of those around her. Yet here she was, caught in the middle of a royal plot with a man she would have dismissed as a criminal. Maybe it was time to let go, at least a little.
Suddenly, Delbin smirked. “Hey, don’t forget I could get offed by Kien. I’d at least like to have dinner with you first.”
An unexpected laugh slipped free. “I suppose we can do that.”
Delbin tugged her closer, and she let herself settle against him. As his arms wrapped around her waist, he gave a questioning glance. Inona stared into his eyes for a mome
nt and then nodded. Yes. Even their long lives were too short to squander happiness.
He lowered his head, and his lips brushed hers. Soft and tentative as an early spring breeze. Inona’s eyes slid closed, and her sigh mingled with his breath. It was bliss to be held like this, a luxury she rarely allowed herself. It was time she allowed herself more. Her hands slid to his cheeks as she rose up.
And took the kiss deeper.
When Inona finally pulled away, they were both out of breath. Delbin eyed the bed and bit back a groan. Nope. No way she was ready for that. Hell, he didn’t know if he was. He closed his eyes and lowered his forehead to hers. So much in his life was uncertain, but he was sure of one thing. He wanted to get to know Inona better.
He found a slow smiled curving his lips as he leaned back to meet her gaze. “Do you think we’ll be able to stay out of trouble long enough for that dinner?”
She chuckled. “After the kind of day we’ve had, I’m not taking a guess.”
A knock sounded at the door, and Delbin stifled a curse. Once again, he couldn’t scan the person on the other side. Normally, he’d have seen if he could ignore the knock and follow the urge to kiss Inona again. Annoying shielding.
He marched to the door and jerked it open, only to find a scowling Ralan on the other side. “I’m rather occupied,” Delbin said.
“I can tell,” the prince replied sharply. “I’d appreciate if you’d stop projecting.”
Delbin’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about? You have me locked down.”
“From everyone but me,” Ralan grumbled. His expression would have been amusing if Delbin wasn’t so annoyed. “It’s my shield, so there’s a link. Cut it out.”
Delbin stared at the prince for a moment. Then humor won out over annoyance, and he laughed. “Sorry.”
“I can see how sympathetic you feel,” Ralan said, though his expression had lightened.
“I suppose we should get to work.” Delbin glanced back at Inona. “After dinner.”
Ralan waved a hand, and a smile twisted his lips. “I suppose I’ll be generous. I’ll get back to you later.”
As the prince departed, Delbin turned back to Inona. He felt somehow lighter, as though the darkness of his brother’s betrayal, a brother he’d never even had the chance to know, had been at least a little counteracted. There was pain, but there was also hope. He had no idea what would happen when he helped Ralan hunt down Kien—whether the prince wanted him there are not.
But for the moment, Delbin was alive. The future would tend to itself.
Previous Books in Series
Book 1: Soulbound
Book 2: Sundered
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Turn the page for a bonus short story, “The Grove Between.”
Author’s Note
The following short story first appeared in the anthology Against All Odds. It wasn’t written as part of The Return of the Elves series and has no direct connection, although it could exist in the same universe. Who knows? Maybe the Eiana will pop up again.
The Grove Between
Faen perched on the edge between dimensions, two worlds unfolding before him. The tree where he crouched was rooted in his own world, but a different meadow hazed his vision. The pale colors, so much less vibrant than his forest, had his blood thrumming. Such an odd land, this other world. What better place to greet each dawn?
But then she appeared, and he almost fell from his tree.
Black hair whipped in a tangle behind the woman as she ran for the safety of the forest, straight for where he perched. Faen’s hands gripped the nearest branch to keep his balance. A human. Few dared to come to the glade, and none while he’d been around. Much to his perpetual disappointment.
She lifted the pale fabric of her gown high as she ran, and a bright purple cloak streamed behind her. Flashes of color gleamed from the purple, but she was too far away to make out details. Still, it was enough. Only the most important of her people wore such rich garments. But why would this high-born woman be running across the meadow at dawn?
A rumbling bark cracked across the meadow from behind her, followed by another. Then a storm of them. Faen squinted at the horizon. Hounds—and not normal ones, either. Someone had sent spirit hounds after her. His muscles tightened for action even as he puzzled over the dilemma. He wasn’t forbidden from moving between realms, but it was discouraged. And she was human. Possibly dangerous—maybe even a criminal.
But mothers’ blood, he couldn’t leave her to die.
As she neared, her gaze focused on the trail just beside his tree. The path that led to the grove where her people had once called upon his own. Faen winced. She would receive no help there, not since a long-ago lord of her people had declared the Eiana to be yonaiee, foul demons who brought misfortune and ruin. The queens of the Eiana had never forgotten the slight.
The dull thud of her feet sounded between the frantic barking of the dogs. The woman cast a look over her shoulder, then stumbled, a wail of despair slipping free. Faen held his breath as she righted herself, but they both knew she’d never outrun the hounds. Fear pinched her amber-gold face as her gaze lit upon his tree.
For a moment, Faen thought she’d seen him, though that was impossible. He was too much in his own world. But as the hounds streamed across the meadow behind her, she looked up again and let her cloak drop in a rich, purple heap. Birds. Blue and green birds danced with golden streamers, woven painstakingly into the cloth. High-born indeed.
The woman pulled the back of her gown up between her legs and slipped it into her broad sash. With one last glance at the hounds, she gripped a low-hanging branch near the bottom of the tree and began to climb. Her soft-soled shoes slipped against the bark and her arms visibly trembled, but fear drove her up to stand on the lowest branch.
Five of the hounds reached the base of the tree. Their dark eyes fastened on the woman as they circled, snarling. Wary, Faen made no sound as he crept down the trunk of the tree. Though she couldn’t hear him, the spirit hounds might, and he’d rather not fight them with her in between. They couldn’t enter easily into his world, but the between-space that separated his realm from hers? That was fair game.
One of the hounds leapt for the woman’s feet, snapping just a breath away, as Faen grew closer. He’d never reach her in time if she didn’t start climbing again. A second hound leapt, and the woman cried out as its snout grazed her foot. Spurred into action, she turned to scramble farther up the tree. But her feet kept slipping against the bark, and her arms shook so hard the branch she’d grabbed rattled. Each finger’s length she gained took forever.
Why didn’t the hounds go for the kill?
A long growl rumbled out from below moments before the first hound jumped for her again. She jolted at the sound, her body ramming into the trunk of the tree, and the hasty tuck of her skirt slipped free to tangle around her feet. She cast her hand around frantically for the higher branch she’d been seeking, but as the dog fastened on her skirt, she grasped only air. One good tug, and she’d fall.
Faen wrapped his legs around the branch above her and leaned over, materializing his hand in her realm just moments before he touched her. Her brown eyes snapped up at the contact, and a scream ripped from her throat. But he didn’t have time to wonder why. With a heave, he pulled her up. With a stretch of his magic, he shifted her to his world.
Mio couldn’t help it—she screamed.
Her vision went gray, so deep it almost faded to black. Was she dreaming? Dead? The painful pounding of her heart in her chest belied the latter. Then a tingle shuddered through her, passing like a spark from the crown of her head all the way to her toes before blinking away. All at once, her vision was clear.
A hand pressed against her mouth, cutting off the scream still pouring from deep within. Mio choked the sound down as a face came into view. A face—and the body attached to the hand. Her gaze darted arou
nd, then, and her breath seized. The bright forest spun around her as he lifted her in front of him. This was not her world. It couldn’t be.
Could he be Eiana?
Mio studied him, considering. According to legend, the Forest People looked much like her own kind, their skin perhaps a deeper shade of gold—almost bronze—and their cheekbones a bit higher. Eyes a little rounder. He was certainly all of that. But her people had once intermarried with the Eiana, before magic was forbidden. He wasn’t so foreign-looking that she could know for sure. But his clothing? That marked him more absolutely than his features. Tight but soft-looking leather outlined his muscles as they flexed, keeping her steady in front of him. Leaves danced through the braid of his black hair. None of her people would dress so.
Mio shivered as she met his moss-green eyes. “If you intend to do me harm, you might as well send me back to the hounds.”
“Harm?” He asked, his voice lilting softly. “Why would I save you just to hurt you?”
She shrugged. “My uncle has no qualms about it.”
“The one who sent the spirit hounds?”
“Yes,” Mio answered. “Though he won’t kill me yet. Maybe it would be better if you did wish me harm.”
His eyes narrowed on her face for a long moment. “Sent to capture, then. What could a high-born lady like you have done?”
“I have your blood in my veins.” Her mouth pinched tight. “That is enough.”
He pushed back against the tree trunk, the quick motion shaking their branch. “I am but nineteen turnings. No one has my blood, I assure you.”
“Not you,” Mio muttered, though a thread of humor slipped through. “Your people, I meant. The Eiana. Our family still carries the blood.”
The man let out a soft whistle. “I knew humans hated us, but I didn’t know it has gone so far that our lineage would earn someone death. At least not here.”
Exiled: A Return of the Elves Novella (The Return of the Elves Book 3) Page 8
