Bound to the Elvin King

by Lisa Kumar

Karcin overcame his stupor first. “We didn’t mean to offend and treat you like a child. We enjoy your presence very much and would hate to see your demeanor change around us because of what’ve we said.”

  “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again. Now with that solved, I want to go to the market.”

  Her abrupt demand had the guards staring at her. Jocin protested. “But…but—”

  “Look, I’m going with or without you guys. You can’t stop me short of tying me up.” She winced. “God, that sounded kinky. Don’t get me wrong. Most ladies would like to be tied up by you, but not…yeah.” Damn, it probably wasn’t smart to practically tell her guard nearly any woman would want to share their beds. “I’ll just shut up now.”

  They wore glazed expressions on their faces. “Okay, who’s taking me to the market?” she asked with a bright grin.

  Chapter 17

  The market held an array of scents and colors that beguiled Maggie’s senses. She took in a deep breath, savoring the fall air as some of her tension leaked away. The sun’s rays shone softy on the assembled carts and booths, adding warmth to an otherwise brisk day. She didn’t even really need the silk shawl around her shoulders.

  Had Cal ever shopped here? If not, Maggie would have to take her. So what if all the elves in town seemed to have poured into the large square to stare at her? It didn’t bother her…too much. Plus, her guards were here to deflect anyone who got too bold, namely young elvin men who didn’t know she was taken and wanted to flirt with the novel human.

  She had a few coins in the little purse hanging from her wrist, but she actually preferred to browse. Though she was only a mile from the palace, a sense of freeness grabbed her. This rare freedom helped her forget her troubles, if only for a while.

  The aroma of fresh baked goods guided her to a small stand. A young elven woman smiled in welcome, her intricate braids swaying as she inclined her head. “Would you care to sample some sweets, my lady?”

  Maggie’s stomach took that moment to rumble, and she smiled sheepishly. “That is very kind of you—and timely. Thank you.”

  The woman placed a few cookies and biscuits in a soft-weave pouch. “Will you be attending the Harvest Festival, my lady?”

  Harvest Festival? When was that? “Umm, I don’t know.”

  “I hope you can make it. Everyone has such an enjoyable time.”

  Oh, what the heck, why not? Screw Talion and anything he said. “In that case I’ll be sure to go. When is it?”

  The elvin lady hummed thoughtfully. “In about a week-and-a-half’s time. It starts on Friday and lasts through the rest of the week. People from all over Eria and farther come in droves to attend.”

  “I thought it was too dangerous for such large-scale travel?”

  The tradeswoman paused in her work and looked up. “People travel together, so there’s safety in numbers and in the combined unit of soldiers yielded by groups merging into one.”

  “That makes sense. Thanks, I’ll mark the date on my calendar.” Which was wide open, especially now she’d stricken Talion from it.

  As Maggie munched on a delicious, soft cookie from the bag the woman had handed her, she glanced at her trio of protection. “Aren’t you guys going to have a bite to eat?”

  Meclin said softly, “We are here to guard, not partake in the market.” He took any sting out of his words by adding, “But I thank you for your concern.”

  “Okay. Have it your way.”

  “Will you soon be ready to return to the palace?” Jocin asked.

  His words deflated Maggie’s joy. Return to the palace already? “Yeah, I guess so.” Maggie glanced at the other woman and lifted up the pouch of goodies a bit. “Thanks again.” The lady smiled and nodded her goodbye.

  As Maggie and her Three Musketeers headed toward the path that would take them out of the market, a loud boom shattered the lively chatter of the market. One of the vegetable stands blew to pieces, raining down bits of vegetables and wood. Maggie clutched a hand to her thundering heart and stared mesmerized at the horrifyingly similar scene. An image of an exploding statue suddenly usurped the chaos unfolding before her. With a sickening drop of her stomach, she knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. Fear danced across her mind.

  She shook her head to clear the haze away. Good thing she had her guards with— That thought crashed to a stop when she glanced around.

  Because of the people screaming and running about, she’d somehow become separated from Jocin, Meclin, and Karcin. Damn, so not good.

  Fear wormed its way deeper into her brain. She needed to find them. Now. But she couldn’t see over the heads of the elves panicking around her. Even standing on the tip of her toes gave her no advantage. She moaned. Why was every tall elf in town standing next to her?

  She headed toward the perimeter of the market, trying to escape the worst of the stampeding crowd. Sweeping her gaze over the area, she couldn’t see any sign of her guys. Anxiety and worry tugged at her. Shit, where were they?

  The crowd around her dispersed, and the realization she stood alone consumed her. What she hoped was paranoia prickled at the back of her neck. All she knew was that she needed her guards—and safety.

  Before she walked a foot, a hand grasped her arm and yanked her into a small space between two buildings. Her heart shot into overdrive, and a scream ripped from her throat. A hand slapped over her mouth, and her cry vanished into the panic of the marketplace.

  Her kidnapper dragged her farther into the shadows, only stopping once they were behind a bin that looked suspiciously like a garbage cart. Fright surged through her like a riptide pulling her under. God, how would she escape? She could barely think over the frantic pounding of her heart. She forced herself to take a deep breath and assess the situation. The scents of evergreen soap and leather filled her nose. From the hard chest her upper back came into contact with, she knew the creep holding her must be male. Plus, there was no way elvin women could have arms of steel like this guy did.

  She aimed a kick at the elf’s shins. He seemed to be one step ahead of her and trapped her legs between his. Only the arm around her waist, not to mention the hand over her mouth, kept her from pitching face forward. She did the only thing left to her—she sunk her teeth into the palm of his hand.

  The man’s grip loosened, and his hand slid from her mouth. She managed to stand up straight as he swore in a couple of different languages, finally ending in one that was familiar. “By the Green Mountains towering above us, Lady Maggie, why did you do that?”

  She froze. That voice was familiar. Where had she heard it before? Closing her eyes, she shifted through her memory until the correct scene lay before her. Alanon—Alalise’s brother. Her dread eased until an unpleasant thought reared up. Alanon was the person Alalise had been warning her about. And the explosion was too convenient to be coincidence, surely.

  Though it was hard to believe, maybe Alalise had been telling the truth. But why would she sell out her brother? Uncertainty reached a fevered pitch in Maggie. If there was one thing she hated, it was that feeling. It tended to make her extremely testy, as did being grabbed and manhandled.

  She released a scream and elbowed him in the ribs. “Let me go. Now.”

  A soft chuckle rumbled against her back. “Sorry, I can’t do that. If you trust me and don’t scream, we can talk and I’ll let you go afterward. If not, I’ll gag you, and you’ll still listen to what I have to say.” As if to prove his words, he slid a length of rough fabric over her check.

  Her trust him? She didn’t like the sound of that, but what choice did she really have? None, unless she wanted to be gagged. “Fine.”

  Firm hands on her shoulders turned her around to face him. Alanon, that platinum-haired idiot, smiled down at her. Her hands fisted at her sides. She’d never wanted to wipe someone’s cheesy grin out of existence more than she did his.

  “You’re one hard lady to catch a moment with.”

  The question was why he even wanted to “ca
tch a moment” with her. Only one way to find out—play along. She shrugged away his hands. “I’m not hard to find. You could’ve talked to me at any time without all this drama.” She waved her hand toward the marketplace to make her point.

  He tapped her on the nose. “Ah, but you have your guard dogs with you at all times.”

  She shied away from his touch and scowled at him. Besides his very presence making her uncomfortable, she found she didn’t want any man’s touch but the king’s. Only Talion’s felt…right. Normally, such sappiness would bother her, but right now it barely fazed her, regardless of the anger she harbored against Talion.

  Alanon had as good as admitted he set off the marketplace explosion. She shivered. Had he been responsible for the one that injured her too? “I can’t help there are psycho elves out there, causing mayhem and inflicting pain.” Her tone left no doubt she counted Alanon as one of those elves.

  His grin widened, and he seemed to read her mind. “True, but I had nothing to do with the one that hurt you.”

  Yeah, like she could believe him. Her whole body itched to flee. “Just tell me what you want. My guards will be tearing the area apart looking for me.”

  “Not to mention the king. He wouldn’t want you getting hurt, now would he?”

  She swallowed thickly. Damn, did he mean what she thought he did? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His smile faded. “Really? It’s not good to lie, you know. Are you sure you don’t want to change your answer?”

  She kept her mouth mulishly closed. Creeps like him didn’t deserve a response.

  “So, you’re not going to humor me? As much as I’d like you to admit the truth, I don’t have much time. We won’t remain undiscovered for long.”

  She released a pent up breath. Finally, she might be able to learn a hint or two about his motives. “Then hurry up and tell me whatever it is that you want.”

  As he seemed to become serious and settle down to business, the twinkle vanished from his eyes. “My sister knows about you and the king. She’ll act the friend, whispering secrets in your ear. You best beware, lest you believe her.”

  “Who’s to say I should trust you?”

  He cocked his head to one side as if in thought before replying, “No one.”

  Great. Just great. He’d practically come out and said she didn’t have any reason to trust him. “You’ve given me this spiel before.”

  “I know she talked to you earlier today.”

  She jumped a little. How did he know? Still, she wouldn’t confirm or deny anything. “Maybe she did, and maybe she didn’t.”

  His mouth firmed. “Well, if she did, keep in mind she views the king as hers. He still confides much in her. Even with your bond, she merely views you as an inconvenience that needs to be pushed off to the side. She believes the king is simply fascinated with the unique challenge you present him right now.”

  Maggie’s heart clenched in a most disturbing way. There were those pesky uses of challenge and confide again. She didn’t like them. Not one bit. Talion should be confiding in her, not Blondie. And all Maggie’s instincts cried out that she was surely more than a challenge to Talion. If she were stuck here, it had to be more than that, though she didn’t know exactly what “more” was. “I really don’t care what she thinks.”

  “Maybe you should. Her husband has long been dead. Some say she had a hand in it. I cannot say what she’ll be driven to do if you stand in her way.”

  A chill swept over Maggie as she stared at him. Alalise had murdered her husband? It was possible in theory. Complete bonds were a rarity, so it was unlikely they’d been connected to such a degree. She wouldn’t have needed him alive for her to stay healthy and sane.

  If she had murdered her husband, had she done it to gain Talion’s notice? Even in a land of gorgeous people, she stood out. Arranging for her husband’s death would have allowed her to shed their bond. And did Talion know or suspect his lovely ex of foul play?

  What if Alalise had been trying to hurt her? If she were guilty of murder, what would stop her from committing the act again?

  Maggie bit her bottom lip. Were Alalise and Alanon both up to something? Could Maggie trust either of them? Should she? Her mind shouted an overwhelming no. “Okay, I listened to you. Now, I’m out of here.”

  His hand shot out, and she flinched. But instead of the blow she thought he would deliver, he caressed her cheek for a second. His blue gaze seemed to soften. “Be careful.”

  Words deserted Maggie. Then the shout of her name, plus the soft stomp of boots, from the market place roused her. She spun toward the opening between the buildings, but so far no one came within sight. Glancing back, she saw Alanon hold stock still before he whirled toward the back of the alley. In no time at all, he slipped around a corner and out of sight.

  “Maggie!” The frantic shout sounded closer now. She frowned. That wasn’t one of her guards. Shit. That was Talion.

  He’d have a million questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer—or even could. Plus, he’d be angry. She almost gave a panicked laugh. Talion angry? That had to be a huge understatement. Furious. Murderously so. Not that she feared for her life, but she’d hear an earful for God knows how long. And he’d be perfectly justified this once.

  Belatedly, her Talion-o-meter blasted a warning. She trembled. Waves of anger not her own inundated her. Beneath it, though, was a gnawing worry that showed her just how concerned he was for her safety.

  She looked wildly around until she happened to glance back at the way Alanon had escaped. That opening shone to her like a tempting beacon. Could she make it to the palace before anyone caught her? Nah, these were elves she was talking about. With their stealth, they’d catch up to her within seconds.

  How did he even know she was down here? One of her guards could’ve alerted him somehow, but more than likely, it was their damnable bond that led him to her. Hiding from him would be impossible.

  Not sure to run or stay put, she bounced on her heels in agitation. What to do? She’d have to face Talion sometime. Time and distance might calm him, but if she took the cowardly way out and wasn’t caught, Talion and his soldiers would still be looking for her.

  Forcing the dread down, she moved from behind the trash receptacle. She might be many things, but a wimp wasn’t one of them. Too bad her body didn’t believe that. Sweat trickled down her back, and each step she took caused her muscles to tighten with ever-mounting tension. She stood in the entrance of the alley, the light from the afternoon sun pouring across her. Quite a few people still loitered in the market, apparently trying to see what would happen next.

  Two details struck her at once. The first—that Talion bore down on her with the force of a tornado, fury leaking from every pore. And two—she hadn’t thought of a cover story to tell him. Her heart thundered so fast it felt like it was going to implode. Telling him the truth didn’t sound wise. If Alanon were right, Alalise couldn’t be trusted and, by extension of that, neither could Talion. Not if he viewed Alalise as a close friend or more. Until Maggie knew the truth of his relationship with the other woman, she wasn’t going to make herself more vulnerable to him.

  As she tried to concoct a plausible tale, her mind spun uselessly. A groan of frustration escaped her. She’d have to wing it.

  Talion lurched to a stop before her, his soldiers and guards almost stepping on his heels. His chest was heaving as if he’d been running or experiencing some great emotion, and a dark expression covered his face. “Where have you been? We have a search party sweeping the market, looking for you. You aren’t supposed to leave the palace without my express permission.”

  She flinched, not used to him being so loud…or quite so imposing. What happened to him being relieved she wasn’t hurt? He’d totally skipped that stage. Licking her lips, she considered what she could say without making a scene. Yeah, right. Like that was possible with everyone already staring at them, and Talion having his freak-out.


  If she talked to Talion here, their bond would be the latest news of the day. “I needed some space.” And you should know why. She stepped closer to him and placed a placating hand on his arm, casting a glance to the nearest crowd of people. “Let’s talk about this in private, okay?”

  He reared back as if she struck him. His voice was tight and clipped when he spoke. “Yes, we have much to discuss.”

  She’d been right. It was going to be one of those conversations where he raked her to hell and back. Yippee. But he, himself, had a lot to answer for, and she planned on reminding him of that every chance she received.

  He held out his arm so he could escort her. She eyed it, pretty sure she shouldn’t defy him right now but not wanting to feel the anger leaking from him. Heck, touching him was the last thing she wanted to do when she was mad.

  Talion grabbed her hand and tucked it into the bend of his arm. “Let’s go.”

  The jaunt back to the palace was going to be a short one, it seemed. Maggie huffed. He walked so fast, she practically had to run to avoid being dragged. The steep incline of the stone-paved path caused her legs to yearn for mercy. Only pure adrenaline kept her going. Hopefully, she wouldn’t trip and fall on her face.

  Okay, he was mad, but he didn’t have to act like a moron. If he thought she’d put up with it, he’d find out how wrong he was. “Can you slow down a bit?”

  He didn’t look at her but slowed his pace. “Can’t keep up?”

  “Not everyone has your monstrously long legs.”

  “You don’t have any complaints when they’re wrapped around you,” he said softly, his profile betraying no emotion.

  She gaped at him. The nerve of him. Had anyone heard? A quick glance around revealed no suspicious behavior, so she figured she was safe. She quietly shot back, “That’s because when your legs are wrapped around me, you’re the one trying to keep up.”

  Talion’s jaw twitched, which was his elf version of a hissy fit. The guards and soldiers either walked paces ahead or behind them. Maggie almost gave a wry smile. So they wanted to avoid his simmering temper, too?