Page 109
Story: Long Live the Elf Queen
Felt nothing…
… but cold. Bitter cold. Was he dead? Was this hell? An eternal punishment for the lives he’d stolen? It didn’t feel like he had a body. He couldn’t move… was there anywhere to move to?
He felt something now. Shame. His father bested him, killed him with one singular blow? And oh, Maker above, Layala. She was alone with the Black Mage. He left her alone. No, he couldn’t leave her. He made her a promise.
The slightest light flickered. Like a spark in the dead of night. He felt it more than saw it, warming his chest. Athud, thud, thud, beat from somewhere. Was that a heartbeat?
It went faster.Thud, thud, thud, thud.
Heat blossomed and bloomed, melting the ice in his veins, covering his skin.
A glorious light shined so bright it stung his eyes. He blinked back tears, wiggled his fingers, curled his toes. The grass was soft under him. The scent of something burning invaded his nose. Whispers among soldiers started. But his father had his back to him, unaware. Thane shoved up, jerked free his second sword, and in three strides he drove the blade straight into Tenebris’s back.
With a startled, strangled cry, he arched.
“I just remembered,” Thane said in his ear. “I promised her that I’d destroy anyone who hurt her. She didn’t need to be the one to do it.” Tenebris’s legs gave way and Thane wrenched the sword free. Blood pooled out, filling the area around his body swiftly. He thought he would feel something as the light left his father’s eyes and he stared up at the blue sky. Thought he’d feel the regret and anguish that had haunted him for months. But there was nothing. He may as well have been back in the darkness—cold.
“Vaper!” Thane’s voice carried across the quiet battlefield. The bronze dragon rose into the air, and shot over the soldiers, casting a shadow to cover half of them. She landed with a grunt and smoke puffed out her nostrils.
“Yes, High King?”
“Take me to Layala.”
* * *
The thumpingof Layala’s heart and a sudden ringing in her ears made the Black Mage sound far away even though he was so close she could feel his body heat spilling onto her. It couldn’t be true. She couldn’t be his wife—his mate. He was mad…But she wondered what their connection was, and why the pale ones were drawn to her. Rising nausea made her want to vomit. This couldn’t be it. It couldn’t be real.
His palm slid across the top of Layala’s head. Something heavy and round settled there, a halo. Her stomach dropped. Maker above, not a crown. Not for him. In her shadow on the stone floor, she saw the outline of stars poised above her head. Holy Maker above, she’d seen the likeness of this headpiece before in the temple on the goddess with the serpents wrapped around her arms and…. Blooms at her shoulders.
A dragon’s roar made them both look at the door.Please be him. Please.Varlett quickly disappeared, and Mathekis tensed, watching the entry with a narrowed gaze.
“Thane, I presume,” the Black Mage said with a smirk. “I cannot wait to meet whoever it is you so desperately want to see. ThisThaneyou believe can save you from me.”
Layala felt sick. A creeping feeling that somehow the Black Mage would know Thane, overwhelmed her. Just like he knew her. That somehow the three of them were connected. She couldn’t fathom how but deep down that knowing enveloped her. The same way she knew she would stop Prince Yoren’s dragon’s fire from scorching her and Thane. The same way she knew to touch the protective shield and it would not burn.
Dark messy hair and Raven armor covered in dried blood appeared in the entryway. Thane peered inside, and with darkness creeping in and a rumbling like distant thunder, he stepped through the barrier. Piper and Ronan tried to follow him, but the magical force barred them.Piper’s fist crashed into the invisible shield.
“Thane!” Layala cried in relief. He would break her free of the Black Mage’s hold, surely and together they would take him down.
He raised his sword, the point of it leveled at the Black Mage. “Get your hands off her.”
The Black Mage’s eyes flashed wide for a moment then his finger slid down the side of her face and down her neck until he cupped her chin. His piercing gaze locked onto Thane. “I should have known it would be you, War. Oh, I should have known. The gods wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Mathekis withdrew his sword and in his commanding tone said, “Leave us, Prince.”
“I am the High King of Palenor. You do not commandme.” His booming authority demanded respect.
The Black Mage’s eyes smoldered with delight. “He’s much more than that. He’s the god of war. Tread carefully, Mathekis.”
Mathekis halted, looking at his lord with confusion.
What in the realms is he talking about?Thane, the god of war?
Thane’s lips parted and his brows furrowed, but he blinked a few times, and something shifted in his gaze, a spark of recognition.
The Black Mage looked to Thane and said, “You did something, didn’t you, War? To block me from her? One of my own spells perhaps? Clever.” Layala blinked…Holy shit, she only started hearing his voiceafterthe mate bond was broken. “She looks perfect doesn’t she, cousin, in her rightful crown? Our goddess. The one we both desired.”
Did he just call Thane, cousin? How can that be? Unless they’re cousins from… before. Was Tenebris even truly Thane’s father?Layala’s heart beat even harder. A memory just out of reach itched at the back of her mind. Why did this sound so wrong and yet… so right?
“I said, get your hands off my mate,” Thane barked, stepping closer but with trepidation. They met eyes. Thane looked worried the Black Mage would hurt her.
“Yourmate? Oh, dear me.” He smirked. “This might hurt a little.” Thane looked as confused and furious as Layala felt. “I’ll catch you up. I won her over first and you stole my wife from me. You started a vicious war the realms had never seen before.” He paused to lick his bottom lip.
Layala gulped.The book at the dragon court—the war between the gods and realms Thane spoke of.
“You may have had her for a time but she’s my wife. My mate.” He swung her around, and then snaked both his arms around her waist, pulling her back flush against his front. To her disgust, his magic still controlled her completely. “I forgot to introduce myself. How silly of me. I am Hel, god of magic and mischief. The magic I was born with, the mischief was earned. King of Villhara, husband to Valeen, goddess of night. You know her as Layala.” His tongue slid across the edge of her ear. “Don’t worry, love, together we will get back home, and all those who sought to punish us will bow and profess,long live the queen.”
* * *
To be continued in book 3: Fate Calls the Elf Queen.
Table of Contents
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