Page 58 of Elas (Mate’s Mark #2)

August

“Wait,” Ronan interjects, a snarl forming on his lips.

It’s not one of those semi-playful, irritated-but-not-really sneers that he gets so often with Elas, but an actual snarl, and my instincts prickle as his tails fan out behind him.

“Wait just a godsdamned second. You’re telling me Khors is now the commander?

The same moron that couldn’t hit a sparring dummy and flung his sword across the training ring when he lost a match?

Which, might I add, was every single fucking time ? !”

“The very same,” Elas says, his tone simultaneously amused and annoyed.

“Fuck me, the world is doomed.” Ronan scrubs his hands over his face and groans. “That’s the best and brightest the military had to offer?”

“If you’re wondering if he’s gotten any smarter since we knew him, the answer is no.”

Ronan shakes his head, staring at Elas in disbelief.

“Alright, so they placed an idiot in charge of Glaston. Fantastic. At least I can sleep at night knowing he’ll never find me, because after all these years, he never found the stick rammed up his ass.

” I snort, and Ronan almost grins when he glances at me.

“How did that lead to you and August leaving the base together?”

Elas resumes the story of how I unintentionally stumbled upon the files, then the file room. We share what we’ve learned from them so far, and Ronan sits in a stunned silence as he listens. “You said the oldest file is fifty years old?” he asks, and I nod.

“The oldest we’ve read so far, yes, but there’s no way to know how far back it goes. We could just be scratching the surface.”

Ronan shakes his head, moving his intense stare to Elas. “How could this have been happening right under our noses? How could we have missed this?”

“Don’t go down that road, old friend,” Elas says, reaching over to give Ronan’s forearm a gentle shake. “There’s no way we could’ve known.” Ronan is unconvinced, his lips a tight line as he settles back against the chair and glares at the wall.

When we get to the part in the story where we break into the clinic, Cameron’s eyes are wide. “That was some serious sleuthing,” he says, sounding impressed, but Elas huffs and shakes his head.

“It was reckless.” He gives me a pointed glare, but it softens as I curl back into his side.

“So Command… nope,” Ronan grumbles. “I can’t call him that with a straight face. Khors thinks you’re out looking for me right now? And that you’ll report to Ljómur with August after? ”

“Basically, yes,” Elas responds with a shrug.

Panic rises in Ronan’s eyes as he jumps out of his chair, nearly dumping Cameron onto the ground in his haste. “The tracker,” he hisses with a crazed energy, grabbing Elas by the shirt. “Tell me you took care of the tracker in that vehicle?”

“Gods, you really are a drama queen, aren’t you?

” Elas complains, shoving Ronan back a step.

Cameron snickers even though tension has hardened his expression.

“Yes, Ronan, I removed the tracker. Dropped it at Reyes’s camp, so the records will show I drove there.

I thought it might lead them to believe we were attacked…

lessen the chances of them sending out another tracking party. ”

Ronan heaves a long sigh, nodding. “Did you know about the trackers?”

“Khors let it slip,” Elas says, “and I convinced a transport yard attendant to show me where it was. Told her I needed to be safe in case the big bad Anunian took me hostage.”

Ronan snorts. “I trust you covered your tracks?”

“You know I always do,” Elas says gently, and Ronan pushes out another long exhale before dropping into his chair, pulling Cameron into his lap.

“I’m sorry, mo’sziv,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Cameron’s neck. Cameron shivers and twists his head, finding Ronan’s lips with a surprising amount of heat. Then I remember Reyes saying Cameron enjoys being thrown around, and I force my gaze to stay above his waist.

“Do you need a minute?” Elas’s voice is dry, and Ronan’s eyes snap open.

He narrows them, never separating his mouth from Cameron’s.

A bolt of arousal flares through my core, my belly clenching as I tear my eyes away and press my face into Elas’s chest. A soft grunt leaves his throat, so quiet only I can hear it, and I peer up at him to find that same heat staring back at me.

“Let’s get this wrapped up.” Elas’s voice has grown rough as his fingers tighten around my shoulder. “It’s getting late, and I have things to do.”

Cameron snorts, separating himself from Ronan. “You have August to do, you mean. A single night of celibacy too much for you to handle, big guy?”

“Oh, there was no celibacy,” Reyes mutters with a sigh, and my cheeks flame again.

“Can we maybe shift the conversation to where we were two minutes ago?” I ask, and Elas’s chest bounces as he chuckles.

“Of course we can, baby.” With a kiss to my hair, he launches right back into the story as though nothing happened. There isn’t much left to tell. We found Reyes, determined where Ronan and Cameron had been travelling, and drove straight here.

“What will happen when you never show up with August at Ljómur?” Cameron asks.

“They’ll come looking for us eventually,” Elas says, reciting the steps like he knows them by heart.

And seeing as how he’s one of their top scouts, I suppose he does.

“Though it might take a while. Khors gave me permission to follow leads about Ronan’s whereabouts, so that buys us a couple of weeks without suspicion.

Now that I know about the trackers, so much makes sense.

In the past, I was given my orders with the last known location already included, so I’m sure they’ll start by pulling the tracker data.

That will send them to Reyes’s camp, which is where I was supposed to be.

We didn’t disturb much, only searched the buildings, but that won’t be suspicious.

If anything, it’ll confirm I was doing my job. ”

“They’ll continue to Ljómur and look for us there, but by then, any tracks left by the SUV will be long gone. There’s nothing to indicate where we went.” Elas flashes a devious smile at Ronan. “We didn’t slaughter any soldiers along the way.”

“An unavoidable detour.” Ronan gives a nonchalant wave of his hand, and Elas snorts a laugh.

“They’ll never find us here,” Elas says with an infectious confidence.

I believe him, completely and unconditionally.

But a nagging guilt festers in my brain as I glance around the room at the relaxed, peaceful faces and soak in the serenity of this place. I snuggle into Elas’s side, telling myself we’re safe and free. That he’s free from the chains that bound him for a century.

That’s what matters.

But what about the others who never got to shed their chains? a quiet voice argues. They’re discussing the files and any plans attached to them in past tense, and everyone seems okay to let it rest.

To just let it go.

Elas glances down at me, and I force a smile in return. He tilts his head, searching, like he can tell something is bothering me. But eventually, he hugs me tighter and turns to Ronan.

“Where can we sleep tonight? ”

“We weren’t exactly expecting visitors,” Ronan says, tone dry, “so I don’t have the guest quarters made up yet.”

“A few of the other houses are weathertight, they’re just… dirty.” Cameron wrinkles his nose as he says it. “For tonight, it’s probably best if you sleep here. The couch isn’t huge, but it’s clean and comfortable.”

Ronan grumbles, and a tiny smile sneaks onto my face, despite my tight throat. “No one is getting any privacy tonight,” he mutters, and Cameron clicks his tongue and swats him with the back of his hand. Ronan doesn’t even flinch, just rolls his eyes and continues to pout.

Cameron turns to Reyes. “We have plenty of quilts and pillows, too. The floor isn’t ideal, but it’s temporary.”

“We’re grateful for everything,” I say softly, and Ronan sighs, shifting Cameron off his lap.

He collects an armful of blankets from their storage building as everyone settles in for the night. After some arguing from both Elas and Reyes, I convince both of them to let Reyes have the couch while Elas and I curl up on the floor.

We huddle in a makeshift nest of bedding, and his heavy arms are a comfort wrapped around me. But even as his breathing steadies and his body twitches in the throes of sleep, I’m still wide awake, staring off into the darkness.

From the second we wake up the following morning, life becomes a flurry of motion and activity.

We pick a house—a two-bedroom cottage across the street and down a few from Ronan and Cameron.

A bed big enough for Elas and me to share comfortably occupies one bedroom, and in the living room, a giant window provides a breathtaking view of the forest. Most of the furniture inside is salvageable.

Elas and Ronan haul the damaged pieces outside as Cameron and I sit back and watch.

Neither of us hides our interest as their muscles bulge under the strain of the dilapidated dresser.

“I told him once I wanted him to split wood shirtless,” Cameron says, never glancing away.

“This is almost as good, but I could do without all those clothes.” They drop the bulky dresser near the fire pit, intending to break it down to burn later.

Elas lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, exposing the defined muscles of his abs.

“He did that on purpose,” I mutter as I fan myself, and sure enough, there’s a grin on his face when he drops his shirt and winks at me.

“Worth it,” Cameron says. We both chuckle when Ronan narrows his eyes in our direction.

I glance down the path, seeing shadows moving inside Reyes’s new house.

He chose a tiny cabin with a modest living area and kitchenette, claiming he doesn’t need much space.

Its small floor plan seems bigger with the abundant windows, though, and I imagine they’re the reason behind his choice.

Sunshine and greenery are a luxury after living underground for so long.

He’s cleaning on his own, despite our invitations to join us and offers to help. Constant company after so many years of isolation must be a shock to the system, so we respect his privacy. When he’s ready for visitors, he’ll find us.

Nyx appeared at the treeline with Cameron after he sought him out in the woods this morning.

Cameron explained we were friends, but Nyx hasn’t come any closer.

Boomerang, however, bounded across the village, all four feet airborne as she ran.

She danced between her paws, tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.

I watched in pure joy as Elas got onto his knees, a giant smile on his face as he played with her.

Now she’s worn out, curled up in a ball in the shade.

“Alright, show’s over,” I say with a sigh as Ronan and Elas walk towards us. They’re both grinning as Elas talks. I can’t hear what he’s saying from here, but his hands wave wildly through the air, and I’m shocked when Ronan throws his head back in a laugh.

“Yeah,” Cameron agrees. “We better get to work before they get too cocky.”

“Can’t have that,” I say, and he grins as we step into the house.

All the windows are open, and the breeze that blows through is warm, but the shade from the forest makes it comfortable.

I grab the bucket of soapy water and work in the kitchen, scrubbing years of dust and grime off the counters.

It doesn’t take long before my water turns black, and I dump it outside before twisting the tap on the sink.

Air groans inside the pipes, and it sputters out in a few blasts that spray droplets everywhere, but eventually, it comes in a steady flow.

Elas joins in the cleaning once the heavy lifting is done, and, to my surprise, so does Ronan. The initial shock of our arrival is finally passing, and he seems to relax. He still shoots Reyes annoyed glances anytime he shows up, much to everyone else’s delight.

Morning turns into afternoon and evening, and the setting sun paints the sky in oranges and deep blues when we finally stop working. Ronan ducked out an hour before the rest of us to cook dinner, and he shouts that food is ready.

Cameron batted his eyes earlier, so Ronan made a few loaves of bread. He serves it with salted meat and a huge bucket of fat red strawberries from a plant Cameron found in the woods. Dinner is cheerful and filled with chatter, but I can’t fully engage.

My eyes keep drifting to the SUV parked in the distance. The boxes of files call out to me from inside, but it’s like everyone has forgotten them.

It feels like a tomb, and I’m the only one in mourning.

Ever since we arrived, they’ve been a nagging thud in the back of my skull, demanding to be acknowledged. Guilt gnaws at my stomach once again, and the strawberry I’m chewing turns sour on my tongue.

It’s only been a day, I tell myself.

We need time to settle.

I’m not abandoning them.

“August?” Elas asks from beside me, and I glance up at him as I force myself to swallow. His endless eyes search mine, and a rush of gratitude and love war with the crushing guilt. They form a confusing, brambled ball of emotion that jabs at my stomach with its thorns. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Conversation carries on around us, laughing and joking. Blind to my internal conflict. I should be happy here. I should appreciate everything Elas has done—everything he sacrificed —to give me safety.

I don’t want to lie to him.

Shouldn’t lie to him.

He deserves the truth, even if it’s messy.

Another round of laughter peals out around us, and a smile quirks at Elas’s lips as he waits for my answer. He’s at peace here, and I refuse to be the one to take that away.

“Nothing,” I force myself to say, plastering a smile onto my face that doesn’t convince him of a damn thing. “Just tired, that’s all.” He stares at me for a long time, and I double down, smiling until I’m afraid my face might crack.

“Alright,” he finally says, leaning in to press a kiss on the corner of my mouth. I breathe in his comforting smell and relish the familiar feel of his touch as he cups my chin and drags a thumb over my cheek. “You’d tell me if something was bothering you?”

“Of course,” I lie in a whisper, and I lean against him, unable to hold his eyes any longer.