Page 60 of Healed By the Grumpy Elf

I tuck the lily carefully inside my jacket, close to my heart.

Without hesitation, I turn and begin to run back toward Saltford Bay, toward home, toward my True Mate. The sun sets behind me, casting my shadow long before me as my feet carry me back to where I belong.

For the first time in my life, I know what my heart wants. And it makes all the difference.

Chapter 19

Maeve

Therainpoundsagainstthe roof like an army of tiny fists. I've lost track of how long I've been curled up on this couch, wrapped in my old blanket. Days, hours, minutes. It’s all the same to me. The darkness of the living room matches the hollow feeling in my chest. I haven't bothered to turn on any lights since Lorian left.

Left. Such a simple word for such complete devastation.

Every time I close my eyes, I see him walking away. The stiff set of his shoulders. The way he couldn't even look at me. My fingers absently trace the spot on my chest where an actual physical ache hasformed.

It happened just like Orlin Braggstone said it would. How could I have been so naïve? So utterly foolish? I actually believed an elf surgeon of the Elven High Court would choose me, a small-town nurse, over his prestigious career. Ridiculous.

"True Mates," I whisper into the darkness, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. What a convenient lie to get me into bed. And I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.

A flash of lightning illuminates my living room for a split second, throwing harsh shadows across the furniture. Thunder follows almost immediately, a deep rumble that vibrates through the floorboards. The storm has been building all evening, as if the heavens themselves understand my grief and want to express it.

The rain intensifies, lashing against the windows with renewed fury. I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders, but it does nothing for the chill that's settled into my bones.

Then a sound reaches my ears, and I lift my head. And another.

A knock. So drowned out by the pattering of the rain that I almost think I imagined it.

My heart jumps painfully in my chest, but I don't move. It can't be. I'm hearing things, projecting my desperate wishes into random storm noises.

The knock comes again, louder this time, more insistent.

I slowly unwrap myself from the blanket, my muscles stiff from sitting in one position for so long. I don't bother turning on any lights as I make my way to the door. What's the point? There’s only one person I want to see, and he discarded me like a used sock.

My hand hesitates on the doorknob. I take a deep breath, bracing myself for disappointment. It’s probably Mrs. Foster from down the lane, worried about me being alone during the storm.

I pull the door open slowly, just a crack at first.

And there he is. I can’t think. I can’t move. All I can do is stare at the man who shattered my heart.

Lorian stands on my porch, completely drenched. His silver-blond hair is plastered to his head, his expensive clothes soaked through, water dripping from his eyelashes. His normally perfect appearance is completely disheveled. But it's his gaze that stops my breath, pale and desperate, his ice-blue eyes glowing in the dim light, filled with something raw and unguarded that I've never seen before.

I stand frozen, unable to process his presence. My emotions war within me—relief, anger, confusion, hope, all fighting for dominance.

He speaks first.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely audible over the rain. "I never should have walked away. There is no future for me without you."

I feel tears rising again, my throat tightening with emotion. After everything that happened today, I shouldn't have any tears left.

"You left me," I whisper, my voice breaking with the weight of my feelings.

Lorian's expression shifts to one of complete vulnerability, his perfect mask gone entirely.

"I love you," he says, the words dropping between us like stones in still water. "I love you, Maeve. If I have to choose between you and all the riches in the world, it would be the easiest decision I’ve ever made. I choose you. I choose you at every turn."

I watch in shock as Lorian drops to one knee in the pouring rain. Water streams down his face, but he doesn't seem to notice or care.

From inside his soaked coat, Lorian pulls out a flower unlike any I've ever seen. Its white petals have a glass-like texture, brilliant and smooth, and it glows faintly from the center. It has the shape and look of a lily, but with an ethereal kind of presence.