Page 27 of The Rake OR The Orca Who Met His Match in a Selkie Desiring Revenge
Did his voice sound sad? Or was it simply the edge of sleep tugging at him the way it beckoned her? Its insistent call refused to let her dwell on it, however, and she was pulled under the waves of sleep in seconds.
1. This type of tap was not uncommon in the Empire in general, only on Hillskerry, and Elspeth’s naivety should not be assumed to be the norm.
2. Indeed, you will find that Elspeth’s skill in sketching has served us well, as she provided the map included in this manuscript.
3. This thought process is truly the largest barrier we have faced. For peoples that have lived with the Empire for thousands of years, the concept of freedom is nigh unfathomable.
4. Astute readers might remember that they have already tested the bond and Elspeth’s ability to ignore orders. This repetition is not laziness on the author’s part, but an example of Aegir’s commitment to Elspeth’s autonomy.
Chapter ten
Aegir
IN WHICH TRAINING PROVIDES AN AVENUE, BUT ONLY AFTER BREAKFAST, AND STABBINGIS ENCOURAGED
Aegir’s legs were trapped.Technically, Elspeth’s legs were trapped, but he could hardly move without disturbing her.
Sometime in the night, she’d wiggled her feet under his legs and now he faced an issue. Did he move his legs and wake her up, alerting her to the fact that he was touching her? Or did he leave them, and let her discover it on her own? Considering her reaction to his touch, he opted for the former. Tightening his stomach, he removed weight from his legs, and little by little raised them ever so gently off of her feet. It took an interminable amount of time, but seeing how sweet she looked still asleep when he was done, he deemed the effort worth it. She’d scooted a fair way down the bed toreach his feet, abandoning her pillow in her sleep, though the covers were pulled up tight under her chin. Her eyebrow whiskers twitched in her sleep, such a distinctive thing, that he’d never have thought to call cute, but there it was, regardless.
Seeing as he was already dressed, he donned his boots and headed downstairs. He’d somehow reverted to his full human form in his sleep, so he sharpened his ears to appear an elf again.1 He could smell something fresh from the oven and thought Elspeth might enjoy it when she woke. As he hopped down the stairs, he realized he felt… light. He was no stranger to doing things for others, but usually it was with an end goal in mind. He’d buy a lover a fancy bauble, knowing that it would cause them to divulge important information or tumble into bed with him. In this instance though, while hedidhave an end in mind, it was nothing more than a smile. He practically bounced downstairs… all for the promise, the possibility, that he’d see the crinkle at the corner of her eyes or a blush on her cheeks.
Aegir was under no illusion that he’d get more from her—perhaps eventually—but somehow that smile was worth it. How could it be that the reaction of one selkie couldoutshine years of sexual experiences? It was hard to believe, but he found that he was more eagerly anticipating it than any clandestine affair he’d had in years. This bond must be a powerful thing, indeed.
The back stairwell led straight into the kitchens, he’d always had a knack for sussing such things out, and this was no exception. There, he found the round little cook that had always treated him kindly, regardless. He looked an elf again, and they thought him some minor noble. He swaggered in, knowing that any treat she might pass along was likely laced with her hopes of favor. That the tax collectors might skip her inn, that she could escape the future ire of the Pathian army, that Trina—whom he noticed leaned against a counter—might marry into his stature.
Sadly, it was a common myth perpetuated by the Pathian government, that at least common elves or minor nobles might look outside their race for marriage. According to the story, any offspring were invariably elves, for their bloodlines were stronger, of course. But he’d never seen any evidence for such marriages, and plenty of half-blood bastards to suggest that it was no morethan a lie to keep people complacent, cooperative, and receptive to elvish advances.
“Good morning ladies,” he greeted.
Trina, thankfully, rolled her eyes, and sauntered out of the room, though he noticed she still swished her little tail in hopes that he’d linger on her rump as he always had before. Instead, he rolled his eyes again and turned his attention back to Mrs. Engels.
“Don’t you mind her none,” she said. “Trina’s just sad to have her favorite patron snatched up is all.”
“Not at all. Anyone would be sad to see me go.” He flashed her a smile, though the persona grated on him. He could be this man in his sleep, and hated him for being an elf at all, of course, but he’d always hadfunin the guise. He’d always reveled in the havoc he could wreak on the Empire’s image, the knowledge that even if he hurt people, it was in the name of sullying the Empire in their eyes. It had always seemed worth the price. He was working for their freedom, and if they had made themselves promises abouthim that he wasn’t privy to, that was their problem.
Now? He wasn’t so sure…
He was on thebottom stair with a full tray of food when he heard Elspeth’s whines. His heart dropped to his stomach and he took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the scalding tea that sloshed onto his hand. He healed it without a thought because heneededto get to her. Who knew what was wrong. Was she being attacked? Was someone in the room with her? Had someone discovered she was a selkie? He barreled up the stairs and down the hall, determined to get to her and stop whatever caused her distress. With an elbow, he pressed the door handle and barged into the room, abandoning the tray immediately.
Elspeth was in bed with her eyes closed, whipping her head back and forth. She was whimpering, sweat beaded on her forehead. While he felt the tiniest bit of relief that she wasn’t in danger, his heart squeezed at seeing her pain. He hurried to her side and stopped himself just before shaking her. His hand hovered in the air and he saw the look on her face when he’d touched her the night before. For a moment, he’d been sure she was happy. And then, with ashudder, her face had twisted in fear, eyes squeezed shut and she’d been far, far away. Tucking his fingers to his palm, he pulled away.
“Elspeth,” he whispered, hoping it would be enough to pull her from her nightmare. “Elspeth.”
She didn’t respond. What was he to do? He couldn’t leave her like that? He clenched and unclenched his hands, detesting the helplessness that gripped him. Perhaps, if he simply nudged her with a pillow, that might be all right. Gingerly, he pressed a pillow against her shoulder and shook her.
Elspeth’s eyes flew open and Aegir breathed a sigh of relief.
“Is it time to go?” she asked. She was up and across the room before he could react, pulling her travel dress from the pack he’d bought her.
“No, you were just having a nightmare, so I woke you.”
“Oh. Thank you.” She clutched the dress in front of her, her eyes straying to where he’d abandoned the tray. “I see breakfast has been delivered.”
Aegir nodded and crossed to set the food out on the table. Elspeth padded over after a moment, her pelt clutched around her shoulders like a cloak. Her little toes stuck out from the bottom of her shift, and Aegir’s heart tugged at how adorable and intimate it was to see her toes in the morning.
When she sat down in the chair, she pulled her legs up and tucked them beneath her, surveying the spread. She smiled, seeing tea, and poured some into the teacups for them.
“Would you like any juice?” Aegir asked, digging his jar of powdered lunula out.