Page 32 of The Rake OR The Orca Who Met His Match in a Selkie Desiring Revenge
“You need to learn combat, yes, but perhaps maybe we both need to learnthis more.”
“Learn what?” Elspeth tilted her head up to look at him.
The sun peeked through the brightly colored autumn leaves framing his face. “Learn… us. How we fit together.”
“I should think you know quite well how you fit together with someone.”
He smirked, and Elspeth felt a thrill of excitement from knowing that she made him laugh.
“Not like this.” His voice was a whisper, caressing her ears with its sound as he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “This,”He squeezed her and stared down at her, looking at her like she was something precious and unfathomable. “This is entirely new.”
Elspeth’s stomach made a giddy leap inside her. In all his vast experience, what they had was something new? In a moment of boldness, she felt compelled to kiss him. The ease of his touch made her desperate to grasp for more. Because, who knew how long she could count on it remaining?
Biting her lip, Elspeth raised one hand to cup the side of his face. Aegir closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. She met his eyes and pulled him closer. He bent, but stoppedwhere she’d have access to him, not pressing forward, just waiting.
With a surge of courage and longing, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. The soft pillow of his lips was the perfect landing, and she savored the meeting. Again, Aegir didn’t make a move, hewaited.When she parted her lips though, inviting him inside, his tongue flowed into her mouth, as natural as water itself.
This,this, was the closeness, the connection she’d always imagined, always longed for. Their kisses were a conversation, with Aegir never pressing, but always leaving room for Elspeth to expand. The heat of their kiss filled her, dousing her worries over their situation as she allowed herself, at least for that brief moment, to sink into the heady spell that was Aegir.
They kissed until they were breathless, but Aegir eventually pulled away, propping his forehead against hers.
“Yes,” he whispered. “This is definitely new.”
The final inn oftheir trip was a raucous place when they arrived just after sunset. People and noise spilled out of the door and onto the street. Aegir shouldered theirway in and found them a table, depositing Elspeth before making his way to the bar. A local band played boisterous songs that made other patrons yell to be heard over the music, while others danced where tables had been pushed back. Aegir came back a few moments later with two tankards of drink, avoiding being tripped at least twice.
He was smiling when he sat down, clearly relieved to be sitting after the long day, but it was also like being in the crowd revitalized him. The villagers appeared to be very similar to Aegir, and in fact, they all appeared to be elves, though they didn’t act like any elves Elspeth had met before. While she’d grown used to Aegir’s looks as an elf, the feeling of being surrounded by them pressed in on her.
“Is this an elf village?” she whispered.
“Yes, though, these folks identify as wood elves rather than high elves, only among themselves, of course.” He tilted his head and held his tankard up in a casual toast. “Even elves have social classes, it seems, and these are the most humble of them. That's why they are my favorite.”
Elspeth blinked. Because her own village was so small, she’d never had to think much about differences in social status in that way. Sure, there were some families that were wealthierthan others, and some less so, but no one on Hillskerry could afford to set themselves too far apart from the rest in any meaningful way. As far as she knew, it was the same on the other islands where selkies lived.2
As soon as he’d said it, it made sense. Of course not every elf was in a position of power, even if that is how it had always appeared to her.3
These people, this town, they all just seemed so… normal. Toasting Aegir back, she sipped the nutty ale and allowed her eyes to roam the room. A few tables over, one man sat in another’s lap, staring at his lover’s hand of cards. Other elves sat around the table, studying their own hands and throwing coins into the center of the table. The elf sitting on his lover’s lap made a quip that had the whole table laughing.
A few tables to the other side, two women, friends it looked like, flopped down into a chair fanning themselves as a song ended. They laughed and joked, one of the ladies pointing across the room and whispering in her friend’s ear. The easy familiarity of it, the friendship and small-town politics reminded Elspeth so much of home that her chest squeezed. They didn’t have an inn, so few people rarely visited Hillskerry, but they had a tavern,and she could have seen these exact exchanges on any evening at home. It wasn’t a tune she knew, or people she knew, yet even the scents brought her back.
If she were home, she and Feann and Mama would be gathered around a table, enjoying the evening. Instead, Mama was home, alone with no idea where they were, and Feann… well, she was coming for him. She set her jaw, taking another sip of her beer. Shewasgoing to find him. She had skills now, and Aegir as backup if she couldn’t get the job done herself. He wouldnotspend the rest of his life in whatever horrid situation he was in, she and Aegir would get him out and get him home.
She and Aegir. The two of them paired so easily in her brain now, theyfeltlike a team. Warmth permeated her chest as she looked up at him. Perhaps it was just the bond, but he made her stomach flutter in ways no one else ever had. A smile from him encouraged her to keep pushing when their training got hard, and a kind, soft word was more reassurance than any grand compliment.
He sat with his foot resting on the opposite knee, sipping his ale and bobbing his head to the beat. He was still ostensibly in his “Captain Aegir” persona, though she’d lost track of what name he used today. The way he movedthough, his sly looks over to smile at her, the bouncing of his foot, none of it reflected who that character was meant to be. It was like there was another side of him, a side that she liked best, that only slipped out on occasion. He was “relaxed Aegir” in those moments. Less presentational and more likely to make quiet, meaningful conversation than a joke, he only showed that self usually later in the evenings, when they’d retired to their room and the lights were out. The ease of his shoulders though, told her that perhaps “relaxed Aegir” was with her then.
He studied the dance floor, one of his hands tracing movements in the air. Did he enjoy dancing? She’d never been particularly talented, but she always had a good time. Aegir looked over at her, winking when he caught her looking.
“Do you like to dance?” she asked.
“I do.”
“Would—would you like to?”
He smiled and leaned over the table. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable…”
“I’d like to try… at least.”
Aegir smiled and stood in front of her, holding out his hand in invitation. It struck her, in that moment, that that’s how he always treated her. An invitation, never anexpectation.