Page 11 of The Shadow Fae Rhapsody (Elven Fantasy Romance #3)

Chapter 10 Svenn

M y beautiful girl is all sunshine and happy, like a bushy-tailed squirrel.

It’s her name day.

I stalk into the room after her handmaidens leave. Bodices, corsets, and skirts lay on the floor like weapons in the aftermath of a battle. Rhianelle stands in the middle of it all, like a queen triumphant. She waltzes and spins in her frilly dress in front of the mirror.

Divine, I think to myself. Nel is exactly like how I imagined a fairytale princess would be in my human days.

Her prey instinct alerts her to my presence.

She goes as still as a statue when she sees me watching her.

“How long have you’ve been standing there?” she finally asks, her cheeks flushing with whatever silly insecurities that must be playing in her mind.

I lean back to look at her, smirking to let her know I appreciate the view. “A while.”

Her eyes turn as bright as diamond the moment she dashes straight into my arms. “I miss you.”

The impact of her tackle does nothing to me, but those words completely shake my world off-balance.

“I was only gone for five minutes, Nel,” I whisper into her silver hair. “But yes, I miss you too.”

That draws forth a small smile on her lips. I clench my fist to fight against the unbidden need to kiss her.

Nel nuzzles my shoulder like a tame deer asking for biscuits. This is the third time she does it since this morning. Her hand drifts lower, sliding down my back.

I raise a brow.

That’s a surprise… She’s never brave enough to do that. I close my eyes and will away my erection. I love it when she touches me casually like this, but it’s unusual she’s this assertive.

Perhaps the strange bond is acting up on her?

“Did you dream of us last night?” I ask. If I wasn’t watching her closely, I would have missed the tiniest way she flinches at the question.

She takes a long moment before giving me a soft nod.

I can’t tell if it’s a sweet dream or a goddamn nightmare. I’m hesitant to press her on it because Rhianelle would always become flustered whenever we talked about it.

Today is worse because Nel simply goes mute.

She tips her head back to look at me, resting her chin on my chest. I stare into her eyes, trying to read the truth there. I think the girl is doing the same thing to me.

“It’s nothing,” she decides, pulling away. “Are you hungry?”

Rhianelle draws a cookie from her pouch.

I bite it from out of her hand. I notice the way her gaze is riveted on my mouth.

A proud smile curves her lips when I finish eating the damn thing. Nel always has this triumphant look as if she had just conquered the highest peak of a mountain whenever I eat her food. I stare at the pouch on her waist, wondering how many more are left. I’ll consume them all as long as I get to see that smile again.

“Svenn,” she mutters underneath her breath.

“What is it, little fawn?” I give her my full attention.

I catch the faint dip of her throat as she swallows.

“My uncle is hosting a small gathering tonight. Will you join us at the feast later?” Her cheeks blush the moment she voices the invitation.

Fucking adorable.

It’s rare for her to ask for anything, which is why I have to force this answer into my mouth.

“No.”

The rejection sends a flush through her cheeks and her smile drops. I immediately feel like an asshole. I wait for her to look up at me. ”It’s not a good idea, Nel. My presence will distract them from your speech.”

I have listened to every conversation and whispering in this town. I am a symbol of death, destruction, and power to these elves. Bringing me to the banquet will bring the opposite effect to what she wants. Rhianelle is smart. She must know I will only be an obstruction to her cause. But something in her eyes says that she wants me there anyway.

“I understand.” Her voice barely audible than the rustling of leaves. “I better go to my fitting session with Lady Deirdre now.”

She gives a soft and sweet smile before leaving.

The moment the door closes, I slip into my hunting leathers. This is my opportunity to make things right. I want to prove to Rhianelle that I can be good for her.

My plan is to find one of the rats used by the sorcerer and bring the creature to light. Then I’ll trace it back to the fucking Elders and expose them. I head straight to the Anastarros Healing House to begin my hunt. The white building boasts multiple white column pillars. Several pilgrims and worshippers stare curiously at my presence, half-expecting I would burst into ashes as I walk into the temple.

They’re not entirely wrong there. Few ballads and legends of the vampires do hold some truth. Stepping on hallowed ground will not perish us immediately but it will cause a pounding in our head.

Most Nightwalkers steer clear of consecrated places to avoid the unpleasant sensation. But I’m immune to most pain after years of torture under the witch. I step my feet on the moonstone marble and feel a slight tingle on my skin.

“The infirmary is at the back,” a brave acolyte of the temple informs me. I walk in the direction without delay. My target is the half-naked male on the third bed near the window.

This Grimsbane was the first to make the connection between the monster and the sewer.

“Nice of you to visit. You’re my third visitor today,” he says by way of greeting.

I ignore him and go straight for what lies underneath his bed. I weave through the black armor he wore that night.

“Careful with that. The items belong to the guild,” Shade mutters, tightening the demonic muzzle on his mouth.

The assassin settles at the edge of his bed, watching me silently. He gazes at his wrist where I had bitten him. “You saved my life, vampire. Paid one life debt only to owe another.”

I finally find his stupid notebook and pause.

What kind of ugly, shitty writing is this? Is this the tunnel system?

“I’m healthy enough to be discharged from this healing house,” he informs, even though I didn’t ask. “Just in time for me to go to the Queen’s ball tonight.”

Young healers smile and giggle over his presence. If only they know the pure stupidity coming out of his mouth.

Shade gives me a pitiful look. “You weren’t invited?

Of course, I’m fucking invited.

A headache gathers behind my temple. I may survive trespassing on holy ground, but talking to this idiot is a new form of torture. My teeth grind in irritation.

“I am the queen’s honored guest. But everyone in the city is welcomed to go,” he adds. “I can add your name into my invitation card if you want to.”

I glance at the pillow on his bed and contemplate suffocating him with that. It’ll be clean and smooth. Not even the healers will notice. I quickly remind myself that my wife risked her life to save this smoky-haired bastard.

His dull, gray eyes scan me briefly. “I don’t think you care much about innocent lives, otherwise you would have tracked down the creature earlier. You’re doing this for the queen.”

Who else would I be doing it for? I want to do right by the girl so I can stay with her forever.

“It’s a waste of time,” he says in one breath.

I raise my eyebrows in silent question.

“Wesley’s men stormed into the sewers yesterday to flush out those rats. They found nothing but the ones you burnt,” Shade says, finally bothering to slip on a plain black shirt. “The sorcerer lost his hold on the monsters. I think the beasts are smart enough not to return to the last place they were enslaved.”

Fucker has a point.

I silently implore him.

This dumbfuck is the first to figure out the truth about the monster. Is it pure luck or is he smarter than he lets on?

“If it’s the queen’s favor you seek, then go to the ball with her tonight,” he says without a flicker of emotion. “I think she would have liked you to be there.”

I say nothing to that.

“The queen needs all the support she can get,” he continues. “The Silverra—her uncle will not be there tonight. She’ll be alone.”

A lonely deer in a room full of wolves.

The thought of that stirs a strange emotion inside me. I rise and take my leave.

“Wait,” the assassin suddenly calls just before I go.

Perhaps he finally remembers some clue on the monster. I swivel back towards him.

“Will I turn into some kind of elven vampire?”

This fucking moron.

“No.”

I return to the keep swiftly after the unfruitful endeavor. Nel hasn’t come home yet from her dress fitting. She needs to change into seven different ones for tonight. What a fucking chore. But each gown is vital to her goals for the occasion. I lay by the window and enter into my dormant state to purge the assassin’s stupid words.

I think she would have liked you to be there.

The sun arches in the sky and begins its descent by the time the door creaks open. Rhianelle trots to my side, thinking that I’m asleep.

I inhale her sweet scent deep into my lungs as she nears.

“Will you go to the feast with me?” Little fawn asks with no hope of reply.

My chest hollows and my heart ceases beating at the question. I brush the hurt aside and keep myself still.

She sighs. “It’s worth the shot.”

Then I feel her lips brushing against the corner of my jaw, softer than a fluttering butterfly.

A silent whisper of her light footsteps and the door closes. I peel my eyes open after she’s long gone from the room.

I know instantly that if Rhianelle ever leaves me, I won’t survive it. It will finally be the end of my sanity.

Because that featherlight kiss she gave me… I feel it down to my fucking soul.