The Goddesses' Gifts (Elves Of Alaire Book 2)

Chapter 1

My body rocked in time with a horse’s trotting gait ... but I couldn’t recall when I got on a horse. There was a warm, leather clad body behind me. “Lhoris?” Maybe he would know what was going on. But the slate hand resting on my belly didn’t have his long, elegant fingers, so, it wasn’t Lhoris. It couldn’t be Lobikno either—his hands were just like his brother’s. My vision blurred and I closed my eyes. Bile rose in my throat.

Something was very wrong!

A sudden jolt of fear broke a path through the confusion, and I started sorting through my jumbled memories. I remembered watching Lhoris and Lobikno retreat around the corner of the garden, towards the gates of the chateau, then putting on a kerchief to keep my hair clean and out of the way while I worked in the garden. I was reaching for the last few bean pods I could find in the fading light when a sharp burning sensation flared on the back of my arm. Thinking it was an insect, I swatted at the source, but found a feathered dart in my hand instead of a dead fly. Then nothing until I found myself riding.

No, not riding. I was being carried away on horseback. The arm around my waist did not belong to my mate or friend, but it was a dark elf.

I’d been kidnapped. Again. Fuck!

And for the second time in as many months!

If word ever got back to my Order, I’d never hear the end of it. It would serve me right for letting my guard down. For being too comfortable and too wound up in my worries to notice someone prowling nearby.

I moved to claw my kidnapper in the eyes, but found my hands were bound in front and secured to a ring on the saddle. Shit. So, I tried to jam my elbow into the rider’s belly, but the rope wouldn’t allow enough slack to do anything effective. Damn it.

There was another sting, and I was hurled back into oblivion.

And that was my existence for a long while. I’d wake up and struggle, then find myself stuck with another needle. Until one day I woke up in a cart, tied hand and foot. I was painfully hungry, and ached head to toe. There was no telling if the ache was from whatever poison they’d used to subdue me or being transported without the ability to mind myself. Or possibly, my body consuming itself to stay alive depending on how long I’d been without food. I was certain, however, that my head was sore from where it bounced along the bottom of the cart.

I rolled to my side and pushed myself up on one elbow to try and get a feel for the situation, but it took a few minutes, dizzy as I was. Mountains loomed all around me. “Shit.” It was safe to assume these were Dulanzo’s people, but it would take weeks to reach their territory. Had they kept me unconscious the entire time? My empty belly and aching body thought so. I also reeked of piss, which might explain why I was in a cart. I supposed I should be grateful they’d at least given me water.

The elves around me were very different from the ones in Lhoris’ crew of thieves. Many bore tattoos on their faces or had scars so symmetrical I could only assume they were made intentionally. But it was the look in their eyes and the way they carried themselves that differed the most. These elves had an intelligent, ruthless quality about them where the other crew had simply struck me as petulant and mean.

One of them brought their horse along the cart and laughed at my misery. “You know where you are, girl?”

“Vaguely.” I frowned, head pounding, and glared up at him. “I’m going to see Dulanzo, aren’t I?”

He drew back his lip in a sneer. “And he’s going to enjoy meeting you.”

I grunted and rolled my eyes. “I doubt it.”

“You and your mate killed many of my brothers.” His sneer turned into a sharp, cruel smile. “Even a half-elf can make replacements.”

Apparently racial purity wasn’t a factor in bolstering their expendable forces.

“Your brothers were idiots.” I scowled, trying to hide the flutter of fear rising in my belly with disgust. I really didn”t want that life for any child, least of all my own.

Denied the satisfaction of frightening me, he spat in my hair, and pulled away. Maybe I could ride in peace for the rest of the trip. We would be close to our destination if they weren’t drugging me again.

The road finally came upon a broad, grassy clearing with many footpaths worn throughout. At the far side was the entrance to their fortress. It was covered by a typical portcullis and gatehouse in front of massive, heavy doors. The difference being they were built into the foot of a small squat mountain and surrounded by trees instead of a curtain wall. It surprised me—I had assumed they”d use magical means to hide it. Maybe they didn’t have enough power in the warband to conjure something like that or maintain it. Or more likely it was the first of many false fronts and traps.

My escort called to the elves manning the gate and the portcullis lifted with the rattle and clank of its winch. Then the great doors opened inwards to darkness.

“I hope you’re not afraid of the dark, little girl,” rumbled one of the other mounted elves as the tunnel swallowed the caravan. I peered over my shoulder, watching the narrowing strip of light between the doors shrink behind us. They shut with a final, echoing boom followed by the clatter of the falling portcullis. The cart lurched abruptly, as if the path took a sharp right turn away from the mountain. I toppled over gracelessly with a startled grunt. The elves around me laughed while I righted myself. My face heated in furious embarrassment. How could they even see me? How did their horses navigate in such darkness? This was beyond even the animals’ excellent night vision. Though I did occasionally see a flash of elven eyes, which struck me as odd. There wasn’t any light around to reflect in their pupils. Did that mean that the light came from within them?

At least it gave me something to think about while I scooted into a corner, bracing myself to prevent further tumbles. The cart shifted again as the path turned downward.

Without the sun there was no way to tell how long we rode down in complete darkness. The elves passed the time in quiet conversation with each other, naturally in their own language. The tunnel narrowed and closed in tight around the cart, if my ears could be trusted, and eventually opened into some sort of chamber. What seemed like hundreds of eye lights flicked over the caravan from all directions. New voices called and my kidnappers answered, then we were back in another close tunnel.

It might have been an hour, maybe two, before I could see the distant violet glow of light ahead of us. The narrow tunnel opened into a large, natural cave lit by the dimmest little blue and red fairy lights. I could just make out the shapes of small, finger-length stalactites hanging a few feet above the riders’ heads. Was that how their vision functioned best? If that were the case, I could only imagine how miserable the light flooded surface world was for Lhoris and Lobikno.

Sounds didn’t echo quite the way I expected in the cavern. Perhaps it was for the dozen or so small stone buildings scattered about. Their cobbled-together walls stretched from floor to ceiling and probably broke up the way sound carried. The distinct odor of soot and heated metal wafted from the nearest structure as we passed it by, no doubt a forge of some kind. These must be the equivalent of the outbuildings one might find in a castle courtyard, or perhaps the center of a town. Storage, barracks, perhaps a mill … I could smell the stables even if I couldn’t see them.

Everything felt too close without wind to stir the damp, chill air and far too barren without plant life and the scurry of small animals or insects. There was a significant sense of absence about the place.

It made all the small noises that normally went unnoticed seem louder. The rustle of fabric, the creak of wood as the cart rolled over the cavern floor, the swish of my loose hair as I turned my head to look around. The elves’ voices were even low, as if they were afraid to disturb the unnerving silence all around us. Aside from the elves and their horses, there was no life there. Nothing but dirt and stone and damp. A tomb.

I’d go mad living in such a place.

The cart came to a halt and a pair of shadowy hands reached for me. My stomach twisted, but they only untied my ankles and steadied me by the elbow while I climbed down from the cart. I didn’t bother to waste energy on fighting. There was little enough of that to spare. A second elf took my other elbow and guided me into a broad, arched tunnel carved into the nearby cave wall. It was lined with doors and frequently intersected with other tunnels. My feet stumbled beneath me, struggling to keep up with their pace. Eventually they shoved me into a small, dim chamber that smelled of clean water and soap. Another elf arrived with a set of clean clothes and shoved them in my arms before leaving.

“You stink,” the first of my captors said. “Wash and dress in clean clothes.”

I wanted to be insulted, but he wasn’t wrong.

“I need more light than this,” I grumbled. “I can”t see what I’m doing.”

The elf closed himself in the room with me and I watched him warily.

“I could wash you instead,” he suggested and twitched as though he were going to reach for me. I took a sluggish step back. He grinned, teeth bright in his dark face, but didn’t otherwise move.

He was teasing me!

The prick.

“Not if you want to keep all your fingers.” I snapped my teeth together, the clack sharp in the silence.

He huffed a laugh, and the lights went out. Rough hands caught my wrists and undid the ropes binding them. I dropped the bundle of clothing in my arms and threw my hands out to push him away, but they only met empty air. The light came back up, white this time instead of dim blue, just bright enough that I could see details. There was a dressing table of sorts with bottles and towels stacked beside a small wash basin and a larger wooden tub opposite it. It was a typical washroom. The exception, though, were metal pipes jutting out from the ceiling. They ran along the wall ending right over the lip of the tub.

I turned back to the elf and found him watching me with large, orange eyes seated in a handsome, heart shaped face. His skin wasn’t quite as dark as Lhoris’, nor was he as filled out, though they had to be close in height. It gave him a gaunt, underfed look, giving me the impression of hunger or desperation. The way strands of his long silver hair had come free of his topknot and fallen over his shaved sides and face only reinforced the impression.

“What’s that?” I asked my captor cautiously, gesturing to the pipes with a tilt of my head.

He scoffed. “Humans don’t have indoor water?”

“I wouldn’t ask if they did,” I muttered, feeling like an idiot. I’d heard that some of the magic folk had a way to conjure water, but I assumed it would require, well, magic. Maybe it still did, even if I couldn’t smell it.

“Humans are disgusting,” he shook his head. “This water system is a dwarven invention, and no, I don’t know exactly how it works,” he explained and summoned the water by turning a little lever at the end of the pipe. It flowed into the wooden bathtub below. “This one’s cold water; the other is hot.”

He turned the lever on the second pipe and hot water eventually started pouring from it. “Enjoy it now. You’ll only have cold water in your room for drinking and cleaning.”

Then he stepped away and just stood there, as though waiting for me to disrobe and use the tub.

“We’ll be standing here until one of us dies of age if you think I’m going to strip down in front of you,” I grumped at him, the words heavy with disdain. “There’s only the one door and I don’t think I’ll fit in the pipes.”

Lhoris told me once that the males in this place were starved of female companionship. I’d rather not let them think I was easy to maneuver. He laughed and backed out of the room. The lock clicked and I was finally alone.

I picked up the clean clothes and put them on the dressing table before stripping out of the soiled ones. There was a bottle of lavender scented bath oil next to the basin that I had no intention of using. Washing away the filth they’d left me in was the best these bastards would get. I picked up a lump of unscented soap from the bottom of the basin and a comb that was tangled in the clothes before climbing into the tub.

I took my time enjoying the bath. It didn’t compare to the hot spring, but the heated water did ease some of my discomfort. I took my time teasing the knots out of my hair before getting it wet and lathering it up. Then I did as the pervy elf had suggested and simply enjoyed relaxing in the heat.

The water was just starting to cool when there was the jingle of keys and click of the lock. I sunk down into the water so all he’d see were my eyes as I peered over the lip of the tub.

“Hurry up! The commander is impatient,” pervy-elf snapped.

I narrowed my eyes at him. Prolonging my bath time would likely end in being manhandled out of it. There was no point in giving him the tart reply readied on the tip of my tongue. “Fine,” I said with a scowl. He stood, waiting. “Shoo,” I flicked a hand, flinging tepid water across the room. Droplets hit pervy-elf in the face. He sputtered and cursed before retreating back to the corridor.

I waited for the sound of the lock before I stood to dry off and dress. They’d given me an oversized cotton tunic, trousers, and socks. Of course, not a single undergarment to be found. “I swear I’ve never had such a hard time with underclothes until these ridiculous elves came along,” I complained to myself while rolling up the pant waist so the crotch didn’t sag to my thighs.

At least the clothes were clean, though they did have a trace of human scent deep in the fibers. I paused for a moment to look down at myself and wondered if I was wearing the clothes of a dead man—a chilling thought I didn’t care to linger on.

The knives were missing from my boots, but the thin strip of leather concealing the lockpicks had gone unnoticed! Grinning at my first bit of good luck in a long while, I pulled the boots on and moved to call “Let”s get this over with” through the door.

Pervy-elf and his friend led me through a confusing network of caves and visually uniform tunnels—just a series of dizzying turns in a seemingly endless labyrinth—or at least they were trying to make it seem that way. There were a couple of intersections that had enough unique markings and scents that I was sure they were one and the same. But there was no sense in letting them know that I’d caught on to their ruse.

We eventually stopped outside a heavy wooden door. Pervy-elf knocked on it and a baritone called back to them in their language. He opened the door and unceremoniously shoved me into the room.

My eyes darted around in the dull red light taking in as much of the space as I could. There was a massive table with what looked to be scrolls of maps spread across the surface. A heavy desk and sofa were the only other discernable pieces of furniture, the latter in front of an unlit fireplace. The scent of parchment and aged leather hung heavy in the air; books. It appeared as though I was in a study. A shadowy figure, Dulanzo I assumed, sat at the desk, apparently working while waiting for me. He leaned an elbow on the armrest and tilted his head as though assessing me.

The figure lifted a hand and the fireplace burst to life with red light. “I’d bid you welcome, sister, but I suspect you know the nature of your captivity.”

“Bait,” I said with a shrug. I meant to appear indifferent, but his presence was heavy … smothering. I was painfully hungry, my body ached, and to say my mind was sluggish was optimistic. The water they’d given me, and my inhuman constitution, meant I’d survived the long trek, but it wasn’t until that moment that I was truly frightened.

Dulanzo rose and stalked around the desk toward me at a measured pace—a confident predator with complete command of his territory. He was built like his brothers; long and lean with powerful shoulders. Another athlete warrior. But his facial features were difficult to discern in such dim lighting. At first, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. His eyes appeared as pits of black in the shadows, the firelight reflecting in his pupils resembled smoldering embers. It took another heartbeat to realize it was a white, skull-like tattoo over the top half of his face that created the illusion. It was intensely creepy in the darkness, making the back of my neck prickle. It at least hid any resemblance he might have to his brothers. For that my heart was grateful.

“Yes,” he nodded and gestured to the sofa, inviting me to sit. I perched on the far end, my back rigid, while he settled in on the other. He was playing the polite host now, but the pressure of his attention was absolutely that of one stalking their prey. I had to be very careful in how I engaged with him, but he was my opponent and pride insisted I hold his gaze. It was uncomfortably intimate within seconds, but I held my ground.

“My dear brothers never got far enough from the castle walls for my scouts to collect them. Though I must say, Zelfek’s idea to bring you as bait is much more entertaining. You needn’t worry though. I won’t allow anyone else to harm you while we wait for them.”

“Why not?” I asked, my mouth getting ahead of my thoughts. They could beat me senseless, throw me in a dungeon, and still keep me as live bait.

Dulanzo cocked his head and casually gestured to my belly with a hand. “It”s early. We”d hate to lose a new soldier before knowing it”s worth,” he explained. Then he slid closer, though not quite touching me—his long arm draped across the back of the sofa while he leaned in closer still. Combined with the horrible pressure of his presence I felt distinctly pinned and my instincts started screaming at me to run.

I scooted back against the sofa arm and braced to fling myself over it while my eyes flicked around, searching for the nearest heavy object I could use as a weapon. Unfortunately, the space was free of any useful clutter.

He reached out with one long finger and used it to turn my face back toward him. “Look at me,” he murmured. I recoiled from his touch, breaking the contact. Then he grabbed my chin hard enough to leave bruises and gave it a rough shake. “Look at me,” he demanded with a snarl in his voice. My temper flared and I glared directly into his deep set, scarlet eyes. “There you are,” he crooned. “Now tell me, which one of my brothers got this child in you?” His tone was disapproving, as though my being with child was disgraceful somehow.

I jerked my face away from him trying to hide the fear and … inexplicable shame just under the surface of my anger. Damn him! I gritted my teeth. I had nothing to be ashamed of.

He smiled down at me and pressed a fraction closer. Reflexively, my forearm came up to brace across his chest and I raised a knee to press against his belly. He simply leaned into it, though he didn’t try to push further. Within moments I was gasping for breath to feed my waning strength. His scent was overwhelming now, inescapable … and wrong. He smelled like the caverns around us—of minerals leeching down from the surface in the ground water. It wasn’t a scent for living creatures, but he was unmistakably alive. I felt his body heat and heard the distinctive beat of his heart in the silence. It was as if he’d spent so long living in this horrible place that he had simply become part of it.

A cruel smile curled across his face; gnashing teeth bared. He released my chin and tucked a lock of damp hair behind my ear. “I know it”s one of them. I can smell our magic in your pores. Is it Lobikno?” he asked and shifted to put more pressure on my pathetic defense. “Lhoris?”

I didn’t react … I didn’t know.

“Oh,” his eyes widened, and smile shifted to sharp, mocking delight. “You don’t know which. Living up to the woodland reputation for promiscuity, I see.”

He clucked his tongue, chiding me, and shook his head before lazily tracing a finger across my collarbone, down my sternum, between my breasts and laid his palm flat on my abdomen. It felt possessive and so, so wrong.

“When you’re a little further along,” he murmured with a lover’s caress in his voice, as if playing at seduction, “I’m going to come for you. I will fuck you, repeatedly. And after this baby is born,” his fingers pressed harder against my belly, “others will come fuck you. And you’ll have another child.” I went cold at the thought and my empty stomach quailed. “You’ll one day provide me with a legion,” he whispered so close I could taste his breath when I gasped.

“No,” I whispered back, fear rolling off of me in waves. While the elf that harassed me before we arrived had suggested something similar, hearing it from Dulanzo’s lips made it more than a threat.

Dulanzo ignored my answer and cocked his head. “Are you really so easily cowed? Everything about you screams fighter. How disappointing.”

What the fuck?

My temper flared again, and I spit in his face. He snarled and in the blink of an eye, his long fingers curled around my throat, choking. Better dead than a broodmare. When the arm braced against his chest gave way and he yanked me closer. I dug my nails into his wrist, but it didn’t deter him.

Painful pressure built in my head and I hardly noticed when he leaned in and placed a kiss on the corner of my mouth. He released enough to let me gasp and cough, though his hand stayed at my throat. “Better,” he crooned with a smile, “but, don’t think your value as a breeding vessel means I won’t hurt you, if necessary,” he said, wiping saliva off his face. “Spit without my command again and I’ll muzzle you.”

Then he released me and reclined back into his side of the sofa. I bolted like a drunken rabbit, careening into the table in pure panic, before reaching the door and yanking it open.

Running was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t stop myself. Dulanzo seemed content to watch me flee though, like a cat that knows the mouse is good and trapped … free to play with me for as long as he wants before getting to the kill.

My limbs gave out completely in the hallway and I fell to my knees in front of pervy-elf and his friend. They looked bored while they hauled me to my feet and took orders from Dulanzo in their tongue. I recognized their word for food and my stomach snarled audibly. They dragged me to the kitchen and gave me a modest meal of mushrooms and bread. I shoveled food into my mouth and gulped water down like an animal, moaning in pleasure at the filling of my stomach. Then I was just exhausted and wilted into the chair.

It was only then I felt the pressure of three sets of eyes on me. My two escorts and the cook noticed my inattention. My exhaustion. They probably even sensed the fear that lingered about me. I straightened in my seat and met their gazes, one at a time. I am not prey.

Pervy-elf stepped to the side and, with a mocking bow and sweeping gesture of his hand, invited me to leave my seat.

I wasn’t entirely sure I could, but the alternative … I edged off the seat and, powered by pure spite, remained standing.

I gave him a chilly smile. “After you.”

He snorted and led the way, the other elf following behind.

We walked for what felt like ages, tired as I was. Down more confusing corridors, down an incline, and down a long flight of stairs before turning into a narrow hall with a handful of heavy wooden doors on either side. Pervy-elf unlocked the first door on the left and gestured for me to enter the chilly, pitch-black chamber beyond—presumably my prison. When the door closed and locked behind me, I conjured my pitiful fairy light. The flame usually resembled simple candlelight, but after hours of such darkness, it shone like a torch to my eyes.

There was a bed—large enough for two, I noted, and shuddered. There was a chamber pot and a bit of pipe with a lever that must be the cold-water source pervy-elf had mentioned and a hole in the floor beneath it, likely a drain.

The light sputtered out and I shuffled toward where the bed should be. I didn’t try to summon light again until I felt the coarse linens against my fingertips. My nose told me they were stale but clean. The light only lasted a handful of seconds this time, but it was long enough to see the bedposts were worn where one might tie down its occupant. My throat tightened as the light guttered and finally blinked out. It was just as well. Who knows what other unsettling details it might reveal.

“One terrible thing at a time,” I sighed to myself.

It was time to lay down and recover. Afterall, I would need my strength if I was going to escape. A few days of food and rest were in order before making an attempt.

I crawled between the sheets and pulled the light blanket up to my chin.

Despite my exhaustion, sleep was elusive. Alone in the darkness, I longed for the warmth of Lhoris’ body. Though not just because of the chill. Capable as I was, there was a sense of security in having someone skilled and trustworthy at my back. But … it was so much more than that. His quick smile. His kind and generous heart. He made me feel cherished without treating me like I was fragile, and he wasn’t put off by my rough edges. He never underestimated me or made me feel inadequate.

He”d given me such hope. Something I hadn’t much experienced. Something that definitely didn’t exist in these tunnels.

I hugged myself and curled around my bent knees remembering how he’d teased me in the hammock; that his absence would leave me longing. He probably hadn’t meant longing of the heart, but he hadn’t been far off.

I had been so worried that Emma pushed us together more than we realized, especially after her apologies. But there I was, underground, days away from her influence and pained by his absence. I finally, fully believed that my love for him was real. The shame of it hurt worse than the loneliness. Shame for having to go this far to accept what my heart had been trying to tell me.

I tucked my chin against my chest and finally allowed myself to cry.