Chapter 24
Hawk
T he flowers on the table feel real, as does its wooden surface. Everything else I’ve touched since ending up in the tavern is sturdy and not at all made-up, yet a part of me worries I’ve swallowed strong hallucinogens, and am currently tripping in some random place. Pinching my skin doesn’t pull me out of this strange dream either, but can I trust my senses if I am on drugs?
“Stay still, please,” the elf adjusting my clothes says, and I stiffen as he moves the little stepladder he’s using to work on the upper part of the garment. Unable to make anything from scratch on short notice, the tailor decided to use the largest outfit he could find and cut open its seams so that it fits me. The garment is designed to be one of those black goth coats that brush the floor with every step of the wearer, but it only reaches my knees, and all the spots where it needed to be widened in order to accommodate my bulk are obscured with flowy, velvet fabric in a dark blue shade draped with the aid of silver buttons.
The whole thing is like a costume to my eyes, something straight off the stages of Broadway, and while it makes me look surprisingly regal, most of the people I’ve known in my former life would have laughed if they saw me like this. Still, I did leave them behind, so does their opinion matter?
“I have never seen a human as formidable as you,” the tailor says, and my eyebrows rise as I watch his fingers speed up with the needle. He’s like a human—elven sewing machine at this point. Would his pace already be considered magic, or is this just a skill here, the same way cleaning guns is back in my world?
“You mean tall?” I ask, meeting his green eyes. He is a handsome fellow with a wide, smiling mouth and pronounced cheekbones. I would definitely swipe right if I found him on Grindr. His long black braid would be very grabbable.
He’s not even looking at the stitch he’s working on, as if it’s that easy for him. “And broad. And awe-inspiring. I have never seen that much chest hair either.”
I’m not that undressed anymore, but I do recall him blushing when I first took off my hoodie.
A part of me still worries this is all an illusion, but I choose to give him the benefit of the doubt and clear my throat as nimble fingers brush my neck. “So… do you often see humans around here?”
“No, they are very rare. I have only ever seen a few and all were exceptionally handsome,” he says and smooths the fabric of my sleeves as he steps off the ladder and circles me with a fond smile. He’s nowhere near Sylvan-tiny, but still a head shorter than me and slender.
A laugh escapes my lips. “You must only be importing the best specimens.”
“Only. Can you grow one of those… beards?” he asks and brushes the stubble on my cheek with the back of his hand.
I raise my eyebrows. “You do know I’m getting married tonight, right?”
The elf pulls his hand away but isn’t in a rush to do so. I’m flattered by the attention, and I can barely believe I’m rejecting it, but thinking of Sylvan’s pretty flushed cheeks is enough for me to dream of no one else in my bed.
“I’ve heard you are to be his Dark Companion though. Not all of those bonds are romantic in nature. As far as I know, royal shadow-wielders often also have another spouse.”
It’s like being injected with acid.
Fury rushes through my veins and makes my ears thud as I stare at the elf, imagining a reality where Sylvan chooses a second husband, maybe even a wife, so his bloodline continues. I can’t believe the intense hate I’m feeling for this theoretical person who doesn’t even exist.
All of a sudden, I’m angry that we’re wasting time on getting dressed up instead of getting married already. The need to make Sylvan mine is so urgent, so visceral, it reminds me of getting shanked in prison. As I fell to the floor, bleeding my guts out, all I wanted was to make Samson pay with his life. That’s how much I crave Sylvan’s vow to me.
“He’s not getting another spouse,” I rumble in a voice so low the tailor’s skin flushes as he looks up at me.
“Oh. So this is a love match? Have you known the prince long?” There is no malice in his question, just curiosity, yet I’m still buzzing with the unresolved urge to punch things.
“I know him well enough to be sure he’s the one I want,” I say as confidence floods me with warmth. So maybe he didn’t tell me about all the intricacies of elven royal polygamy, but we’ve had much more important stuff to do. It doesn’t have to mean he intends to marry four more elven husbands behind my back.
He’d have to kill me first.
Which is also an uneasy thought, because I have seen he’s capable of murder. But that was kinda hot, since he killed Tassarion for me.
“Do you not worry that you might be dragged into a dangerous situation because of his banishment?” The tailor cocks his head at me, brows drawn. He’s worried about me, which is… nice, if surprising.
“I’m a bit of a fugitive myself,” I tell him and grin at the way he takes half a step back. “So I’ll take my chances with the hot elven royal.”
When the tailor says nothing, staring at me as if he were both aroused and frightened—which is quite a common occurrence in my sex life—I step past him and look into the tall, decorated mirror, which still presents me with no reflection and instead remains blurred like frosted glass. “I was told this room is vampire-themed. Does this mean you have vampires in the Nightmare Realm?”
The tailor clears his throat and opens his mouth, but then the mirror slides to the side as if someone moved it with their mind. I imagine the mirror might be the lid of a hidden coffin, and this time it’s me who steps back with my palms raised, ready to meet a fucking vampire.
Dressed in an elegant velvet jacket, Sylvan stands at the mouth of a corridor that was hidden behind the mirror all along. I sigh in relief, taking in his lovely form in the new clothes. He’s often serious, but his current expression still gives me pause.
“Everything… all right?” I ask, because why would he come here through some hidden passage without a valid reason?
Sylvan swallows and steps into the room. He spares the tailor only a glance. “Leave us,” he says, as if we were already back at court. He’s more used to servants than he ever was to flipping burgers, and I can’t help but find it arousing. I love him when he gets all sweet and submissive, but there’s also a confidence in him that I greatly admire.
The tailor hesitates, then bows awkwardly before leaving.
I grab Sylvan’s hands the moment we’re alone. “Tell me everything,” I say, desperate to wipe the worry from his face and replace it with one of his beautiful smiles.
Sylvan looks up. “How marvelous you look in black. And this coat…” He strokes my forearm, and I relax a little, because if he has time to compliment me, then the world isn’t falling apart.
“You don’t need blue velvet to look magnificent. Honestly, if it didn’t mean all those people would see your body, I would gladly marry you naked,” I tell him, wordlessly inviting him into my arms.
He’s so quick to hug me he stumbles and faceplants right between my pecs, but that’s where he loves to be, so no harm done.
I’m guessing we have time for that too, since he’s not telling me we need to run from bounty hunters, or something.
“Maybe I was born so small to fit well into your embrace,” he whispers, tense under my touch.
I melt and lower myself to one knee. For once he is slightly taller than me as I kiss his hands. Any and all doubts I had about this new reality disperse, because even if this is all happening in my mind, I do not want to wake up from a dream where I’m so very wanted.
“I like that. Then maybe I was born so strong and tall so you could always lean on me?”
He makes the tiniest whimper and squeezes my hands. I swear his eyes are glossing over. And when he opens his mouth to speak, he doesn’t seem able to choke out even one word.
That makes me frown. “Sylvan? Did something happen? Do I need to rearrange someone’s face?”
“No, I just… I cannot wait a minute longer. And in fact, I do not wish to wait until after the reception, as is the usual way. I can’t bear that you are not yet mine. So much can happen in a few hours, and if you were to be taken from me because I am unable to protect you, I would never forgive myself.”
I stall, still on my knee before him as he trembles with emotion, fighting tears, as if I were a piece of jewelry anyone could just snatch off the counter. Thinking about it makes me smile, but then I remember the strange pull I felt when the grimsmith tied our shadows, and it sinks in that Sylvan’s fears are in fact very real.
“You want to… skip the party?”
“No, I wish for us to make our vows now. I want you to become my Dark Companion, and for our hearts to be forever tied. I don’t care for tradition, for what others may think of me, or that this moon is fake.” He points to the large lamp above us, which imitates a moon glowing red. “The one outside is very real, full, and it will bless our bond whenever we choose to make it.”
My heart flutters in a way it hasn’t since the day I chose to kill for a man I thought I loved. That decision proved disastrous. I lost my freedom and found out he’s been manipulating me all along. But Sylvan? He’s wearing his heart on his sleeve, and I love that about him.
With elation radiating inside me, I pluck the titanium ring out of my pocket and show it to my fiancé. It’s a trinket, really, studded with crystals. I don’t think they’re precious gems, but what do I know? One is clear and sparkly, one is red and one is blue. I stole it from Tassarion’s workshop, and while that bastard earned everything he got, I have to admit that he had talent for this metalsmithing thing.
“Do you know what this tradition means in my world?” I ask, pushing it on Sylvan’s ring finger. I frown when it proves way too loose on his dainty hand, but such things can be corrected in the future.
His pale face flushes. “My apologies, I am not sure.”
I... did not expect that response, but I can work with it. Worse hurdles have been thrown my way in the past, so I smile, rub my face against his palm, and kiss it. “Marry me, Sylvan Goldweed. Now.”
Sylvan brightens with a smile so wide and so joyful, my heart leaps. He’s a beautiful elven prince, and he wants me . “And this ring means that?” He looks at the trinket on his finger, amazed as if I gave him a star from the sky.
“If you accept it, it means you agree,” I say and rise to my feet, already knowing his answer. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want me. He wouldn’t risk everything for me, nor kill for me, yet here we are. Still, I add, “please.”
“I will. I do. I accept it,” he says, as if he expects me to take back my offer if he doesn’t take it fast enough. He’s glowing when he stands on his toes and pulls me down by my elaborate cravat for a kiss. His lips are so soft, so welcoming, and he said yes to my proposal. I knew my suffering would eventually lead me somewhere good. Even in my darkest moments, I’ve never lost hope and it’s why I crawled out of that river in what I thought was a dream. I could have given in to despair and let the current take me, but deep in my gut, I knew there was more for me.
And here it is, in my arms, and it has the form of the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
“Then let’s do it,” I urge him. “Let’s marry now!”
There are whole galaxies in his eyes, and each time I peek into them, the need to take a leap of faith becomes more insistent. I don't think I’ve ever wanted anything this much.
Sylvan slips out of my grasp, and I already miss his fresh smell, his warmth. Determination and focus are back on his face as he looks around. “Yes. All you truly need to do once I cover us with my shadow, is vow that you are mine, body, soul, and shadow. And mean it. But!” He raises his finger when I’m about to say these magic words, because fuck yes, I can say it and mean it. This tiny cutie owns me already, even if it’s him who’s mine in the sheets. “Bear with me a second, I want to do things right. Or as right as possible,” he adds, exasperated, when he plucks a big red rose out of a lush bouquet on a side table. “Tradition dictates the rose should be of the midnight blue variety, but this will do.”
I remember another thing he’s talked about extensively and dash for the window. As soon as I pull away the curtain, we are covered in the glow of a moon larger than any I’ve ever seen, and for a moment I forget why I’ve uncovered it in the first place.
I almost feel its cool radiance, as if it were the morning sun in the summer. “It’s so… so different.”
“It’s closer to us than the one in your world,” Sylvan says and approaches me with the rose. “I hope you will be able to enjoy it as much as the sun.”
“I’d rather have you than the sun.” I slide both my hands under his jaw. His neck is delicate, like a bird’s, and I promise myself that he will never be harmed as long as I’m around. No matter what I have to do in this strange new world, I will take care of him in ways his family never did.
He looks up at me, so full of emotion, and I’m reminded of how he grabbed a stool at the grimsmith’s to reach my lips for a kiss.
“Would you like to be higher?” I point to a large chest he could stand on, but he stops me when I try to move.
“No. I want you to see me as I am and choose me still,” Sylvan says with all seriousness, as if he had warts all over his face, not skin smooth as porcelain, sweet pink lips, and a compact body I imagine naked whenever my thoughts drift off.
I nod, eyes pinned to his earnest expression. “Of course I choose you. How could I choose anyone else now that I met you?”
I feel like the biggest sap when my eyes start stinging, but the words come straight from my heart. My brothers always mocked me for my interest in pretty twinks, but they don’t get it. I have a soft side I can only show to someone who isn’t like me. Sylvan’s personality might be all jagged edges on the outside, but they fit mine like we’re two pieces of the same broken vase. Life has dragged us both over the gravel in different ways, and to him, I can be important, special. Not just because of my shadow. I sense in his touch, in his kisses, and in his words, that he needs to be taken care of.
He can handle himself. Hell, he was the one to lead us here, to get his collar off, and to kill a man who stood in his way. But he’s so fragile in places he shows no one else but me. He seeks my hugs and attention like an abandoned kitten, and I’ll never betray him. He might be a prince of the Nocturne Court and some shadow wielding mage, but I can give him the safety and affection he craves. If this is all some elaborate scheme at manipulating me, then so be it.
I gasp when his pale shadow rises off the floor behind him like a silent ghost. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispers when I flinch, but when the shadow expands and settles over us like a widow’s veil, a strange sense of peace overcomes me.
“So now, I grab this rose by the stem,” Sylvan explains, and I’m about to stop him at the sight of sharp thorns, but it’s too late. He closes his palm and squeezes it with a hiss. “And now you put your hand over mine,” he says, holding the rose between us.
I spot a droplet of blood sliding down his hand and hope this ritual doesn’t involve any more pain on his side. I want to grab a piece of cloth and wrap his hand, but he is the one who knows what he’s doing, so I swallow my discomfort and cradle his slender hand in mine, like he told me. I tower over him in every way, yet when our eyes meet, I know he’d be as ready to stand between me and danger as I am for him.
“And now?” I whisper, afraid the sound of my voice might shatter the spell that’s meant to connect us forever.
“This gesture symbolizes that even though I take your shadow, I will not abuse your trust. I will take the brunt of any injury.” Sylvan is so earnest as he looks into my eyes. His hand is so dainty in mine, but he’s the one bleeding, and I get it, suddenly choked up.
With my size, and the violence I so easily mete out, I never thought anyone would consider wanting to be my protector. I always thought that I would always be the one to give while my partner takes. Yet here Sylvan is, promising to bleed for me. I’m so touched I don’t know what to do with myself, but Sylvan saves me by speaking.
“You are truly my promised, a man brought to me by destiny. I never imagined I would one day have a Dark Companion of my own, let alone one who is also my lover. I know you’re leaving behind your world, and everything you know, so this is my promise that I’ll make sure you never regret choosing me. I would have not been able to save you from the River of Souls, and yet a twist of fate sent you my way. You give me courage, you make me believe in myself, you make me laugh, and you touched parts of me that no one ever has.”
Sylvan shoves me gently when I smirk. “I don’t mean those parts!” He takes a deep breath and goes on while my insides turn into mush. “I love you, and I will never abuse my position. I will trust you, I will cherish you, and if you ever find yourself in darkness, I will be your moonlight. And as I promised you when we met, my body is yours.”
It might be cliche, but I really do feel at a loss for words as he makes his declaration in a voice trembling with emotion. So I swallow and lean closer as the warm glow of the moon’s rays caresses my face. Nobody has ever even tried saying such things to me. I’m almost afraid that I don’t deserve so much love, that Sylvan’s belief in me is misplaced. But as joy bubbles in the middle of my chest, I find the strength to chase away doubts and tell myself that whether I am worthy of trust or not is up to me, and the very idea of disappointing this sweet man, who’s picked me over others makes me ache.
I clear my throat, noticing that my silence is unnerving to him. “I… I don’t know such pretty words. I would write a poem for you, if I could, but since I don’t know how, I want you to know this: I will always be in your corner, okay? If you jump down a cliff, I will follow. You’re the one who makes plans, and I’ll help you fulfill your dreams, because being at your side already fulfills mine. I will do my best so that you’re always happy and so you never regret bonding to me.”
My lips dry as I squeeze his hands more firmly. I know I can never satisfy his poetic heart, but maybe I don’t have to? Maybe all he needs from me is what I can offer? “I love you.”
“Hawk…” Sylvan whispers, and a tear slides down his cheek.
I kiss it off his skin. I want to always be there to dry his tears. “Is this… Are we married now?” I ask, giddy like a kid offered a ball of cotton candy bigger than his head.
Sylvan snorts, looking just as happy as I feel. “You still need to say the words and mean them.”
“Ah yes!” I got so overwhelmed with my vow that I completely forgot about it, but I still remember the sentence he told me earlier, so I repeat it to him, full of excitement for what this next chapter of my life will bring. “Sylvan Goldweed, the most handsome elf ever, I promise you that from now on I am yours, body, soul, and shadow.”
Sylvan gasps, and his pupils dilate, but I feel it too.
The connection that was only a thread before, no thicker than a single strand of hair, barely noticeable, becomes a stream. Invisible, yet so clear. I am squeezing his hand over the rose, but I swear I can sense his heartbeat against my chest.
No. Inside me. That’s how close he is.
Sylvan’s lips tremble, and when his pulse quickens, I sense it under my skin. He drops the rose and it falls into what looks like a pit of darkness under our feet. It’s so black and endless my instincts scream for me to leap away to the carpet. But Sylvan is standing on this shadow too, so I stay.
He’s struggling to catch his breath, so I slide my arm around his waist to steady him.
“There’s… there’s just… so much of it,” he utters in amazement, leaning into me.
I give a short laugh, even though I’m emotional as if someone has injected me with pure adrenaline. “So I’ve been told.”
Sylvan laughs louder than my joke deserves, but it’s the sweetest sound. So carefree and full of delight. His heart is racing as if he were on the verge of orgasm, and it’s kinda making me horny. Does this early bonding mean we get to have an early wedding night too?
He places a hand on my chest, fingers splayed, and when he pulls it away, thick black goo is stuck to it like chewing gum.
Sylvan glances up at me with a grin. “Hawk, I promise, I would have loved you regardless, but this is amazing, and I’ve not even scratched the surface. The things I will do with this…” He arches up to kiss me like usual, but then, just as I’m about to pull him in my arms, the shadows under his feet grow and lift him so he can reach my lips with ease.
I suck in warm air straight from his mouth, elated and somehow even more in tune with his body. I sense sparks wherever we touch, and when he plays with my liquid shadow, twisting it in his fingers, it’s almost as if he were touching me on the inside. Not physically, but somewhere beyond that. In my… soul.
It’s corny, yeah, but how else can I describe something so far beyond my experience?
My toes curl. My lips tremble, and as he stretches the black threads between his hands, I lean forward and capture his mouth in a kiss. I cannot take this strange contact-no contact moment where it’s my shadow being touched instead of my flesh, but he responds with a soft moan, and his knee slides up the side of my leg, as if he were trying to climb me.
Sylvan looks back at the door. “M-maybe we could…” He licks his lips, and I know exactly what he wants. I pick him up and carry him to one of the lush red couches with one thing on my mind.
Of course that’s the moment the door opens and Fenren steps in, closely followed by the tailor who worked on my clothes. “No! Why would you spoil the fun for yourselves and your guests?” he asks as if I or Sylvan had any reason to care about the opinions of random elves, who happened to stay at the same inn. But the moment of passion’s been disrupted, and when my man scrambles to his feet, I know fun time is over.
I’m guessing the King of Smugglers won’t be as easy to dismiss as the tailor was.
Sylvan clears his throat and spreads his arms. “It is hard to stay away from my beloved.”
“I have brought some grooming supplies,” the tailor says, while all I can focus on is Sylvan and the new, unfamiliar bond between us.
When my husband reaches the doorway, he turns, kisses his hand, then blows me that smooch in the form of a small heart formed from shadow. It floats my way like smoke until it lands on my cheek.
I have never felt so loved, and I cannot wait for everyone to witness our union.