Chapter 4 #2
“Excuse me,” Beth said, indignant. “I’ve been close with Aryon and Elara for years. I love them like family and they’re two of the most powerful magiks out there on top of being very hot.”
“Exactly. Like family. You love them like a brother and a sister.” Ann raised a finger. “Gael? Not brother vibes. Gael is giving you filthy vibes and now you’re horny and confused.”
“Stop it!” Beth felt the rush of blood in her cheeks and blamed it on anger. “He’s a legit ass. Remember Litha? The way he talked? He didn’t even address that today.”
“True.” Ann nodded. “Also true? I don’t mind repeating myself—he’s hot. And broody. And powerful.”
“So?”
Her friend shrugged. “So, you don’t trust power, you have zero patience for brooding, and hotness bores you–when taken one at a time. But Gael is all three, and I think it’s driving you nuts that he still makes you want to climb him like a tree.”
Beth stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “You’re serious.”
Ann popped a peanut into her mouth. “Yep.”
“For real.”
“Look, I’m not saying he’s a prize or anything. He was a dick to you at Litha and if he’s interested, he owes you an explanation for that.” Ann shrugged. “But what do you really know about him? Not the assumptions, not what Bryn told you. Just him?”
Beth sighed, grabbed a fistful of mixed nuts, and stuffed them in her mouth to crunch her feelings away. “You’re crazy,” she mumbled through cashew and regret.
“Am I?” Ann arched a brow. “Or am I just outside the emotional blast zone and better equipped to see through your dramatic elf problems?”
“No, no. You’re definitely crazy.”
“For the record,” Ann added, sobering slightly, “I don’t like Bryn.”
Beth blinked. “Really? I didn’t know you even knew him.”
“Talked to him a couple of times, nothing major. He gives me a weird vibe. Like there’s something slimy just under the surface. Doesn’t matter, you’re not into him. But since I’m already butting into your life, that’s my take.”
Beth fell quiet, chewing on almonds and Ann’s words. They’d come from different heartbreaks but landed in similar places made of independence, safety, and control. But Ann had this gut instinct about people. It wasn’t magic, just hard-won intuition. And the worst part?
She was usually right.
Which meant there might be more truth in Gael’s words than she’d wanted to believe.
Ann grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV. “Have you watched the new show about the Tudors on Netflix?”
“No,” Beth replied, distracted, lost in her thoughts.
“Supposed to be great. Want to watch it?”
“You know I do.”
“I’ll go get more snacks and blankets.” Ann stood and was already halfway to the kitchen when she said, “You should totally text him a dirty pic.”
Beth groaned and pulled a pillow over her face.
THE PUB WAS QUIET, as it usually was after the lunch rush and before the after-work crowd.
Harlan, a retired guide in his eighties, sat at his usual table with a steaming cup of his usual tea subtly fortified with tonic by the twins, and a dog-eared Sudoku magazine. Near the window, a tourist couple from Seattle lingered over pie and coffee, debating tomorrow’s hike.
Beth and Elara sat at a side table with mugs of herbal tea, elbow-deep in the monthly inventory logs, a lull-day ritual neither of them loved but both endured.
“I know something’s on your mind,” Elara said gently, eyes still scanning the papers. “Your aura’s all weird. Not worried, just... unsteady. Undecided.”
Leave it to the High Lady to read her like a well-worn book.
“Should I bother lying?”
“You could,” Elara said, lifting her eyes with a faint smile. “But I’d know. And I’d worry. Because why wouldn’t you talk to me? We always talk.”
Beth sighed and dropped her pen a little too hard, the soft thunk on the wood betraying her frustration. “It’s nothing big. Just...” She hesitated, fingers tightening around her mug. “You’re the High Lady.”
“Yes.”
“So you know things. Bad things.”
Elara’s smile faded, and she leaned back in her chair. She didn’t change, exactly, but her eyes hardened a bit, weariness passing over her face. “Yes,” she said softly. “I do.”
Beth hesitated, then sat up straighter. “So... okay. Direct approach. Is it true Bryn manipulated someone in your family into being with him?”
Elara blinked—actually blinked. Surprise, yes. But what followed was something colder, deeper. Her expression sharpened, lips tightening with fury. “Where did you hear that?”
“I guess that’s part two of this conversation,” Beth said. “But can you tell me what happened first?”
Elara’s gaze dropped to her mug. She turned it slowly in her hands.
“Magic’s complicated,” she said carefully.
“Human laws only go so far. Magiks living out in the open is still new, at least by elven standards.” She glanced up, serious now.
“A lot of what keeps things running is tradition and vigilance. The High Family carries most of that weight, especially when safety’s on the line. ”
She looked up, her voice steady but tinged with old weight. “Aureth is our cousin from our father’s side. Not a close relation, but family. She was staying with us for a summer when she met Bryn. He can be charming.”
“But?”
“But while he’s not especially powerful, his affinity is emotional coercion.
It’s subtle, persuasive, layered.” Elara’s voice softened.
“Aureth’s stronger now, but back then...
she was young, still developing her shields.
Maybe like a human fresh out of high school.
” She shook her head. “Aryon and I knew she planned to end it. Just a summer fling, she said. But Bryn didn’t want it to end.
Being tied to the High Family would’ve been an enormous social leap for him.
We could see his intentions weren’t pure. ”
Beth said nothing, waiting.
“No one but Bryn really knows what happened that night,” Elara said quietly. “She went to him willingly, it seemed, but the next morning, she didn’t remember being herself. She remembered saying yes–to being with him, sleeping with him, even getting engaged. But it was all a blur.”
Elara’s fingers tightened around her mug. “Aureth was clear. She might have said the words, but she hadn’t wanted to. She said it felt like something had pressed on her thoughts. Like her emotions didn’t belong to her.”
“Because they didn’t,” Beth said flatly.
“We suspected that, too,” Elara said. “But it was too clean. No trace of magic. Nothing crude or violent. He used his gift so carefully, it left no residue. Her aura was confused, not damaged, just enough to muddy things. Had she been weaker, she wouldn’t have realized things were not right and she would have gone through the entire thing, making him part of the High Family.
” She exhaled. “We believed her. Absolutely. But we could prove neither intent nor coercion. And we couldn’t act without risking our own laws.
” Her voice turned flat. “We don’t get to punish someone just for being an ass. ”
“But Gael did.”
Elara’s eyebrows rose, surprised but not angry. “You really are digging through the family vault, aren’t you?”
“I’m getting there.”
She nodded. “Then, yes. Gael paid Bryn a visit. No one knows exactly what was said, except that Bryn filed a complaint afterward. Officially. Said Gael threatened him.”
“Did he?”
Elara took a slow breath. “Among other things, I’m sure.”
“Did you know he was going to face Bryn?”
“No. And that was the point.” Her voice softened.
“He didn’t tell us because if he had, we would’ve had to stop him, or risk consequences ourselves.
The High Family is expected to be neutral.
Impartial. Gael knows that. He broke protocol, and we didn’t find out until after the complaint came through. ”
“Did he get in trouble?”
“Oh, yes. There was a private disciplinary review. He was heavily fined. Quietly, of course.”
Beth stared at her. “He was punished for protecting someone.”
Elara met her eyes, unwavering. “Yes, and he made it so we wouldn’t be. He took that burden from us.”
Beth looked down, fingers tapping on the table.
“He protected us, too,” Elara added gently.
Beth’s throat tightened. The sadness in Gael’s message. The hurt in his eyes when she accused him of being just another cold, privileged elf.
And now?
Now, she wasn’t sure how to feel.
“Now it’s your turn,” Elara said more lightly. “Tell me how you know all this.”
Beth shifted, not exactly embarrassed, but suddenly aware of herself. She rubbed her thumb along the rim of her mug. “Gael told me.”
Elara blinked. “He did?”
Beth nodded.
“That’s... surprising,” Elara said, brows lifting. “I don’t know many people as private as Gael, and that’s not exactly a story he wears with pride.”
Beth let out a slow breath and, after a glance around the quiet pub, began to talk.
The garden. The apple dicing. The hike invitation. How it all spiraled into something ugly and unexpected. When she finished, Elara said nothing but her jaw was tight and her silence too careful. She looked like someone working hard to keep her tone neutral and winning the battle by inches.
“We...” She cleared her throat. “We try to keep an eye on Bryn. Especially around people, or magiks, he might try to involve himself with.”
“I was never involved with him,” Beth said quickly. “I didn’t want to be.”
“I know. And that’s exactly the kind of thing that worries us. What he wants and doesn’t get.”
Beth looked down. “Gael told me to be careful,” she murmured, a thread of guilt catching in her voice.
“I back that advice,” Elara said firmly. “And I’m more concerned now, knowing he’s been spreading false stories on top of everything.”
“What are you going to do?”
Elara sat back and sighed, fingers tapping once against her mug. “I’ll talk to Aryon. We’ll decide together. We can’t act without full context, but... we’ll see.”
Then, with a shift in posture and warmth returning to her eyes, she tilted her head and smiled. The High Lady faded; her friend stepped in. “So,” she said, voice light, “he asked you on a hike?”
Beth huffed a small laugh. “I guess I owe him an apology.”
“Because you said no?”
“No. Because...” Beth took a breath, grounding herself.
“You know how I get when someone in charge tells me what to do. When Bryn told me that story, it hit a nerve. I reacted to the idea of control, of being manipulated. But it wasn’t about Gael.
That was my baggage, not his, and it was unfair to throw it at him. ”
Elara nodded, considering. Then a spark lit her eyes. “How about this? We’ll all go on the hike.”
Beth blinked. “We?”
“You. Me. Ann, if she’s up for it. Aryon. Maybe Emma and Rick. Just a group of friends. No pressure. No date energy, just a fun afternoon out in the woods.”
Beth considered it. Weighed the pros and cons. The risk. “I like hiking.”
“So do we.” Elara grinned, practically bouncing in her seat. “This is exciting. Gael never–never mind.”
“I mind. What?”
Elara gave her a helpless little shrug. “He’s not known for dating.”
Beth blinked. “What now? Him? With the way he looks and who he is?”
“That’s exactly why,” Elara said, her smile softening.
And suddenly, Beth understood. More than ever. How much Elara and Aryon hid, how much they smoothed over, how much distance they had to keep just to live peacefully among everyone else.
“Is it the same for you and Aryon?” she asked.
Elara nodded. “We read people. Their feelings, their intentions.” She gave a small shrug. “Not everyone’s emotions are kind. Some are greedy. Some are just bad. And we live a long time, Beth. That makes you cautious. Selective.”
“You are always so good to me,” Beth said. “Like family.”
“Same reason why Gael asked you out,” Elara said quietly. “Because you don’t care about our status or what we can do. You care about who we are.”
Beth swallowed. “Now you’re making me feel all the feelings.”
“You’re welcome,” Elara grinned. She pulled out her phone. “Now. Let’s see who we can guilt-trip into hiking and when.”