16. Lirien
16
LIRIEN
M y fists pound against Darak's back as he carries me through the busy marketplace, filled almost entirely by humans who openly glare at him. The blood rushes to my head, making my temples throb. His shoulder digs into my stomach with each step, and my silver hair dangles like a curtain, drawing even more attention to this humiliating display.
"Put me down this instant." I smack his leather armor again, knowing it won't hurt him but hoping to make my point.
"No." His grip on my legs tightens.
A group of merchants pause their haggling to stare. A child points and giggles. My cheeks burn hot enough to rival the summer sun beating down on us.
"I mean it, Darak. This is ridiculous."
"You're the one making a scene." His voice carries that infuriating hint of amusement. "If you'd stopped struggling five minutes ago, we'd be halfway there by now."
I go limp across his shoulder, exhausted from the futile resistance. "Why are you doing this?"
"I saw what your feet looked like last night." His voice softens, losing its teasing edge. "Just get comfortable."
The gentle concern in his words spreads warmth through my chest, different from my earlier embarrassment.
Darak freezes mid-step, and my stomach lurches against his shoulder. Through my curtain of silver hair, I spot three men blocking our path, their faces hard with determination. One holds a pitchfork, another a woodcutter's axe.
Human's have made camps here in Prazh, and so Dark Elves don't find any value of traveling here. That, and seeing one of them cart a human woman around like a sack of flour has probably ruffled their feathers.
"Put her down," the tallest one demands, his voice trembling despite his stern expression. "Your kind aren't in charge around here."
"Move." Darak's tone carries that dangerous edge I've come to recognize. His muscles tense beneath me, and I can feel him shifting his weight, ready to reach for his sword.
My heart races. These men don't understand – they think they're helping, but they'll only get themselves killed. I've seen what Darak can do to trained warriors. These farmers wouldn't stand a chance.
"I said put her?—"
"Hi there!" I twist around, flashing my brightest smile at the group. The sudden movement makes my head spin, but I maintain the cheerful expression. "Sorry for all the ruckus. This is my husband's way of trying to keep me off my feet."
The men exchange confused glances. The one with the pitchfork lowers it slightly.
"Your... husband?" The tall one's eyes narrow as he studies Darak's ash-gray skin and crimson eyes.
"Yes," I say quickly, patting Darak's back. "I hurt my ankle yesterday, and he's being rather overprotective about it. Aren't you, dear?"
Darak's grip on my legs tightens in warning. I dig my nails into his shoulder in response.
"She's telling the truth," a woman's voice calls out. An elderly merchant I'd noticed earlier steps forward from her stall. "Been watching them bicker like an old married couple since they left the docks."
The tension in the air dissipates as a few onlookers chuckle. The men step aside, though they continue to watch us warily. I wave at them as Darak continues toward the edge of the town.
The cool breeze whips my hair around as we leave the marketplace behind. Darak's steady gait makes my stomach bounce against his shoulder with each step.
"So," he drawls, "your husband again?"
"Oh, like you have room to talk." I poke his back. "What was it you told Vex and Karn on the ship? 'This is my dear sister?' At least I had a good reason."
"That was different." His grip shifts on my legs.
"How exactly?"
A grunt is his only response. The muscles in his shoulders tense beneath my hands.
"Which way now?" he asks.
"Put me down and I'll tell you."
"Your feet?—"
"Are fine. The ground isn't even that rough here." I wiggle against his hold. "Come on, Darak. It's not like I'm going to run away."
He finally relents, setting me down with surprising gentleness. My head spins from being upright again, and I stumble. His hands catch my waist, steadying me against his chest. When I look up, his crimson eyes are traveling down my body with an intensity that makes my skin tingle.
"Take your robes off," he says.
My heart skips. "What? No, it's cold here."
Why in the worlds would he say that?
The clasps of my robe click open before I can process what's happening. My breath catches as the cool air hits my skin, but Darak's hands are warm as they slide beneath the fabric. His fingers spread across my waist, and my mind goes blank.
"I wasn't sure if you heard me that night at the inn," he says, his thumbs tracing circles on my skin. My pulse quickens at his touch. "But I want to tell you now. You're... You're beautiful, Lirien."
The words pierce through me like an arrow. My throat tightens as memories flood back – Serra's curves, the way he looked at her, his teasing about my unremarkable body. I try to step back, but his grip holds me steady.
"Don't." The word comes out hoarse. "I don't need your pity."
His crimson eyes flash with something dangerous. "Pity?"
"I know what Dark Elves think of humans." My hands press against his chest, though I can't bring myself to push him away. "We're toys. Pets. I won't be your entertainment until something better comes along."
"Is that what you think?" His fingers flex against my skin. "That I carried you through town, fought beside you, strengthened our bond... for entertainment?"
Heat creeps up my neck. "Then why?"
Instead of answering, he pulls me closer, one hand sliding up my back. My breath hitches as his forehead touches mine, his dark hair falling forward to brush my cheeks.
"Because you're infuriating," he whispers. "And fascinating. And yes, beautiful."
My heart slams against my ribcage as Darak towers over me, his ash-gray skin glowing in the sunlight. His dark hair falls loose around his face, and my fingers itch to brush it back. The leather of his armor creaks as he shifts closer, and the familiar scent of steel and leather fills my lungs. His crimson eyes pierce through me, making my stomach flip.
"Liar," I whisper, the word barely making it past my dry throat.
His large hand catches my jaw, fingers spanning from ear to chin as he bends down. My breath catches at his proximity, at the way his muscles flex beneath his armor. His thumb traces my scar – the one he gave me that first night.
"You are fucking beautiful. Sexy as fuck." His voice drops to a growl that makes heat pool in my belly. "And I would rather choke on the words I told you at that cottage than listen to you doubt yourself for another minute."
My knees wobble, and I grab his forearm to steady myself. His skin burns hot beneath my touch.
"Now," he says, his thumb sliding along my bottom lip. "Tell me which direction we need to go."
Guilt sparks in my chest, sharp and cold compared to the warmth of his touch. I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. He wants me to tell him where to go so that we can remove this bond that has kept us together.
I clear my throat, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the heat of his touch. "We'll follow the coastline east until we're past the mountain range." My fingers trace an invisible path in the air. "Then we go up."
"Good." Darak's hand leaves my face, and I immediately miss its warmth. His fingers thread through my hair, tucking loose strands behind my ear with surprising gentleness. The motion draws my gaze up to his face, and my breath catches at the intensity in his crimson eyes as they fix on my lips.
My heart hammers against my ribs as he wraps my robes back around me, his knuckles brushing against my collarbone as he fastens the clasps. Each touch sends sparks through my skin.
"Already tired of looking at me?" The words tumble out before I can stop them, aiming for playful but landing somewhere closer to vulnerable.
His hands pause at the final clasp. "If I had my way," he says, his voice dropping to that deep rumble that makes my knees weak, "you'd be wearing considerably less." His fingers brush my neck as he secures the last clasp. "But you were right about one thing – it is fucking cold here."
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, breaking the tension. The sea breeze whips around us, as if emphasizing his point, and I pull my robes tighter around myself.
I adjust the strap of my satchel as Darak hoists our belongings onto his broad shoulders. The weight doesn't seem to bother him at all – another reminder of his inhuman strength. His crimson eyes catch mine, and that familiar heat spreads through my chest.
"Lead the way," he says, gesturing ahead with an exaggerated bow.
I narrow my eyes, studying his too-innocent expression. "You're just wanting to look at my ass, aren't you?"
The corner of his mouth twitches up into that infuriating half-smile that makes my stomach flip. He arches one dark eyebrow, not bothering to deny it.
"Shameless," I mutter, but I can't keep the smile from my voice. The sea breeze whips my hair around my face as I turn and start walking, my boots crunching on the rocky path.
"I prefer... appreciative," he drawls from behind me.
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, light and free in a way I haven't felt since the start of all this. The warmth in my chest grows, spreading through my limbs like sunshine. Something has shifted between us, some invisible wall crumbling away with each step we take.
I hear him chuckle behind me, the sound deep and rich. My heart swells, and for the first time since I cast that spell, I feel we're truly ready for what comes next.