17. Darak
17
DARAK
I watch Lirien's hips sway as she walks ahead of me, my mind drifting to earlier when I'd asked her to remove her robes again. The way her skin had flushed, how her breath caught—I shake my head, trying to focus on our surroundings instead.
"Tell me about your life before," she says, glancing back at me. "How did you become a warrior?"
"Started young. Most of us do." The memories surface like old wounds. "My father handed me my first sword when I was seven. By twelve, I'd killed my first man."
"That's horrible."
"That's survival. Dark Elf children either learn to fight or they die." I step over a fallen log. "I rose through the ranks quickly. Natural talent, they said. Truth is, I just didn't want to die."
"But you stayed a warrior."
"Became captain of my own men by fifty. Led raids, protected our borders, trained recruits." My fingers brush the hilt of my sword. "Some found glory in it. I found purpose. Every soldier under my command lived or died by my decisions."
"Did you lose many?"
"Too many." The faces flash through my mind—young recruits, seasoned veterans. "War doesn't discriminate. But I made sure every death meant something. We protected our people, our lands."
Lirien's quiet for a moment. "It sounds lonely."
"It was." The words slip out before I can stop them. "Warriors don't form attachments. Makes us weak, vulnerable. So we fight, we drink, we fuck, and we prepare for the next battle."
She stumbles slightly, and I catch her elbow. The contact sends warmth through my arm.
Lirien tucks a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "You were so angry when I pulled you from that battlefield. But it doesn't sound like you enjoyed that life much."
I roll my shoulders in a shrug, adjusting my sword belt. "It was my life. What else was there to want?"
She shakes her head, her steps slowing. The forest path narrows, forcing me to walk closer behind her. After a moment, she glances back at me. "What about... were there women? In your life, I mean."
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "Is that jealousy I detect in your voice, little demon?"
"No!" Her cheeks flush pink. "I'm just curious."
"Hmm." I quicken my pace to walk beside her. "There were women. Plenty of them. But nothing lasting—just nights of pleasure between battles." I catch her gaze. "Warriors don't have the luxury of love affairs. Though I must say, your interest in my romantic history is... intriguing."
"I'm not interested." She stumbles over a root, and I steady her with a hand on her elbow. "I just wanted to know what kind of man you were."
"And now you know. Though I notice you haven't shared any tales of your own lovers."
She yanks her arm away. "Because that's none of your business."
I can't help but smirk at her flustered state, enjoying how she bristles at my teasing. Time to change tactics.
"Tell me about your family. You mentioned something about covens before. That you lived with your mother?" I pause, continuing when she doesn't. "Where is she now?"
Lirien's steps falter, her shoulders tensing. "Yes, I lived with my mother and her coven."
"And?"
"And she was murdered when I was eight." Her voice drops to barely a whisper. "Dark Elves raided our village. She hid me in the cellar."
My chest tightens. I've led such raids before. "The coven took you in after?"
"Yes." She kicks a stone from the path. "Though sometimes I wonder if death would have been kinder."
"They mistreated you?"
"They were afraid of me." Lirien wraps her arms around herself. "My magic... it manifested differently than theirs. More powerful. Less controlled. The Matriarch said I was dangerous."
I reach for her shoulder but stop myself. "Children often struggle with control."
"This was different. The others whispered that I was cursed. Tainted." Her bitter laugh echoes through the trees. "They kept me isolated, refused to teach me properly. Said it was safer that way."
"So you left."
"Had to. I thought..." She shakes her head. "I thought maybe I could build something better. My own coven, where no one would be afraid."
The loneliness in her voice mirrors something in my own soul. "And have you?"
Her green eyes meet mine. "I'm working on it."
"Your coven will be different," I say softly, watching her profile in the fading light. "It'll be everything you deserved—warmth, acceptance, love. A real family."
Lirien's eyes shine with unshed tears. She blinks rapidly, turning away.
I clear my throat, scanning our surroundings. The mountain path curves around a sheltered outcropping, perfect for the night. "We should make camp here. The wind's picking up."
"Good idea." Her voice is thick with emotion. "My feet are killing me anyway."
I shrug off my pack, pulling out the linens I'd lifted from our cabin. The human's snoring had covered the sound of me stuffing them into my bag before we departed.
"You stole these?" Lirien's eyebrows shoot up as I spread them on the ground.
"Borrowed." I smooth out the wrinkles. "Besides, they owed us for those roommates."
She laughs, the sound warming my chest. With a casual wave of her hand, she ignites a pile of kindling I hadn't even noticed her gathering. The flames cast dancing shadows across her face.
I dig through my pack for Serra's provisions—the last of our supplies. Breaking the bread in half, I offer Lirien the larger portion.
"Split it evenly," she protests.
"I did." I take a bite of my piece to prove the point.
She narrows her eyes. "Liar."
"Just eat, little demon." I push the bread closer. "You need your strength more than I do."
"We both know that's not true." But she takes it anyway, tearing off a small piece. When she tries to hand me the rest, I shake my head.
"Finish it."
"Darak—"
"Please." I meet her gaze. "For me."
She sighs but takes another bite, and I ignore how my heart leaps at the small victory.
The mountain air bites through my armor as darkness creeps in. Lirien shivers, her thin robes offering little protection against the cold.
"Come here," I say, patting the space beside me on our makeshift bed of stolen linens.
She hesitates, teeth chattering. "I'm fine."
"You're freezing." I arch an eyebrow. "Unless you'd prefer to freeze to death on this mountain?"
"Always so dramatic." But she moves closer, settling down beside me.
I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. Her body tenses for a moment before relaxing into my warmth. The curve of her ass presses against me, and my breath catches. Heat pools in my core, desire coursing through my veins.
Without thinking, I brush her silver hair aside. My fingers trace the edge of her robe, sliding it down her shoulder. Her skin is like silk beneath my lips as I press a kiss to the exposed flesh.
A shiver runs through her body. "Don't," she whispers, reaching back to tug the fabric up. "It's cold."
"Let me keep you warm, then." My voice comes out rougher than intended, betraying my need.
The mountain air does nothing to cool the heat building inside me. Lirien's body fits perfectly against mine, her curves pressing into all the right places. Every point of contact is more intense thanks to our bond.
My hand slides down her side, memorizing the dips and curves beneath her robes. She has no idea how she affects me. Ever since that day I trained her to defend herself… I want to touch every inch of her, to worship her over and over again until she begs me to stop.
Her breath hitches. "Darak, I—I can feel what you're thinking through the bond."
"Good." I tighten my grip on her hip, pulling her flush against me. Images flood my mind—her pale skin in the moonlight, those soft lips parted in pleasure, silver hair spilling across my chest. "Feel it again. I'm not shy."
I grind against her, letting her feel exactly what she does to me. A small gasp escapes her lips as I roll my hips. The bond thrums with shared desire, amplifying every sensation.
"Your body is perfect," I growl into her ear. "Let me show you just how perfect."
She trembles against me. "The bond—it's making you feel this way."
"No." I slide my hand up her side. "The bond just lets me show you how I really feel."
And I'm not going to let the bond to all the work.
The cold mountain air whispers over us, but the heat between Lirien and me could ignite the very stars above. I watch her, the way her lips part slightly, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. The bond thrums with a hunger I've kept leashed for too long.
"Darak," she whispers, her voice laced with a need that matches my own.
I can't resist her any longer. My hand finds its way into her robes, my fingers tracing the seam of her pants. She gasps as I rub her over the fabric, the heat of her arousal seeping through. Her body arches into my touch, a silent plea for more.
"You're so wet for me," I murmur against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. She shudders, her hands clutching at the linens.
I slip my hand beneath the waistband of her pants, my fingers sliding through her slickness. She's a marvel, a wonder I never knew I was searching for. When I push a finger inside her, she moans, the sound echoing off the mountainside.
Her walls clench around my finger as I work her, each stroke intentional, each caress designed to unravel her further. I add another finger, stretching her, preparing her for what's to come. Her hips buck against my hand, chasing the pleasure I'm giving her.
"Look at you," I growl, "taking what you need. You're beautiful like this."
Her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, her eyes locked on mine. "Darak, I?—"
I cut her off with a kiss, deep and claiming, as I feel her begin to tighten around my fingers. She cries out into my mouth as she comes, her body shuddering with the force of her release.
As her breathing begins to slow, I withdraw my hand, bringing my fingers to my lips. I suck her essence from them, savoring her taste. Her eyes widen, a mix of shock and desire flickering in their depths.
"It's been a while," she pants out, as if she needs to defend her body's eager response to me.
"Delicious," I tell her, my voice rough with need. "And we've only just begun."
She watches me, her eyes dark with arousal, her body still trembling from the aftershocks. I can see the questions in her eyes, the uncertainty, but there's also trust—trust that I will not hurt her, that I will give her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams.
And I intend to keep that promise, over and over again, until the bond between us is strengthened by more than just magic—until it's forged by the very fires of our desire.