19. Darak
19
DARAK
M y feet crunch against loose rocks as I follow Lirien up the mountain path. Her hips sway with each step, and the morning sunlight catches in her silver hair. The sight reminds me of how that hair felt wrapped around my fingers last night.
"The air's so clear up here." Lirien pauses at a bend in the trail, stretching her arms above her head. Her robes pull tight across her chest.
"Mhm." I'm not looking at the view she's pointing out. Not even close.
She turns, catching me staring. A blush spreads across her cheeks, but her smile is wicked. "What was that?"
"Just admiring the local wildlife."
"Oh? And what sort of creature are you tracking?"
"A rare silver-haired demon. Very dangerous. Known to ensnare unsuspecting warriors."
"Unsuspecting?" She laughs, the sound echoing off the rocks. "I'd say you're quite suspecting now."
I close the distance between us, running my thumb along the scar on her cheek. "Who would've thought that mark I gave you would become one of my favorite features?"
"You're getting soft, Dark Elf." She leans into my touch.
"Perhaps. For you." The words slip out before I can stop them. When did I start speaking without thinking? When did her presence become more intoxicating than wine?
She continues up the path, throwing teasing glances over her shoulder. Each look sets my blood on fire.
"Beautiful view out here, isn't it?" She gestures at the jagged peaks ahead. "Hard to imaging growing up anywhere else."
"Best I've seen." My eyes haven't left the curve of her hips.
Her laughter rings out again, pure joy in the sound. I can't remember the last time I felt this light, this free. When did everything change? When did this binding spell become something I never want broken?
The realization hits me, a knife slicing into my chest as though I'm nothing more than a cloud but burning like hell. Breaking the bond. That's why we're here, climbing this cursed mountain. My steps falter on the rocky path as memories of last night flood my mind - her skin against mine, her silver hair spread across my chest, the way she said my name.
Lirien walks beside a cluster of pale mountain flowers, their petals swaying toward her fingertips as if drawn by her magic. The morning light catches her hair, making it shimmer like starlight. The sight of her steals my breath more effectively than the thin mountain air.
Return to war? To endless battles and meaningless victories? The thought turns my stomach. When did killing lose its appeal? When did her smile become more valuable than glory?
"You alright back there?" Lirien's voice breaks through my spiraling thoughts. She turns, those green eyes finding mine with genuine concern. "You've gone quiet."
I force my lips into what I hope passes for a smile. She's suffered enough because of me - my initial rage, my stubborn pride, my slow acceptance of feelings I never thought possible. I won't burden her with these doubts.
"All good," I lie, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "Just catching my breath."
The bond hums, warm and alive. How could I ever want to break something that feels this right?
"I'm that beautiful, am I?" she teases, continuing on.
The mountain path stretches endlessly before us, each step taking us closer to breaking this bond. My chest tightens at the thought. What kind of spell has she woven over me beyond the binding? The proud warrior in me rebels against these feelings, but they persist, growing stronger with each passing moment.
"We're out of food," Lirien announces, patting the empty satchel at her hip. "Serra's provisions are gone."
Thank the gods for the distraction. "I'll handle dinner." The words come out rougher than intended, my warrior's pride surging forward.
"Oh?" Lirien stops walking, turning to face me with that knowing smile that makes my blood rush south. "And how exactly do you plan to do that? You don't know these mountains or what game might be here. Or if there is any game at all, for that matter."
I close the distance between us in two long strides, my hands finding her waist. The fabric of her robes is thin enough that I can feel her warmth beneath. She tilts her head back to maintain eye contact, that challenging smirk still playing on her lips.
"I could always..." I lean down, my teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear. Her breath catches. "...devour you instead."
"Darak!" She squirms in my grasp, but I feel her pulse quicken beneath my lips.
"You taste better than anything Serra packed anyway." I nip at her neck again, harder this time, drawing a gasp from her throat.
"What's gotten into you?" Lirien's breath catches as I trail kisses down her neck, savoring the sweet taste of her skin.
"I'm looking at her," I growl against her throat, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips. My hands slide down her sides, pulling her closer.
She reaches up, her delicate fingers tracing the hard angles of my face. The gentle touch sends electricity through my body. Her fingers are impossibly soft against my battle-weathered skin, and I lean into her caress like a starved man.
Our eyes meet, and for a moment, the mountain air crackles with something deeper than desire. Her green eyes shine with an emotion I'm afraid to name.
"We should probably find actual food," she whispers, though she doesn't pull away.
"Already handled." I smirk, keeping one arm around her waist. "Been tracking a herd of mountain goats since dawn. Their tracks lead northwest, toward that ridge."
Her eyes widen. "You've been tracking this whole time?"
"Some of us have skills beyond magic, little demon."
She pushes against my chest playfully. "I might make a man out of you yet." The way her hips sway as she continues up the path sets my blood on fire.
I watch her walk ahead, silver hair catching the sunlight, and something settles in my chest. This - her teasing smile, the mountain air, the freedom to simply exist - this is what life should be. Not endless battles or hollow victories, but moments like these.
My grin turns predatory as I stride after her. Perhaps I'll save the goat hunting for later. I have a different appetite to satisfy first.
"Darak, if you don't stop you'll make me lose my concentration," Lirien scolds, a smile playing at her lips.
It didn't take much persuasion to convince Lirien to stop and make camp for the night. She's proving to be far less stubborn now that she has that sexy, feline look in her eye when she gazes at me. And for all the protesting she's doing now, she seems rather inclined to rub her ass back on me.
My body is pressed right up against her back, hands on her waist as she makes another attempt at building a stone oven with the slabs of fallen rock she collected when we decided this on this spot. Comparatively, we're still at the bottom of the mountains—and she doesn't blame me for the lack of today's progress.
"I'm only trying to help." My hands slide lower on her hips as she attempts to position another stone. "See? Supporting you."
"Supporting me right into dropping this rock on my foot." Lirien's laugh vibrates through her back against my chest. "And your 'help' is making these stones more crooked than a merchant's ledger."
I nip at her neck, savoring the way she shivers. "My hands are quite steady."
"Mhm. Steady at everything except helping me build this oven." She bumps her shoulder back into my chest. "If you want to be useful, go get that goat you're so proud of catching. Before it spoils."
"You seemed impressed enough when I brought it back." I graze my teeth along her ear, drinking in her soft gasp.
"Yes, yes, you're very impressive with your hunting skills." She tries to sound dismissive, but I catch the breathiness in her voice. "Now go prove how impressive you are at preparing it."
"As my lady commands." I release her with a final nibble to her earlobe, chuckling at her frustrated groan as another stone topples over.
Moving to where I'd left the goat, I draw my knife and begin the familiar motions of skinning and cleaning. The blade slides smoothly through flesh and sinew - a task I've done countless times in my years of warfare. But this feels different. There's pride in providing this way, in seeing Lirien's approving glance when she thinks I'm not looking.
She bends to adjust another stone, silver hair falling forward to frame her face. The fading sunlight catches in those strands, making them shimmer like starlight. My hands still on the goat as I watch her work, graceful even in such a mundane task. Gods, she's beautiful. When did that thought stop surprising me?
The aroma of spices fills the mountain air as Lirien tends to her makeshift stone oven. Her silver hair catches the dying sunlight, and I find myself mesmerized by the way her fingers dance over the herbs she's grinding. The bond thrums between us, warm and alive.
I approach with the cuts of meat, my hands still sticky with blood. She doesn't flinch at the sight - she never does anymore. When did that change? When did she start looking at me with trust instead of fear?
"Here." I lay the meat on the heated stone. "Fresh mountain goat. Better than your stale bread, I'd say."
She shoots me a look that could freeze hell. "Be happy I packed enough to feed your bottomless pit of a stomach."
The flames beneath the stone leap higher at her command, and the meat begins to sizzle. The scent of her spices mingles with the cooking meat, making my mouth water. But it's not just hunger that tightens my chest as I watch her work.
I wipe my hands clean on a cloth, struggling to find the right words. The bond carries something deeper than magic - something that feels like belonging.
"Lirien."
"Hm?" She doesn't look up from where she's turning the meat, her movements precise and graceful.
My heart pounds against my ribs. When did I become such a coward? I've faced armies without hesitation, but these simple words terrify me. "Let's not break the bond."