Chapter 1 #3
Something flickered in his eyes then—brief, dark, unguarded. Not malice. Not exactly sadness either. It was emptiness, deep and old. The same hollow she’d seen once before, in another dark elf’s eyes, right before she lost him.
Lisa exhaled, more to steady herself than anything. “You want honey in your tea?”
He blinked, like she’d broken a spell. “What?”
“Honey,” she said again, voice calm. “It’s good for bitterness.”
Rezer’s mouth twitched. “Then yes. I think I’ll need some.”
Lisa slid the steaming cup toward him, careful not to meet his gaze for too long. “Try not to burn your tongue. I don’t want that on my conscience.”
Rezer’s fingers brushed the cup, the movement slow and deliberate. “You think I’m that fragile?”
“I think many people underestimate the heat of boiling water,” she said, wiping an invisible spot on the counter.
He took a sip anyway, eyes still on her. If it burned, he didn’t show it. He just hummed quietly, the sound low in his throat. “Not bad.”
Lisa leaned a hip against the counter, crossing her arms loosely. “High praise. I’ll add that to my marketing slogans: Not bad, according to possibly dangerous dark elves.”
Rezer’s mouth curved, the smallest hint of amusement flickering across his features. “You think I’m dangerous?”
Lisa shrugged one shoulder. “Dark. Elf. You all sort of give off that vibe.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “And yet, you didn’t throw me out.”
“I was raised to be polite.” She took a deep breath, exhaling through her nose. “I was mated to a dark elf, as you so kindly pointed out, so it’s not something new to me. And besides, you don’t seem . . reckless. Just persistent.”
“Persistent,” he repeated, tasting the word. “I’ve been called worse.”
Lisa smiled despite herself and reached for another jar, pretending to reorganize it. “I imagine so.”
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable exactly—it just wasn’t empty.
There was a pull to it, something weighty beneath the surface.
She felt it hum faintly in the air, like a vibration only she could sense.
He seemed to feel it, too, because his expression softened, curiosity edging toward something more personal.
“Do you ever miss it?” he asked.
Lisa glanced back at him, cautious. “Miss what?” She knew what he meant, and was thankful he hadn’t said “miss him.”
“The other realm. The life you left.”
Still, the question hit harder than she expected. Her fingers tightened briefly around the jar before she set it down. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “I had two reasons to leave. And missing doesn’t mean I want to go back. There’s too many memories.”
Rezer nodded slowly, his thumb tracing the rim of his cup. “I understand that. Memories aren’t always a good thing.”
She doubted he did, but the quiet in his voice made her wonder what, exactly, he missed, or didn’t want to go back to.
A familiar shimmer rippled near the corner of the room. Lisa didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Lisa was going to have to get rid of that damn mirror if she wanted to make it a little harder for her nosy friend to get inside.
“Don’t you dare,” Lisa warned.
Syndra materialized anyway, appearing beside the shelf of crystals like she’d been part of the décor all along. Her golden hair caught the morning light, and she folded her hands with mock innocence. “Dare what?”
Lisa sighed. “Interrupt.”
“Me? I would never.” Syndra’s smile widened as her gaze slid to Rezer. “Oh, hello there. It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of your kind in here.”
Rezer turned, setting his cup down with careful precision. “Queen Syndra.” He inclined his head slightly, respectful but measured.
“Former queen,” she corrected lightly. “And you are . . .?” As if she didn’t know, Lisa shook her head.
“Rezer.” The dark elf played along.
Her smile sharpened, all warmth and knowing. “Ah. The other persistent suiter. The one with the notes.”
Lisa groaned softly, rubbing her forehead. “Syndra.”
“What?” Syndra’s eyes sparkled. “I was just confirming a theory.”
Rezer’s gaze flicked to Lisa, one brow lifting. “Other?” His tone darkened along with the air around him. Light seemed to recoil from him as his stare hardened.
“Do you honestly think this young, vibrant, single, beauty doesn’t have the attention of other men?” Syndra asked, flitting around the room like a damn fairy. Lisa was going to strangle her later.
Rezer’s gaze turned to Lisa. He looked at her for several heartbeats, and then his features softened. “I think I just tried to avoid thinking of the possibility.” He seemed to be reluctant to admit that, then added, with a cheeky grin, “You’ve been discussing me?”
Lisa grabbed a dish towel, pretending to busy herself with wiping off shelves. “Only when I’m being tormented.”
Syndra laughed, a clear, musical sound. “She’s being modest. You’ve intrigued her.”
Lisa froze. “I—”
“She has questions,” Syndra continued, ignoring the warning in Lisa’s voice. “And for once, I don’t have all the answers.”
Rezer leaned against the counter, his posture relaxed but his eyes keen. “Then maybe she should ask me.”
Syndra arched a brow. “Oh, I like you.” She turned to Lisa. “Perhaps I was wrong, maybe you don’t need peace, you need something to stir up the little cocoon you’ve put yourself in. Afterall, you didn’t pick safe and boring the first time around.”
Lisa pointed at her. “Out. Now. And don’t come back until you’ve learned to stop sticking your nose in my business.”
Syndra chuckled, already fading, her outline shimmering like sunlight through glass, no doubt headed for the mirror in the back even though she was invisible.
“You know me better than that. I may not be a queen anymore, but I still don’t take orders.
And don’t think I’m not coming back for details later. ”
Lisa turned back just as the door to the back room closed. She could feel Rezer watching her again, no doubt that same unreadable look in his eyes. She could feel it. After a silent prayer for patience, she turned back around.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Thursday,” Lisa said dryly. “That was Thursday.”
He smiled, slow, genuine, and a little dangerous. “I think I like Thursdays.”