Chapter 3
Istartled awake when the lock clicked, breaking the silence of my prison. My heart leapt into my throat, and I sat frozen, waiting for someone to speak. Was Dulanzo making good on his promise to come for me? But further along couldn’t possibly mean the few hours or so since I’d fallen asleep. I sat up and turned my face toward the creak of hinges. There came the rustling of fabric and the dull thump of a closing door.
“Who’s there?” I asked the darkness and bounced out of bed. I brought my hands up in defense and waited for whoever it was to make their move. The hair stood up on the back of my neck while I waited for my visitor to reveal themselves and their intentions. Eye lights settled on my face and tipped as if the elf watching me had tilted their head.
“Oh, huh,” came a somewhat familiar male voice. A pale white light popped into existence, causing me to squint momentarily. “You can’t make a light?” It was pervy-elf. Wonderful.
He didn’t look quite so disheveled now, topknot smooth and tidy, and he was dressed in black pants, cotton blouse, and dark red dueling vest. The light sat in the palm of one hand while he held a tray of food in the other, which was good, but it didn’t stop me from glaring at him. “I can. It just doesn’t last long.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he shook his head and lifted the light to the ceiling where it hovered above our heads. “Didn’t have anyone to teach you, hm?” His voice was softer, more conversational than before, no teasing edge or sarcastic body language. “It’s not uncommon with halfies raised without their elven parent.”
I snorted indelicately. “Well, it’s not as if I had any say in it.”
He grimaced and put the tray of food down on the little table beside the bed. “Damn,” he said, stepping back. “That’s a shame. You’ll really struggle to grow that child if you haven’t developed enough power to do even that.”
I crossed my arms with a heavy sigh. “How so?” I asked drily.
He stared down his nose at me for a moment, assessing. “You really have no idea?”
“No more than I did a moment ago,” I grumbled. “Care to elaborate?” My words may have sounded hostile, but his suggestion that I wouldn’t carry the child well was concerning.
“Shit,” he hissed and tipped his head to stare up at the ceiling, as if asking the stone above why me? “You have rotten mates,” he grumbled. “They should have taught you.”
“Well, considering we only just discovered I was with child when you stole me away, they didn’t really get the opportunity to say much of anything on the matter,” I countered, though it took an extra moment before I grasped the significance of the word mates.
“You weren’t pregnant before?” he asked, eyeing me warily.
“I lost it very early on,” I answered, chin held high. “We didn’t get a chance to discuss much of anything that time either.”
“Hmm.” Pervy-elf moved closer, cocked his head and sniffed the air. “Not the same father, this time,” he said thoughtfully. I scowled back and opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but the meaning of his words gradually filtered through my temper. Not the same father. “Not that I care,” he continued, “but it is highly unusual. That bond to … which is the first?”
“Lhoris,” I whispered.
“The bond to Lhoris would make it very difficult for you to be with anyone else,” he said and paced a few heart beats before going to lean on a wall, well away from me.
“It was a complicated situation,” I admitted absently, resting a hand on my belly. “You’re sure?”
“I’ve been around a long time, child,” he shook his head and tapped his nose. “I can’t tell who the father is, but I can tell you’re entangled with two dark elves.” He paused and frowned a little, as though he’d just had a troubling thought. “We’ll be lucky if they don’t kill each other on the way here.” He shook his head, brows knotted, and lips pressed into a hard line.
Surely I couldn’t take anything he said at face value, but I didn’t get the sense he was there to bullshit me. The culture here was supposed to be centered around power struggles often settled by cloak and dagger style tactics. Was he trying to figure out what was going on ahead of Dulanzo? Was this the enemy of my enemy?
My head ached already at just the prospect of trying to figure out the intentions of someone steeped in that level of paranoia.
Ugh, give me a straightforward fight any day.
“They wouldn’t hurt one another.” I genuinely couldn’t see anything coming between two people that had sacrificed so much for each other. “They’re far too dedicated,” I argued.
Pervy-elf scoffed at me. “You don’t know anything,” he said, words dripping with disdain.
“Well, educate me.” I gestured between the two of us. “Maybe I can help you figure out … whatever-it-is if I know what you’re after.”
He pushed off the wall, as if my words had provoked him, and brought me fully to his attention. I didn’t blink when his intense citrine eyes burned into mine, recognizing this sudden focus of his as calculated assessment. What I was proposing didn’t appear to make sense to him. “Why would you do that? What could you want from me in return?” He shook his head and his posture eased. “If you think I can get you out of here, you’re going to be very disappointed.”
I threw my hands up in exasperation. “What can you do for me?” I gestured to the spartan space around us. “It’s not like I’m spoiled for choice.”
He rolled his eyes. “I already came here to do what I can for you, child.”
“What’s that?”
“Help you survive the coming few days,” he said with the hint of a sneer. “I end up with more work when Dulanzo is fixated on one of his little pets.”
“I’m no one’s pet,” I spat.
“You don’t understand, girl,” he stepped closer, looming over me. “I’ve observed you since coming here … tested your reactions.”
That explained his obnoxious behavior leading up to this door. I gave him a caustic glare.
“I promise you, if you’re as prickly as you seem, you’ll only be giving Dulanzo what he wants from you,” he said, the words slow and intentional, a warning I wasn’t meant to disregard. “You’ll never leave this room or see the light of day again if you defy him. If you show him something he can break, he will dedicate all his energy to that end and enjoy his handiwork until you’re so empty inside that you simply cease.” He emphasized the final word with a flick of his hand. Then he waited in silence, giving me time to think, eyes occasionally flicking to my mouth, as though in anticipation of my answer.
So I pursed my lips and thought. What he’d said was in line with what I’d observed during my encounter with the warlord, so I didn’t doubt he understood the commander’s intentions. Though what he was suggesting made me nauseous, I nodded for him to continue.
“But he will lose interest if you instead comply. Then maybe …” He lifted a finger and one brow to emphasize the maybe. “… I can make your life more comfortable.” He gestured to the room. “There are nicer places than this in the compound. I can’t promise you won’t be required to have more children, though you could have more freedom.”
Freedom to find an escape, perhaps?
“Your children?” I asked, knowing full well it didn’t matter. None of it was acceptable in the long run. I’d rather kill myself than live in either of those scenarios or allow a child of mine to end up in this tomb. No, I thought it might be prudent to probe for his motivation—what form his scheme could be taking. Adapting to this new environment was my priority for the time being, and any insight gleaned from him could be vital. It was unlikely with as paranoid as he probably was, but I had to try.
“Oh, no.” He shook his head with a grimace. “You’d be allowed to choose from volunteers.” He frowned and shuddered.
And for a moment, he reminded me of Lobikno. Not in the obvious sense, but for a fraction of a second, he appeared worn, weary, heavy-hearted. Perhaps this elf was like Lhoris and Lobikno and not naturally suited for their culture. Or maybe it was simply the result of having lived in it for too long. Either way, there was something about this elf I couldn’t quite put my finger on …
But I scoffed at his offer. “Who are you that you could make that kind of offer, anyway?”
“Zelfek,” he stepped away again and sat on the bed. “I am Subcommander Zelfek. Dulanzo’s second in command.”
This was the asshole that decided to grab me in the garden.
“I’m Ozanna Black,” I replied with a barely polite nod. “Well, start talking Zelfek, you sound like a very busy elf.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stayed right where I was.
“Come here,” he gestured for me to stand in front of him. “I need to attend to your child while we talk or Dulanzo will become suspicious of my absence.”
I looked down at my belly and scrunched up my nose before giving him an incredulous look.
He sighed heavily. “Unborn elves need someone other than the mother to invest power in them as they grow. You have less than you ought to, so we need to start this sooner rather than later.”
I gaped at him. It just sounded ridiculous. “What?”
“I only need to put my hands here,” Zelfek rested his hands on his hips, “or here.” He moved them to his belly and back. “Then I’ll pass a current of magic through. The babe takes what it needs to exist.”
“You’re serious?” I took a step further away.
“May the gods strike me down …” he swore with a slow nod. “It’s the whole reason we have mating bonds. I swear to tell you all about it if you just come stand here and put your womb between my hands,” he gestured to the floor between his feet. “I promise it doesn’t hurt. Though forcing you to stand here might,” he hedged. It was a threat, but he’d delivered it lightly. I didn’t think he wanted to force me but would if I made him. And it wouldn’t take much since there hadn’t been time for me to recover my strength.
“Fine,” I snarled under my breath and took the few steps to stand between his feet.
Zelfek peered up at me with his odd citrine eyes and put his hands on my hips. He didn’t grab or pinch or tug, just rested the weight of his arms there. A strange warmth passed between his hands and through me. The sensation felt odd, but not unpleasant. It sort of tugged, like the flow of a slow summer stream. Zelfek quirked an eyebrow as if to say I told you so.
“Explain,” I said, sounding as short tempered as I felt.
“Elves weren’t always corporeal.” he started.
I snorted. “Oh, well, why would they?” This was starting to sound like a much longer conversation than I was prepared for, tired as I was.
Zelfek flattened his lips. “I don’t have to explain anything, you know,” he said. “I could simply hold you down, do this, and leave you with no explanation.”
He could have. He could have brought help to do it too. That insight brought me to the conclusion that he was probably trying to deal with me in good faith. And it wouldn’t serve me to bite any hand offered in genuine aid. Perhaps he didn’t deserve all of my vitriol. Just some of it, for targeting me in the first damn place.
“You’re right,” I admitted with a reluctant sigh. “I’m sorry. Please continue.”
He gave me a gracious nod in acceptance of my apology before continuing. “We were once nature spirits, like the wisps you might see in the forest at night,” he explained. “But when the fae arrived on our plane, they brought a sort of ambient magic that changed those spirits to something more. Something sentient.”
I gaped at him. “The fae haven’t always been here?”
He gave me a slightly sour expression that told me he wasn’t surprised to find another gap in my knowledge. “No, they’re invasive, but that isn’t pertinent,” he shook his head. “Now, these sentient little nature spirits appealed to the greater spirit, or god … I think some humans call it Genarae?”
“Genarae, the Mother,” I acknowledged.
Zelfek continued. “They appealed to Genarae for bodies like the humans, so they could interact with the physical world. This god stole the ambient fae energy to quickly build human-like bodies from water and earth. Then it joined the sentient spirits to their new bodies, simultaneously breathing a spark of life into them.” He paused, perhaps looking for understanding in my expression. I had little idea where this was going, so I doubted he saw anything other than mild confusion. “Genarae typically worked the other way around,” he explained. “Creating life and building the life forms around it over thousands of years. So what she did to make us was technically cheating.”
“Uh huh,” I nodded, starting to feel a little fuzzy. The trickle of magic washing through me was warm and oddly soothing. “How does this lead us to bonds?”
“Well,” he said with a tilt of his head, “everything was new to the first elves, eating, drinking, sleeping, procreation, and so on. Their human neighbors taught them how to … exist. But there was one monumental difference,” Zelfek paused for emphasis, raising his eyebrows, and meeting my eyes. “Those elves couldn’t carry a pregnancy to completion and the humans couldn’t offer a solution. Instead, they taught the elves how to mourn. And mourn they did, believing they’d be the first and last of their kind,” he said somberly, as if that pain was so great that, despite thousands of years and many generations, the elves could still feel it. “Eventually, they developed a better understanding of our magic and realized that their offspring needed an additional investment of power. We’ve never figured out exactly why, though the working theory is that the spark of life doesn’t transfer like it does for naturally evolved lifeforms. It wasn’t until the next generation started to procreate that they discovered the bond between parents. The male is compelled to come attend to the child, like so,” he nodded to the space between us, “and see to the safety of the pregnant elfess. After the birth, they’re bound as a family for, oh, at least a decade—until the child is old enough to break the bond itself. We invest so much more into our offspring that they are part of us, and us a part of them. They have access to our experience, and we have access to their … well, distress.”
Mother above, no wonder Lobikno was so desperate to get his children.If they had such miserable childhoods here, they would be in near constant distress.
“So why would Lhoris and Lobikno kill each other?”
Zelfek’s face twisted into a frown, his voice bitter when he spoke. “Irnon made some changes to the compulsion when the dark elves became her creatures.” He met my eyes again. “Males are not her preferred children, and to prevent us from resisting the compulsion, like our woodland cousins can, she twisted the bond. We are driven to submission by pain if we ignore the duties to our mate and offspring. It can even drive us mad if our mate is in danger, reacting violently to almost anything until she is safe. A moment of jealousy is all it would take.”
My eyelids were very heavy, and my mind felt dull. The soothing tug of Zelfek’s magic current had warmed me from head to toe at this point and all I wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. I sighed and brought my attention back to the subcommander, who was patiently waiting for my slow response, watching my mouth, again.
I frowned a little at his attention. If he hadn’t looked so pleasantly, patiently disinterested, I’d have worried he was thinking about stealing a kiss. Then again, there are many people that needed to read lips to understand the spoken word. It would make more sense, but it didn’t sit right either. Or maybe I was just tired and paranoid after Dulanzo’s threats.
“Lobikno and I haven’t really crossed paths since we were … intimate,” I explained sheepishly. “I’ve never felt any inclination toward him. Just Lhoris.”
Zelfek seemed lost in thought for a few heartbeats, his eyes not quite focused on my face. “Then you haven’t established a bond with him yet.” His brow furrowed, but one corner of his mouth turned up just a fraction. “Yes, we may see at least one of them come for you.”
“Why do you want them here? Do you want to kill them yourself?”
Zelfek let go of my hips and gave me a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “I don’t wish my cousins any harm.” He paused and sighed. “At least not those cousins. Step back now, I need to leave.”
I nodded and gave him space. “How often will you do this?”
“Someone will come once a day to share their current for now,” he answered almost absently while he rose to his feet. “More often as the baby grows.”
I swallowed and a tiny jolt of fear brought me out of the comfortable, warm fog. “It won’t be you?” Not that I trusted him. He was guarded, yes, but my gut told me he didn’t mean me any harm. It was rarely ever wrong.
“No, we will rotate people through to act as surrogate father,” he explained before turning his back to me. “I only wanted the chance to talk to you first. Good thing too, ignorant as you are.” He opened the door and stood on the threshold for a moment before turning to look over his shoulder. “And please, consider my advice about how to handle the commander’s attentions. I know he said he would wait, but he hasn’t had a new toy in some time. He will come for you in the next day or so, I’m sure.”
I didn’t say anything. It was quite a bit to process.
Then, Zelfek reached up and called his light back. It drifted from the ceiling and started to fade.
I lurched and took a step towards him. “Please leave the light,” I gasped.
He glanced at me, his expression unreadable, and shook his head as the light continued to dim. “No, you have light,” he said, and the room went dark. “Use it.”