Chapter 3
Noth
Giant Scorched Salamanders were not the noblest of mounts. Orange with black bursts that looked similar to fireball blasts, they slimed a sticky, blood-red secretion that repelled predators and riders alike. You had to tuck your legs against the saddle if they were long like mine.
But since I almost lost my life to tooth and claw suggesting Evie should be my noble mount, I picked a wide-skirted saddle for the salamander and got on with it.
Ward handed over his research, which amounted to about a million useless scrolls and a one-page summary, and I set off into the countryside as fast as the creature's nubby legs would take us.
The upside of a salamander was its ability to eat a man whole and its propensity for it.
At least my mount was kind of deadly, if not a dragon.
If I pushed him, he would make it through Oakjour Thicket to Portsgrave Harbor in two days.
I would deal with the resulting disgusting lather once I had the Calix in hand.
I wouldn't let a little slime, nor a lack of sleep, deter me. According to Ward’s extensive network, one crusty mermaid was all that stood between me and greatness.
Rally the townsfolk to your side. Flex your power. My father’s voice rang in my head. He was full of helpful advice even after his death. Power did fix everything. It was the answer to every shrewd look, hidden jibe and lonely night.
I missed him more than was reasonable. Anyone with the balls to leave the crown behind and marry a Nightmare Walker would carry his title wherever he ended up.
I did him proud by reclaiming the Elven throne through guile and force.
At least he lived long enough to see the crown back on my head.
Long enough to make me promise I would look after Mother.
Not that any oaths stopped the mate bond from taking her once he faded away.
The salamander slammed to a halt, and I almost tipped over its broad, flat head.
Only a tight grip on the saddle saved me.
The stand of trees and brush stood impenetrable before us.
Nothing for an Elf. I didn’t even know why the salamander stopped.
Before it settled into a nap, I called to the trees, and they reached back.
Inquisitive, bright, the trees didn't get many visitors if their excitement was any indication.
I hadn't felt a forest like that since I had visited the witch in the human village.
It hummed with the radiant energy of living.
Killing that witch had been one of the hardest things I'd ever done. That she was Maggie’s mentor made it so much worse. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t wonder if I had done the right thing.
The trees also gossiped about something or someone in their crowns.
That might mean anything from a Bakh bull uprooting trees to the answer I hoped for–my Pumpkin followed me.
The thicket was so dense with its interwoven branches and competing undergrowth; I had no idea how she wiggled in there, but her tenacity was part of her charm.
I joined my magic with that of the thicket and politely requested a path through the rowan and ash trees.
All the trees and the undergrowth held the magic of protection, rebirth and healing.
That must be why they clustered together in the first place.
A path just wide enough for the salamander and me opened before us.
The dappled sunlight and smell of churned earth, decay, and leaves put me in a good enough mood to whistle.
My bodyguard, Ailred, always said I couldn’t hold a tune.
That bitch handed me over for torture, so her opinion held little weight.
Besides, it was more about expressing joy than any ability.
That joy increased tenfold as my Nightmare woke up, scenting the air for earth and poppy, humming in the back of my mind.
I didn’t want him regularly out and about, but he was helpful for locating danger and one dangerous Pumpkin in particular.
The wind whispered a trilling laugh as it followed me.
Each tree waited to see what happened. Their anticipation was infectious.
They made my path smoother, wider, but I stopped urging the salamander forward.
I had to make this somewhat fair for Maggie.
To give her due credit, I didn’t hear her fall from one of the top branches even if I did scent earth and the pink poppy before all of her weight slammed into me, flattening me to the saddle. The shard of vivianite pierced my neck, blood spilling over my chest. I gasped out of sheer surprise.
“Just let me realign your neck chakra, bitch.”
Kneeling on my back, I expected the final blow to rain down before I could do more than clutch my neck, but Maggie hesitated, unsure. She had come fatally close to ending me out of sheer luck.
I moved with her next strike, and crystal met my shoulder.
My Nightmare gobbled up the death the crystal grew in - closing the wound in an instant.
He had a tougher time healing our torn neck, but I had a packet of heal-all mint that I slapped on it.
My Elven magic amplified the balm to knit my neck together quickly.
Levering herself in front of me, she snapped her fist back to throat-punch me with brass knuckles bristling with vivianite.
It grazed my cheek, whistling past my ear.
Maggie’s knee met my side, her other foot jamming into my hip.
Hopefully, she didn’t feel the raging hard-on she inspired.
Maggie had more anger than talent at fighting.
She was here for vengeance. Again. Respect swelled every part of me, but also my heart. Maggie was most beautiful when she turned bold.
My Nightmare surged forward, elongating my hands into claws, sharpening my teeth.
The surrounding forest shrank back from the shadows and decay that spread out around us.
I hated that I harmed them, even for a moment, but the passion coming off my mate was irresistible to my monster.
Her violence called to him, kicking open the mate bond I refused to let latch.
Genuine anger spiked with it, wrapping my claws around the lovely column of her throat.
How dare she try to kill us. I barely contained my Nightmare’s frenzied lust and rage as they melted together into hot danger.
The impulse to squeeze the life out of her right then hung between us.
My monster didn’t have a terrible strategic idea for once.
Watching the light die in her eyes would surely kill this bond trying to form.
One calamity off my list. I couldn't be a mate and the King of the Elves. I wouldn’t crumble to dust like my mother had.
Common sense tightened my hand around her throat, but once I committed, my Nightmare and the bond retreated rather than actually hurt her. His anger fizzled out to leave only my amusement with the whole thing.
I clutched her to my chest instead, rubbing her face in the mess she made, containing her flailing attempts at further murder.
Her crystal-covered fist smashed down on my thigh, and I let her go at it for as long as I could contain my Nightmare.
He greedily devoured the vivianite crystals she left in our skin as consolation for not bonding with her. He could be an emotional eater.
“Pumpkin, we have to stop meeting this way. You’re going to give me the wrong idea,” I growled into her hair.
I rubbed my face in the delicate strands rather than grind my erection into her soft thighs. She felt it regardless, judging by the way she stiffened against me. Maggie gassed out fast for being so athletic. The muscles beneath my now clawless hands twitched.
“To what do I owe the pleasure? Should we have had a goodbye fuck instead of a goodbye kiss?” I lied. I knew why she was here. Her revenge perfumed the air and I was feral for it.
“Let me go and I’ll show you which.”
The wrong thing was hard to resist. Any pain dealt by her was the greatest pleasure. I might have told her why I had ended her mentor’s life, but I didn’t want her to like me. What if it grew into something uncontrollable? I already couldn’t stop consuming her hate.
Instead, I released her, and I braced for her next assault.
She shocked me into the saddle. Maggie slipped off the salamander, scooped up her pack in the bramble, and ran down the path before us.
Smart woman. At least she dressed appropriately for a run.
Outfitted in sturdy Bakh hide boots, a tight pair of leather pants and a linen shirt under a dark leather vest with plenty of empty loops for weapons.
I watched Maggie grow smaller and smaller, listening to the trees giggle and whisper, until the dense foliage forced her right, out of sight.
I waited, tossing the salamander a few centaur beetles for a snack, measuring the sun’s progress through the sky. This was an annoying delay, but the thicket was too excited by our presence, and not even my magic would let us pass if it wanted to keep us here. Better to play nice - for once.
I tapped my fingers against the saddle and was about to get down when I heard her pelting footsteps along the path. The thicket spat her out, with her travel pack, just a few feet from where she started.
I opened my arms. “I know you can’t resist me.”
Maggie’s eyes grew wide, and she looked for the path she had just exited only to find it missing.
“What is happening?”
“You won’t get back to the Keep without me. Hop on.” I patted the saddle in front of me.
“I’m not going back there like a coward. You will answer for your crimes.”
My, my. She did have a high opinion of her skills. “You’re zero for two. I hope your motivation is holding up. And if I were a coward, I would have stayed and weathered your tender affections. But I would rather regain my throne if I have your permission.”