Chapter 61 Elowen
ELOWEN
I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
Or maybe not—I’m breathing, after all—but every inhale feels too full, too heavy, like I’m taking in more than just air.
I can feel Theron now and I don’t mean him walking beside me with his broad shoulder brushing mine and his long fingers entwined with my own.
I mean I can feel him—his emotions, the same way I can feel his Drake’s feelings when he Shifts.
I can’t explain it—it’s like something inside me has opened—like a door I didn’t even know was there—and now everything is pouring through it. His emotions roll over me in waves—strong and undeniable, impossible to ignore.
What I mostly feel is protectiveness.
It wraps around me first, thick and steady, like an invisible shield. Every time someone brushes too close…every time a voice gets too loud, or a stranger looks my way too long, it spikes—sharp and immediate.
Possessiveness follows—darker and deeper, coiling low and constant. It isn’t cruel or controlling—it’s something older than that. Something instinctive…primal.
Mine, it whispers, though I don’t think he knows I can hear it. Mine.
And beneath both of those I feel tenderness.
That one nearly undoes me. It’s softer, quieter, but no less powerful. It comes through in little pulses—when I laugh at something in the market, or when I hesitate before choosing something from a stall. When I look at him and quickly look away again.
It almost feels like he wants me to stay with him—like he can’t bear to let me go.
But, no—I can’t think that. I won’t think that. Because if I let myself believe that what I’m feeling from him is love…then what happens when I lose it? When I lose him?
My chest tightens and I look down at our joined hands instead, focusing on the solid warmth of his fingers laced through mine.
The gold ring glints softly in the lantern-light, the sapphire and emerald catching flickers of blue and green as we pass beneath the glowing orbs strung above the market stalls.
“For the past and the present,” he said when he gave it to me.
But he didn’t mention the future because we don’t have one. He knows it and so do I.
The thought makes something inside me ache, but I push it away and try to focus on where we are instead. I’m finally seeing the famous Night Market and I want to drink it all in, even though I know I’ll forget every bit of it once I work the Time Weaving spell.
The market has grown even livelier as night settles fully over the city. Music drifts through the air and laughter and voices are weaving together into a constant hum. The smells are richer too—sweet and savory and spiced, all tangled together in a way that makes my head spin and my mouth water.
Theron tugs me gently toward a row of food stalls.
“We haven’t eaten since…earlier,” he says, his voice gentler than it’s been all day. “Come on—let’s get something.”
“I’m not that hungry,” I protest, though even as I say it, my stomach gives a small, traitorous rumble.
He arches a brow at me.
“Liar.”
Despite everything, I almost smile.
“All right,” I admit. “Maybe I’m a little hungry.”
“That’s what I thought. Come on.”
He leads me to the first stall, where a plump woman is pulling golden pastries from a wide iron pan filled with bubbling oil. The scent is sweet and warm and buttery, with a hint of cinnamon that makes my mouth water.
“What are those?” I ask her.
“Fritter puffs,” the woman says cheerfully. “Stuffed with honey-cream and dusted with spiced sugar. The best in the market,” she adds proudly.
Theron doesn’t even hesitate.
“We’ll take two.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he’s already handing over coins. A moment later, I’m holding a warm pastry wrapped in thin paper. I take a cautious bite and nearly moan.
It’s soft and airy inside, the honey-cream filling warm and silky, melting over my tongue. The sugar on the outside crunches faintly between my teeth, releasing bursts of cinnamon and something floral I can’t quite name. But whatever it is, it’s really good.
“Oh,” I breathe. “That’s…Goddess, that’s amazing.”
“Mmm, I have to agree with you, little one,” Theron says, taking a bite of his own. “Fucking delicious.”
We move on before I can finish the fritter-puff, weaving through the crowd to another stall where a tall man with braided hair is tending a low grill. Skewers of glazed fruit sizzle over blue flames, the syrup they’re coated with dripping and hissing as it caramelizes.
“Try this,” Theron says, handing me one before I can protest.
The fruit is warm and sticky and the glaze is sweet with a sharp tang that makes my lips tingle. It bursts in my mouth, juice running down my fingers as I laugh and try to catch it.
“Careful,” Theron rumbles, reaching out to wipe a drop from my chin with his thumb. He sucks it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine as he does.
That sends a jolt through me and I feel it again—a burst of tenderness coming from him. I wonder why I’m feeling his emotions now—does it have something to do with what happened at the Fire Demon’s mansion?
I don’t know, but I like what I’m feeling.
We stop at one more stall—this one draped in deep purple cloth. Glass jars line the shelves, filled with glowing liquids in shades of amber and rose and gold.
“What’s this?” I ask, curious despite myself.
“Sweet-sap” the vendor says. “Warm and spiced. Good for easing the heart.”
Theron glances at me, something unreadable in his eyes, and buys a small cup without a word.
I sip it eagerly and find the drink is thick and creamy, laced with nutmeg and something slightly smoky that lingers at the back of my throat. It warms me all the way down, spreading through my chest and settling in my stomach like a quiet, steady glow.
It feels wonderful and it’s also strangely filling. By the time I finish it, I can’t eat another bite.
“I’m full,” I tell him, almost laughing. “I couldn’t eat anything else if I tried.”
“Good,” he says, nodding. “Then let’s go find somewhere to rest.”