Chapter Two
Dashiel
It was a new day, and I stood across the street from the building where Landon worked, not moving.
I preferred this world over mine. But I hardly ventured within the city unless the Blackwood brothers or Soren needed assistance.
I had a quiet cottage in a secluded area, and when I needed supplies, I portalled items through from the village outside the kingdom in our realm.
The city, while wondrous with its tall, modern buildings, was loud and distracting.
Humans, with their focused or preoccupied, tired expressions, passed in and out through the front doors of the building that held my mate.
My fated mate.
The thought settled through me, warm and steady, as it had since the moment the bond revealed itself. Since the instant I had seen him—truly seen him—and known, without question, without doubt, that Fate had chosen him for me.
I lifted my gaze to the upper floors, though I did not know which one housed him. It did not matter. I could feel him.
It was faint, like a thread drawn taut between us.
Not enough to guide me to the exact room, but enough that I knew he was in there.
Alive, whole, and within reach.
Mine.
The word rose instinctively and naturally.
If we consummated our bond, its strength would grow. I would know exactly where he was and how he felt.
Though with my own ability, I could slip into his mind from a distance and speak to him telepathically. But I knew that would disturb him.
The urge still lingered, though. I wanted to see him, hear him, touch him in some way.
I closed my eyes briefly, steadying the possessive instinct before it could take hold too strongly.
Landon had made himself clear.
This was overwhelming for him. Even unwanted, perhaps, or at the very least unexpected.
He did not understand our world. Did not understand what it meant to be bound to another by Fate itself.
And I would not make that harder for him. Even if every instinct within me demanded I go to him. To ensure he was well, or simply to be nearby.
My fingers curled slightly at my sides before I forced them to relax.
He needed space and time. Especially since I had given in to this instinct only yesterday, when I went to his house.
My gaze softened as I looked at the building once more.
Landon.
My beloved.
Even his name felt right. It had grounded me in a way I did not think possible.
A faint smile touched my lips. He was mine. Even when he was so very human and drank that horrid drink called coffee, which I pretended to sip. I had waited a lifetime for him, so I could wait just a little longer for my beloved to become comfortable with me.
And then hopefully accept me.
Maybe I needed to speak with the Blackwood brothers or Soren, who was freshly mated, to see if they could give me advice on how to woo this human of mine.
I wanted him to be happy when he saw me. Smile or laugh around me and look at me as though I were the only elf he could see himself with.
But I had to calm down and be patient.
I exhaled slowly, grateful that Fate brought Landon into my existence.
“I will treat you as the gift you are because that is what you are to me.”
The words I spoke when we had first met echoed quietly in my mind.
I meant them with every part of what I was.
Landon might not believe it yet—might not understand it—but I would show him, through action, through patience, and through unwavering respect.
All in time.
Yes. I nodded once to myself. I would show him that he was not bound to a being who would take from him, but to an elf who would give everything.
A soft sound drew my attention as someone brushed past me on the sidewalk, muttering an apology I did not require.
They would see only the glamour I cast that made me look like they did.
Landon hadn’t seen it the previous morning, even though I had it in place.
He had only seen the real me, which had me smiling again.
I inclined my head slightly in acknowledgment to the rushing man, though he had already moved on.
Humans.
They were so unaware of the worlds that existed just beyond their own.
Landon had been one of them.
Until now.
I lowered my gaze slightly, my thoughts shifting to his son, Monkey. The young man had watched me closely the other night. He was protective, wary, and rightfully so.
To him I was a monster they had just met.
Landon was Monkey’s anchor. His family.
And now I stood as a presence who could alter that. Was the boy worried I would take him away?
I would never do that.
If Landon chose me—no, when he chose me—then I would ensure that his world was not diminished, but expanded.
A faint exhale left me. There was much to consider, to navigate, and all of it rested on a single truth: Landon had not chosen me.
Not yet.
My gaze rose once more to the building. I was ashamed that I watched from a distance like some unrestrained creature, especially as the urge to step forward pressed against me again.
Yet, I did not change or leave.
I couldn’t.
He was mine to protect.
I wanted to enter his workplace and find him. To simply see him, even if it was just for a moment.
I could do it easily.
No one would stop me.
No one would question it because to everyone else I would look human.
And yet, I stilled.
No, that would not be a good action for me to take toward him because it would only be for me and my wants.
A soft chime broke through my thoughts, and I glanced down, drawing the small communication device from my pocket.
A human invention, but it was efficient and useful.
The name displayed across the screen caused my posture to straighten instinctively.
I answered without delay. “Father.”
“Dashiel.” His voice carried warmth, strength, and quiet authority even through the phone.
He was the king of our people, and yet, in this moment, he was simply my father. The one who had cared for all his sons since the day we lost our mother.
“You have not called as you usually do,” he observed. “I wondered if something had occurred.”
Something within me eased at the concern in his tone. “It has,” I replied.
There was a pause before he demanded, “What has happened?”
I allowed myself a small breath before I said the words that still felt profound, even now. “I have found my fated mate.”
Stunned silence met my declaration, followed by a sharp inhale, then by unmistakable joy in his one-word response. “Truly?”
“Yes, Father.”
A low laugh broke through the line, rich with emotion. “My son,” he said, unwavering pride in his tone now. “This is a blessing beyond measure.”
“It is,” I agreed quietly, my gaze drifting once more to the building before me.
“To think,” he continued, “that you would be the first among your brothers to find yours.”
A faint flicker of amusement touched me. “They will not be pleased.”
“No,” Father said, humor threading through his voice. “They will not.”
For a moment, I could almost hear my brothers’ disbelief and their irritation. Even their envy because they were older. But maybe the difference was that they did not venture beyond our world in search of their fated. They would never consider being with anyone outside of our own kind.
They may change their mind once they hear the news.
“You must bring him home,” Father said then, his tone shifting with purpose. “We would welcome him. He should be known to us. Honored as he deserves.”
My grip on the device tightened slightly. “I will,” I said. Then, more carefully, “When he is ready.”
A pause met that. “He does not yet accept the bond?” Father asked.
I winced. “No.”
“Ah.” Understanding settled quickly.
“He is human,” I explained. “This is… not a world he was aware of. The bond was revealed without warning.”
“A human?” I heard the surprise. “I never would have considered that possibility, but many of our kind do not travel like you do. Maybe there is hope for others to find their fated outside of our realm.” Father said. “You are certain he is yours, Dashiel?”
“Yes. The mark appeared on both of us.” There was no hesitation or doubt in that answer.
Father hummed. “Good. We will accept him as if he is one of us. He is a true gift. Do not worry, my son. He will come to understand in time.”
“I do hope he will,” I said. “But I will not rush him.”
“You care for him already?” Father quietly asked.
I looked toward the building again. Toward the place where he worked. Where he lived his life, unaware of how deeply he had already altered mine.
“I do,” I said simply.
A soft exhale came through the line. “Then you will do this correctly,” Father said. “As I have always known you would.”
I nodded. “I intend to.”
“Good,” he replied. “Win him, then. Not as Fate demands, but as he deserves.”
A faint smile touched my lips. “That is my intention.”
“Then you have my blessing, my son.”
“I am grateful.”
The king grunted. “Keep me informed,” Father added. “And when the time comes, we will be ready to welcome him.”
“I will keep you updated.”
“Good.” The line went quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “And Dashiel?”
“Yes?”
“May fortune favor you in this.”
It already had. “I believe it has.”
A quiet hum of agreement met me, then the call ended.
I lowered the device slowly, my gaze returning to the building.
To him.
My beloved.
I had one month to prove to Landon that this bond between us was not something to fear. It was to be cherished.
I tucked the phone away and rested my hands at my sides as my resolve settled.
“I will not fail you,” I murmured quietly.
One way or another, I would earn my Landon.