Chapter 26 Marked #2
“I . . . I’m not exactly sure how I did. I didn’t really mean to. It just sort of happened.”
“So, make it ‘just sort of happen’ again. If you can shadowstep into Kit’s chambers by barely thinking about it, I’d say the possibilities are quite endless now.”
“I wasn’t thinking at all,” Elyria said, heat blooming in her cheeks as she realized just how very true that was. “That’s the problem.”
“You were feeling,” Nox suggested, a proud look on their face. “Which is precisely what I told you to do.”
“You told me absolutely no such thing. You told me I cannot leash my shadows the same way others might, and that my being a wildshaper made this all something new.” Elyria glanced at Sid. “Now, of that last bit, I will admit you seem to have been right.”
Nox rolled their crimson-black eyes. “Always the tone of surprise. Of course I was right. And I’m right again now. You were feeling, embodying your shadows, rather than actively trying to bend them. So, just try to get yourself feeling that way again.”
Elyria sunk into her chair, raking her hands over her face. Shadowstepping here and all the talk of leaving tomorrow had been an excellent distraction from the swell of thoughts and emotions that she’d been staving off in the aftermath of what happened with Cedric, but now . . .
What had she been thinking? Why did she let it go so far? And then, most glaring of all, why did she bite him?
Holy fucking shit. I bit him.
Elyria didn’t want to analyze the how or why of what happened. She was too busy trying to scrub her mind of the shame that was still crawling up her spine from Cedric’s rejection.
Not a rejection, said her rational side.
Shut the fuck up, said the rest of her.
On some level, Elyria understood that she was not quite in her right mind. That her fae instincts were in overdrive, the rush of warmth and heat and rightness from her orgasm overwhelming her higher sensibilities.
The man had simply wanted to talk, for fuck’s sake.
He probably wanted to acknowledge just how terrible of a mistake they’d made.
Then, ever the honorable knight, he would reassure her that they could remain professional about it.
It could be a one-time dalliance, a break in their composure, and they could leave it at that.
Logically, Elyria knew all this.
Emotionally though? She wanted to break every fucking surrounding surface, and it was only the fact that she was in Kit’s room that stopped her. She had bitten him. She had tried to claim him. A human, no less. What the fuck was she thinking?
Elyria had been with many lovers in her two hundred and sixty-one years of life. Given that she knew her way around a woman’s body better than the vast, vast majority of her male lovers, her expectations of how much expertise a human might have in that department were not high. At all.
But Cedric . . . The man was clearly no neophyte. His fingers had moved expertly, the buzz of power that ran through Elyria at his touch increasing her pleasure tenfold.
It had been a long, long time since it had been like that.
It wasn’t just the physical touch, though that had, of course, been exquisite. It was the way it went deeper, further. Hummed along that thread tied between them to the point where she simply couldn’t stop herself.
She’d clamped her fucking teeth down and bit.
And like the reckless fool he was, like he knew exactly what she was asking for without her having to say a stars-damned word, he’d let her.
In those moments of unadulterated bliss, with her teeth on his skin and his groans in her ears and his blood pulsing beneath her touch, when more than just their magic thrummed between them, there was something else there that Elyria had never felt before.
Of course, in the near century spent with Evander, they had bitten one another many times over. They were fae, for fuck’s sake. But that visceral, all-consuming need to do it? Not just to bite, but to claim? To mark him? It had never been like that.
Elyria knew what it meant. What she didn’t know was how to come to grips with it. With what she’d suspected for a while now but still wasn’t sure how to put voice to it.
It didn’t matter, anyway. Without him claiming her in return, the mark would fade in time. Everything would go back to normal, eventually.
A flickering thought in the back of Elyria’s mind surfaced, wondering if that’s why he had stopped her. If he understood what she had done and hadn’t wanted to reciprocate.
But no. He didn’t know. Why would he? How could he?
If there was one thing Elyria could count on, it was the total lack of a thorough Arcanian education here in Havensreach—especially when it came to magic.
And weren’t bonds a type of magic? There was no reason for Cedric to understand what she’d done, what it meant.
And, again, none of it mattered. Regardless of what happened between them, they were going in separate directions tomorrow.
The room had grown quiet while Elyria was lost in thought.
Despite the knowing looks both Nox and Kit had given her—perhaps they really were spending a little too much time together—they’d shifted their attention back to the map spread across the table, murmuring about the quickest routes to Dawnspire and where to go beyond.
Elyria tuned them out, their voices fading along with the crackle of the fire in the hearth and the rustle of parchment. She knew she should listen. Knew she should care. But every word from either of their mouths only made the knot in her stomach twist tighter.
She didn’t want to picture the path to Dawnspire.
Didn’t want to discuss whether they should bring a packhorse or a wagon.
Didn’t want to chat about whether Thraigg’s horse would need special accommodations.
And she definitely didn’t want to think about the fact that Cedric wouldn’t be going with her.
“I have to go,” she said suddenly, rising from her chair. “If I’m leaving tomorrow, there’s a lot that needs to get done.”
“It’s all being taken care of, Ellie,” Kit said softly. “You just focus on you. Do what you need to.”
Elyria swallowed at the implication.
“Or better yet, go practice some more,” Nox said, the edge of their mouth curving back up into another smirk. “Your shadow mastery is about to be put to a whole new kind of test. Think your sparrows are up to the task?”
“Guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Elyria said sharply as she moved toward the door, though she couldn’t stop her own grin from surfacing at the way Kit rolled her mismatched eyes at the nocterrian.
“Oh, and Ellie?”
“Yes?” Elyria paused with her fingers curled around the door handle.
“Don’t forget your cat.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur. She trusted Kit when she said that the preparations for leaving were being taken care of, but Elyria needed to stay busy. So, she went about the palace, never stopping long enough for more than a few words of conversation here and there, always in motion.
She checked on supplies, ensuring enough dried rations had been set aside for the trip.
She visited the stables. She went to see if Kymber needed help packing up Elyria’s things.
She would be traveling light but didn’t want to leave anything important behind.
Who knew when she would be back? If she ever would be?
Elyria wrapped her arms around herself, blankets twisting around her legs as she curled up on her side, ignoring the way Sid stirred lazily on the bed next to her.
From the moment Elyria had hauled the cat out of Kit’s room, Sid had been a right nuisance.
Elyria wasn’t even sure why she’d bothered.
As soon as they’d crossed the threshold, Sid disappeared in a poof of shadowy smoke.
The shadowcat seemed incredibly content to come and go as she pleased, reappearing at such wildly inopportune moments—the instant Elyria stepped into the bathing chamber seemed to be a particular favorite—that Elyria couldn’t help but think she was doing it on purpose.
She’d caught multiple instances of the shadowcat sneering at her, as though Sid was highly displeased with her for the simple act of existing.
Elyria had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the knight that Sid had been so clearly enamored with from the moment she sparked to life.
The moonlight beaming through the window mixed with the shadows curling off Sid’s sleeping form, creating a smokey mist that seemed a physical manifestation of the fog clouding Elyria’s mind.
Every thought she had looped back to Cedric. To the broken pieces of something precious she might’ve left lying between them when she ran away. Had she ruined it? Whatever this was?
She pressed her cheek into her pillow, watching the final embers fading in the fireplace. Is that what we are too? she thought. A flash in the dark. A bright burn snuffed out before it ever had the chance to catch.
She should just let it be. Let him go. Let this thread between her and Cedric fray under the strain of distance and duty.
They still had their roles to play, their own missions ahead of them.
He would look for the crown. She would finally serve Varyth Malchior the justice he deserved.
Neither of them needed the other to accomplish their goal .
. . for now, at least. If Cedric found the other half, and if Elyria was able to locate Malchior and reclaim the first piece, they would deal with each other later, when it came time to claim the crown in earnest.
When it came time to close the Chasms, for Elyria to fulfill her goal.
But at this juncture, those both felt like rather big ifs, so wouldn’t it be better for them just to part ways?
It would be cleaner that way. Smarter.
Safer.
But—
But what if I can’t let it go? What if we go our separate ways and I still can’t stop thinking of him?
What if this is our final chance?
The thought cut sharper than any dagger, and suddenly, Elyria regretted her purposeful avoidance of the knight. She was very much done with living under a cloud of what-ifs.
She hated the idea of him thinking she regretted it.
She hated the idea of regretting at all.
Her decision solidified in Elyria’s chest as she tossed the blankets aside, Sid releasing a pitiful mewl as one landed atop her.
“You stay here,” she warned the shadowcat.
Sid poked her head out from underneath the blanket, offered Elyria an irritated hiss, then padded around in a circle, curled up, and promptly fell back asleep.
Elyria watched the shadows emanating from the cat swirl in slow, lazy patterns. Like they, too, were dozing.
For Elyria, sleep could wait.
This could not.
Her own shadows pooled at her feet as she swung her legs over the side of her bed. She tugged the hem of her nightdress down and smoothed her loose hair, tucking it behind her ears.
And then she stepped into the dark.