Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

RANE

T he human struggled to keep up.

I didn’t slow as I moved through the Edelfen, leaves crunching under my boots and shadows rolling from my path. The human’s footfalls were a softer echo of mine, her steps lighter and more frequent at my back. Every few seconds, they came in a rush as she ran to match my strides.

Despite her efforts, the tether pulled tautly between us, its weight tugging at my wrist. Maintaining the fetter drained my energy, but it was necessary. If Lady Mirella was half as gifted as her conniving father, she’d slip into the shadows at the first opportunity. She’d regret it, of course, but she’d do it.

Because she was terrified. Good. Let her see what her father’s treachery had wrought.

Not all of the fear in the air was hers. Some lived in the shadows, which beckoned to me as I passed. Trees loomed on either side of the narrow forest path, their twisted branches and blackened trunks blocking out most of the moonlight that penetrated the Edelfen’s gloom.

But a few silvery puddles illuminated the ground, lighting the way over the dead leaves and fallen branches. Clumps of brush and tangled thorns huddled at the bases of the trees. Every so often, a pair of glowing eyes peered from the shadows that lingered between the trunks. The dark clouds massed at the edge of my vision, a few creeping forward as I kept my gaze straight ahead. When I glanced in their direction, they retreated swiftly.

A screech ripped through the air. Behind me, Mirella cried out. Leaves crunched and then she was a quivering presence at my back.

I paused, looking over my shoulder for the first time since we left the Covenant. She stood shivering, her dark blue gown clinging to her rounded hips and long legs. The thick strap of her leather satchel lay across her chest. When another screech rang out, she winced, her wide eyes glued to the trees next to the path.

“Are you afraid?” I asked.

She jerked her gaze to mine. “No,” she said, lifting her chin.

It was a stubborn chin. Round and soft but hard and stubborn all the same. The messy braid over her shoulder was a deep, rich red. Freckles a few shades lighter dusted her nose and high cheekbones. She was tall for a human but too curvaceous to be mistaken for an elf.

Because she isn’t one. I couldn’t let myself forget that. The trickle of elven blood in her veins was a remnant. A mistake that should have never happened. But my ancestors, for all their ancient wisdom, had been men like any others. And when a pretty human crossed their paths, the ancients had followed their cocks instead of their heads.

Now, I got to clean up their fucking legacies.

“You’re a liar,” I said, stepping forward. Mirella stepped back hastily, stirring the leaves. When I kept coming, she darted a look around as she continued backing up, her long velvet skirts threatening to send her tumbling to the ground.

I bore down on her, herding her toward the blackened, twisted trees. “Do you know what happens to liars in the Autumn Court, my lady?”

“Stop,” she gasped, color staining her cheeks as she scuttled backward. Anger and fear fired in her golden eyes. “What do you want from me?” she cried.

I seized her arm, stilling her retreat. Her pulse beat wildly in her neck, and her full tits heaved as she stood her ground.

“The truth,” I said, moving my hand to her neck. I thrust my thumb under her chin, forcing her head up. Her mouth trembled. There was no hardness there. Pink and plump, her lips promised nothing but delicate pliability.

She was beautiful. An arresting combination of ethereal and buxom. Even with sweat stains under her arms and dirt smudging her cheek, a light, feminine scent clung to her.

But so did the unmistakable stench of deceit.

“I can smell your lies,” I said.

Her throat moved under my palm as she swallowed. “What do they smell like?” she rasped.

Surprise flitted through me. Of all the responses I might have expected, curiosity wasn’t among them. She waited, wariness in her big, golden eyes.

“Sweet,” I said. “And sickly. Like rotting fruit.”

Her breath fluttered over my hand. Between her parted lips, her teeth were white and even. She held her hands against her skirts, the shadow tether black against the creamy skin of her wrist. Her heart-shaped face was the same shade—except for a purple stain on her jaw.

“Who struck you?” I demanded, tilting her head. When she resisted, I tightened my grip until she gave in with a low, angry sound. She held herself rigid as I examined the bruise.

“Answer me,” I said.

With her head angled away, she was forced to watch me from the corner of her eye. She licked her lips. “Gerren. The blacksmith.”

A big man. One who wielded a hammer for a living. With a more forceful blow, he could have broken her jaw.

Shadows moved at the corner of my vision. They grew bolder, thickening as they sent tendrils over the ground.

Mirella clearly sensed them. Her nostrils flared, and the pulse in the blue vein that ran down her neck throbbed more insistently. The light, feminine scent teased my nose again. Against my will, I dragged it deeper into my lungs. My mind went hazy. Dimly, I knew I’d lingered too long. The Edelfen was impatient—and hungry.

But, fuck, I was hungry too. The haze in my head thickened. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of my mind, caution bloomed. I had somewhere to be. Something important to do.

Later.

Yes. It was better to wait.

Of course it is.

“Of course,” I murmured.

The woman under my hand whimpered, her auburn brows drawing together. Her satchel shifted as she leaned away from me, the strap slipping under one plump breast. Her nipples were hard under her velvet bodice.

“Let me go,” she said, her eyes glittering like citrines in the darkness.

My dick tightened, blood pumping hard and fast to my shaft. Was this how my ancestors had felt? My people produced few children. The philosophers among us claimed our immortality was to blame. We grew too cold, they said, too far removed from the heat and friction of creation. The woman under my hand was warm. She burned with life, little rivers of it coursing under her soft skin. She’d be soft everywhere.

Take her.

Yes. I should.

“Let go,” she gasped, struggling harder. The tether swung between us. She fumbled with something. Silver flashed, and then pain pierced my gut.

The haze evaporated, replaced with icy clarity. I gripped Mirella’s wrist. Together, we looked down at the blade she’d plunged into my stomach.

She growled, drawing my head up. “I said let go .” She twisted the knife, piercing something inside me. Searing pain spread through my abdomen.

A death blow in a mortal. Someone had taught her where to strike. And she’d meant to kill, not incapacitate.

I squeezed her wrist, grinding the bones together until she cried out and released the knife.

“That was very stupid,” I said. Then I shoved her hard, sending her stumbling backward. She might have fallen, but the tether went taut, allowing her to stay on her feet. She kept her distance as I ripped open my shirt, then watched with round, disbelieving eyes as I wrenched the blade from my flesh.

Intestines bulged from the wound. Grimacing, I pushed the waxy-looking ropes back into my stomach.

“Gods…” Mirella breathed. She swallowed convulsively, her pale face tinged with green.

“There are no gods in the Edelfen,” I said. “Only nightmares.” I pinched the edges of the wound together with blood-soaked fingers. My flesh burned as it knit back together. When the last of the pain fled, I jerked the tether, dragging Mirella into me.

“Don’t!” she cried, panting as I ripped the satchel over her head. When I flipped it upside down and shook it open, she fell silent. Her lips thinned as the satchel’s contents spilled to the ground.

Foolish , I berated myself. I’d been careless, neglecting to search the bag the moment I had Mirella in my grip.

Andrin would call my oversight arrogance. And he’d be correct. Mirella Lornlark looked soft. But so did snakes. Slick and spineless, they hid their fangs until they were positioned for a quick kill. And Mirella had sprung from the most faithless serpent of all. She’d been raised in a nest of vipers. Why should I expect her to be any different?

Bandages and folded cloths dropped to the leaves, followed by several glass vials filled with liquid. When I was certain the satchel was empty, I gave it a final shake and threw it aside.

“What are those?” I asked, pointing to the vials.

Mirella hugged her midsection, dislike glinting in her eyes. “Medicines. Supplies for healing.”

I sneered as I tucked her blade in my pocket. “You use a knife to heal?”

“No,” she snapped. “I use it to fend off bastard elves who try to hurt me.”

I grabbed her braid and hauled her against me. “Strange,” I said, winding her hair around my fist. “I seem to recall you thrusting a fucking knife into my guts a few seconds ago.”

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, pushing at my chest. She winced when my knuckles pressed against her nape, then gasped when I ran my free hand down her flank.

“You think I want to hurt you?” Holding her tight, I ran my palm around her waist and down her other flank, then rucked up her skirts and continued the search.

She struggled, but she couldn’t do much with her hair trapped in my grip. Still, her hatred was palpable as I slipped a hand between her legs and checked for another blade.

“Do you deny it?” she challenged, a tremor in her voice as I cupped her sex through her flimsy undergarments. She made a strangled sound when I moved my hand to the cleft of her ass.

When I was certain she possessed no other weapons, I pulled my hand from under her skirts. As the velvet fell to her boots once more, I dropped her braid.

“Look at me,” I ordered. She complied, her golden eyes promising retribution.

Ah, there was the snake.

Gaze locked with hers, I cupped and squeezed her breasts, feeling for another knife. She glared, her chin high and her stare unwavering. At the edge of my vision, the shadows retreated farther into the trees.

A breeze stirred the air, making the leaves shift and sigh.

For a moment, confusion replaced my anger. The Edelfen was stagnant. For two hundred years, its trees had stood frozen. Nothing moved in the forest. Nothing grew.

Only died. Walto Lornlark had seen to that.

The wind stopped. The leaves settled.

An anomaly. Nothing more.

Mirella watched me, a slight frown between her brows. Her expression had softened. Now, she looked as she had at the Covenant. Guileless. Innocent. The kind of enemy that could slip past defenses and ruin a kingdom.

“Yes,” I said. “I want to hurt you.”

The softness fled her eyes. She tried to pull away, but I caught her chin.

“You may be a liar, my lady, but I am not. So let me be clear.” I ran a light thumb over her jaw, tracing the bruise the blacksmith had given her. “I want to hurt you a great deal.”