Chapter 16

" G rayson?" I repeat with disbelief, my heart pounding in my chest as the person steps through the trees.

Except it can't be him, can it? I've not seen the high mage since before I escaped Arhaven. He'd left with the other high mages to complete some mysterious task, and he promised to return, except the king forced my hand when he tried to kill my friend. I had to openly defy him, pushing forward Vaeril's and my escape plans. I don't regret my actions, I saved my friend, but I do regret not being able to say goodbye or explain what happened to Grayson.

The magic that fills the space around us does feel familiar, but it's much stronger than I'm used to feeling from him. He pauses in the shade of one of the large trees, watching me, and there's a wariness about him that makes me unsure. Closing my eyes, I reach out with my senses, touching his magic. It instantly responds to mine, caressing me like a lover. This is Grayson's power, just fully unleashed, the full strength of a high mage. He was really holding himself back at Arhaven.

He gasps as I open my eyes, pulling away from his magic. "It really is you," he exclaims, his voice tight with emotion as he steps out from the shadow of the tree and hurries towards me. Seeing him like that breaks something inside me, and a sob escapes me as I take a step forward to meet him, our bodies colliding with an ‘oomph.' We wrap our arms around each other, and I simply breathe in his scent, not quite realising how much I missed him until he's here in my arms.

"I've been searching for you," he mutters into my hair, his body pressed tightly against mine. "I can't quite believe I've found you."

His words make the bond inside me glow, and I feel complete with the three of them here. Grayson has always held a special place in my heart, and not knowing where he's been or if he's been safe has haunted me. "I…" I trail off, not knowing how to put my feelings into words. All of my words seem too trivial to explain how I'm feeling, and I don't want to spoil or take away from this moment. I just want to soak up his presence.

"I know," he whispers, and for that minute, I can pretend that we are just a normal couple. That I was never a slave and am not goddess blessed and heading into a war. That I'm not bonded to three different men from different races and that there isn't a great evil about to envelop us all. I can almost see the life we would've had. Grayson would have been a court magician, and we would have had a small house in the city with a couple of kids. A peaceful happy life. But then I never would have met Tor or Vaeril, or Naril and Eldrin, let alone any of the other elves who have become my friends.

With a sigh, I slowly pull away from Grayson's hold. Taking a small step back, he keeps his hands on my shoulders as he looks over me while I do exactly the same to him. He looks older, stress making a few fine lines appear on his face, and I'm sure I spot a few wispy grey hairs in his dark locks. He's wearing the magicians' usual dark blue tunic with golden buttons and epaulettes to show he has the status of a high mage. A large, dark blue cape covers most of his clothing, a golden fastening at the neck the only embellishment. He's tall, like the others, but he seems…bigger, and I realise it's because of his magic. He's also carrying himself differently. People always showed him respect before, but I couldn't sense his magic then. Now, it's practically flowing out of him.

"You look different," he finally says, and there's something in his voice that makes me raise my eyebrow, like he can't decide if that's a good thing or not. "You look good," he assures me, only to frown. "But you look like them." The atmosphere changes as he dips his head, gesturing behind me. I don't need to turn around to know he's talking about the elves. I'm wearing elvish clothing and have been styling my hair in the same fashions they do, but I feel like he's talking about more than just my attire.

He doesn't know I'm part elf , I realise, feeling sick. Grayson's hatred for elves is deep-seated and isn't going to be easy to change.

Grayson pulls his hands away and shifts his weight, glaring at the three males behind the magical barrier. Taking a step to the side, I angle myself so I can see all of them. Tor seems to have relaxed a little at seeing the mage. The two of them met back in Arhaven, but he's ready to strike at a moment's notice, his eyes flicking from the mage to me, and back again. When I glance over at the elves, I'm surprised by what I see. Vaeril still has his glowing hands pressed against the barrier, snarling as he narrows his eyes on the mage. This doesn't surprise me, but Naril does. The elf is crouched and looks ready to pounce, his lips pulled back over his teeth, exposing his sharp incisors as he snarls at Grayson. I've never seen Naril act like this before, he's always been the calmer of my companions, perpetually ready with a snarky comment. The presence of a magician must be setting off his fae instincts. I won't flatter myself to think that he's acting like this out of some need to protect me.

Sidestepping, Grayson closes the gap between us, holding his hand out to me while never taking his eyes off the elves behind the barrier. "Clarissa, we need to go," he urges in a low, unhurried voice.

"What?" Frowning, I look up at him in confusion, convinced I've heard him wrong. He wants me to leave with him?

"My magic will hold them for a while, but they're fast," he explains, and my stomach sinks. "We need to go now if we want to get a head start on them," he continues, and I gape at him in horror. He's still looking away, so he can't see my distress, but I know what's about to happen. He's going to make me choose, and when he finds out what's happened, about who I am, he's going to hate me.

His outstretched hand hangs between us, and he finally realises I haven't taken it. Turning from the elves, he looks at me with a frown, like he can't understand why I'm holding us up. He's my knight in shining armour coming to my rescue yet again, but I'm stalling.

"Why would I want to get away from them, they're my…friends." I stumble over the word ‘friends,' but I try to keep my voice light, attempting to make him understand without saying it directly. He'll work it out soon, he'll see that the bond between Vaeril and me is stronger than friendship.

Pulling his hand back, he shakes his head, and his expression hardens. "The elf kidnapped you," he argues, like I've been so traumatised by said kidnapping that I don't understand what's happened to me. "He forced you to break the spell on his cuffs, and he kidnapped you," Grayson reiterates, telling me his version of my escape, his voice getting more forceful, as if he's trying to convince himself too. "The tribesman was working with him and created a diversion so the elf could get away, taking you as his prisoner." Taking a deep breath, he looks from me to Tor before rubbing his eyes.

"As soon as I heard about that night, I left the guild and I've been trying to find you." He opens his eyes, turning to face me again. He scans my face, as if he's looking for something. "I know what the king is saying is a lie. I know you didn't kill those people." He lowers his voice as he speaks as if trying to reassure me.

A flash of alarm jolts through me at his words. Stepping forward, I place a hand on his wrist. "Kill? What do you mean?" I feel sick as my mind starts spinning, imagining the worst. The Mother's vision flashes into my mind of the mass graves the slaves were digging while the king and Jacob watched over them.

"A lot of people died when you escaped, and a lot of people just simply disappeared." His voice is soft, like he can sense how sick his words are making me. "There have been more disappearances in the city, and the king is blaming you." Dark eyes flit over my face as he speaks, trying to judge my reaction, but I have no words. Am I surprised that the king is blaming me? No, he was looking for a scapegoat, and I was the perfect target. I messed up his plans when I refused to let him kill Aileen, then I took one of his greatest assets, causing a whole load of chaos in my wake as we escaped. That doesn't take away the pain the accusations cause though, or the slight wariness in Grayson's eyes as he explains.

Taking a deep breath, he scrubs a hand over his face, his expression turning serious. "The magicians have pulled away from Arhaven. We can't follow a king that was killing so many of his subjects."

My eyes widen, and I suddenly understand why he looks so exhausted. The magicians have always followed the Kings of Arhaven and fought for our people against the elves on the battlefield. They have been the only thing that has stopped the humans from being wiped out by the elves, their magic holding them back. To have made that decision…

"But the people…" I whisper, a deep sadness tearing through me at the thought of what this will mean, the gravity of this decision…and I'm at the root of it all. I may not have been the reason the magicians pulled their assistance away from the king, but I was the catalyst. "They will be slaughtered—" I protest, but I'm cut off by Grayson shaking his head.

"The high mages have erected a magical wall around the human lands and are continually monitoring it. It will keep the elves out, so the humans will be safe," he informs me, disapproval lining his tone as he frowns at me. "We wouldn't leave our people defenceless, even if we didn't follow their king, Clarissa."

Rebuked, I nod my head in acceptance. I never should have doubted that Grayson would leave innocents in danger, but is that a slight accusation in his words? No, he just told me that he believes I was kidnapped by Vaeril, that he's putting all of the blame on the elf. Or is that just what he wants to believe? There's a tightness around his eyes that suggests I may be right, and a vice constricts around my heart at that thought, that he might feel that way about me, that I abandoned my people. He's right though, I did. When I had my opportunity, I escaped with Vaeril, leaving everyone else behind. But I'm not like Grayson, I wasn't a high magician or someone in a position of power, I was just a woman who was desperate for a normal life.

He's still waiting for my response, and I can feel the weight of the guys' eyes from behind the magical barrier. The atmosphere is tense, and I know that if I make the wrong move, say the wrong thing, I could ruin things with Grayson permanently, and I'm not sure I could survive that. "I didn't kill anyone," I promise, keeping my eyes locked with his so he can read my honesty. His shoulders relax, and his eyes close in relief as my words sink in, and I know he thinks he was right. "But," I start, and he frowns, his body instantly stiffening at the tension in my voice, "I did help Vaeril escape. I wasn't forced, I did it on purpose." Silence greets my admission as he stares at me. "We escaped together."

He stares at me like he's never seen me before, like he's staring at a stranger, and it hurts in a way I've never felt before. But I'm not going to beg for forgiveness. I don't regret my decision, I just wish the circumstances had been different. The king was going to kill me, and I believe that was my only chance to escape.

Grayson takes a step back from me, a pained look crossing his face. "You let the elf escape?" he asks with disbelief, and his magic seems to shimmer around him. "Our enemy?" The more frustrated he gets, the more his magic reacts, and I can hear the elves behind the barrier responding, but I don't take my eyes from Grayson.

"Yes. We are not all that different," I reason, trying to keep my voice calm and even, wishing he knew them like I did, but years of hatred make people blind.

"They kill our people, Clarissa!" Grayson roars, taking a menacing step towards me, his magic flaring out with his temper, so unlike the mage that rescued me at Arhaven. His magic doesn't touch me, and I know he's not angry at me. This is his frustration and hatred of the elves, but Vaeril doesn't know that. Thanks to the bond, I feel the moment he loses the battle with his protective mate instincts, and it snaps something within me.

"And you kill theirs!" I shout back, losing my temper. I snarl up at him, his face so close to mine I could reach up and kiss him, except right now, that's the last thing I want to do. Grayson looks like he's torn between kissing me and yelling at me some more too, so I take a deep breath, step back, and put some space between us. I turn to face Vaeril, who is crouched in front of the magical shield, watching Grayson with his teeth bared, his pupils wholly black. Every trace of my mate is gone, taken over by the protective bond and the instinctive need to defend me at all costs. The barrier that separates us must have set it off when he saw Grayson lose his temper, stripping away all his reasoning and leaving only his base needs. His black eyes flick to me, and a low purr rumbles in his throat as I walk towards the barrier.

I feel Grayson's heavy gaze on me the whole time, and when I turn to face him again, he's already shaking his head like he knows what's coming. "He helped me, Grayson. A slave, a nobody. His enemy. He helped me, and he tried to give me a home."

"No."

"Grayson…" I say with a sigh. He's striding towards me now, holding his hands up as if he can stop what I'm going to say, as if it will make it less true. "He's my mate."

"No!" he shouts. The betrayed way he looks at me is like a physical blow. I always knew this would be tough, but this is ten times worse than I thought it would be. Turning away from me, he raises his hands to his head as if he can't bear to look at me, and I feel his pain through our connection. I get the feeling that had I slept with Tor and completed the bond with him, that this would be easier for him to accept, but because I mated with an elf , I've done the worst thing in his eyes.

He turns to me, his face hardened. "You slept with him?" Every word he speaks seems to wound him, but I owe him the truth, and I won't be ashamed of it. "What about me, Clarissa? What about me?"

Ouch. Closing my eyes, I have to take a deep breath, my eyes stinging with tears I refuse to let fall. Grayson's pain hits me, tightening around me like a vice. "Grayson, I have a connection with all of you. How was I supposed to choose?" My voice breaks, betraying my distress.

"Me, you were supposed to choose me." He speaks like it's only the two of us in the whole world, his pain bared for me to see, wounds and all. I swear I can see wetness glittering on his cheeks, but in the next moment it's gone, and he's speaking again, moving towards me. "The goddess brought you to me." He sounds so confused. He trusts in the Great Mother and her plan for him so much, but can't comprehend that her plan for us is so much bigger than that.

Closing the distance between us, I stop just before him, fighting the urge to reach out and take his hand. "She also brought me to Vaeril and Tor. I can't choose," I explain, my tone apologetic. "I'm sorry, I truly am. I tried not to. I never wanted to hurt anyone."

Grayson glances over my shoulder at Tor before looking back at me with a resigned expression. "The tribesman too?"

When I nod, he lets out a pent-up breath through clenched teeth. "I know this is the Great Mother's doing, but this hurts." He needn't have said anything, his expression says how much pain this is causing him. "I don't know if I can do this. Sharing you…with an elf …" His eyes darken, and his magic flares again as he puts emphasis on that last word.

"The feeling is mutual, mage ," Vaeril growls out from behind the barrier, and I have to hold back my groan. He must be working his way through the pull of the instinct to protect if he's able to goad the magician, but when I glance over, I see his eyes are still black, and although he's standing, he still looks more feral than the Vaeril I know. Naril is standing just behind him, watching Grayson with his teeth bared, but he seems much more in control.

Grayson goes to take a step towards the elves, who hiss in response, and Vaeril falls into a crouch again. "I could kill you with a snap of my fingers," the mage sneers.

Watching the guys with wide eyes, I shake my head before stepping between them, holding my hands up to get their attention off each other and back on me. "Guys! Please, stop!" I shout, allowing the pain of this whole encounter to enter my voice. "If you hurt each other, you hurt me." It's as simple as that, and I hope they understand it. If they choose to continue to try and attack each other, then they care more about their hatred for one another than they do for me.

Grayson lets out a pained noise, throwing his head back and looking up at the sky, a prayer to the Mother on his lips. Naril's low voice reaches me, and I know he's talking Vaeril down from his instinctive need to attack the magician, to protect me. Violence is the last thing we need right now.

Finally lowering his gaze from the tree canopy that blocks out most of the sky, Grayson shakes his head. "This isn't going to work, Clarissa. I can never share you with an elf." His words are final, like he expects me to accept that and make a choice.

A sense of calm settles over me as I nod once, even though a piece of me feels like it's breaking. "Then you will never be able to be with me." If that's the way he feels, then it's as simple as that, and I will leave the choice up to him. He knows where I stand, and I won't choose.

Grayson obviously didn't expect that reaction, and panic overtakes his face as he takes a step towards me. "Clarissa, don't say that." Realising what he's about to lose, he frowns as he tries to backtrack. "Maybe we can work something—"

"No, Grayson," I interject, my sharp tone cutting off whatever he was about to say. "Your hatred for them is what will keep us apart." My voice breaks with my heart, and a single tear rolls down my cheek.

His face contorts as he reaches out, cupping my face gently. "Clarissa—"

"I learned more about my past, my heritage." I'm whispering now as I look up at him, and I know he's wondering why the tears are still rolling down my face, why this is relevant. I'm ready. It doesn't matter if he reacts badly to this. I'm still me. This doesn't change who I am, we just know more about where I came from. I brace myself for the fallout that's inevitably about to happen. "I'm part elf."

His thumb, which had been stroking my cheek, stops moving, and I close my eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. "What?" His voice sounds more shocked than angry.

There's still plenty of time for him to get angry , I chide, and I take a deep breath, using his silence to explain what I know. "My grandfather was a wood elf. He believed that humans and elves should live in peace, that the goddess, the Great Mother, wanted us to live together. So he left the elves and fell in love with a human," I tell him in a rush. "He had a son, my father." There's a long pause, and I can't keep my eyes closed any longer. I need to see his expression, I need to see if he's looking at me with the same hate and disgust that enters his face when he looks at Vaeril.

Except all I see is a great sadness. That vice around my chest tightens a little more, but I can't seem to stop talking. I have to know. "Do you hate me, knowing that I'm part elf? That one of my relatives was from the race you long to kill?" Another tear rolls down my cheek, but this time, he doesn't wipe it away with his thumb, the droplet trailing along my skin as I stare up into his torn gaze.

His silence says everything, and I can't do it any longer. I can't stand here with him looking at me like he's about to lose me. With a deep, choked breath, I pull away, unable to hold back my sob. A hand grips my arm, stopping me.

"No. No, Clarissa. I could never hate you," Grayson rushes out, pulling me into his embrace. I immediately bury my face into his robes as his arms wrap tightly around me, not realising how badly I needed to hear those words. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my chest as I take a huge, gasping breath, inhaling his scent as he rubs calming circles on my back. Resting his chin on the top of my head, he breathes deeply, and I'm sure he's doing the same thing I am—breathing like I can inhale him, wrapping myself in his aura, and remembering the steady feel of him against me. I'm not sure when I closed my eyes, but the darkness is comforting with his scent surrounding me. Reaching out to that place where the bonds dwell within me, I touch the connection between us. Grayson hums low in his throat, pulling me closer, and I can't hide my smile.

Unfortunately, Vaeril must see it too, because he starts snarling again and bangs a fist against the magical barrier. Groaning, I pull away from the mage and see he's scowling at the elf. "I may not hate you, but he is a different matter," he says, glaring at Vaeril.

Placing a hand on Grayson's arm, I wait until he looks away from the elves and down at me. "He's my mate, and he saved me." My tone is stern. I won't have the two of them attacking each other. "Can you live with that?" Softening my voice, I try to push away the anxiety that's trying to escape right now. I know I'm asking a lot from Grayson, and I refuse to take the choice away from him. I still don't know how much of this is my choice and what is goddess willed, but Tor and Vaeril are in my future. If he wants to be part of that future, there is space for Grayson too.

Thankfully, I don't have to wait long for an answer as Grayson gives me a slow nod, his eyes solemn.

"Can you let us out now?" Tor calls out, his tone light, but I can hear the slight note in his voice that gives away the tension he's feeling. Of the three of them behind the barrier, he looks the calmest, but I'd bet that if it came to a fight, he's the strongest. You don't want to anger one of the mountain tribesmen.

Grayson makes an unhappy noise in the back of his throat. I know this is not how he hoped this encounter would go. Reaching over, I take hold of his hand and give it a squeeze, nodding my head with a slight smile. He returns it slightly, then he lets go and moves closer to the barrier, frowning at the elves on the other side. With a frustrated sigh and shake of his head, Grayson raises his hands and, with a small flick of his wrists, releases the magical barrier.

The sound of breaking glass fills the space around us, and the horses that had previously been busy grazing on the grass rear up and gallop off into the trees. Eyes wide, I look around, almost expecting glass to fall from the sky, but of course there's nothing there, only the sense of magic being reabsorbed by Grayson. Tor and the elves are crouched and also looking around as if expecting glass to fall on them, their arms raised to protect themselves and confusion on their faces when they see nothing.

Turning to Grayson, I cross my arms over my chest and raise an eyebrow. He did that on purpose. I know I'm right from the little smirk he's trying to hide, although it soon vanishes when Vaeril appears in front of me using his fae speed. Over the elf's shoulder, I can see Grayson's expression darkening, but he doesn't say anything, just watches the two of us closely.

Vaeril rests his hands on my cheeks, and I bring my attention back to him. His brow is pulled into a severe scowl, and his eyes are still pretty black, but I notice he's regaining control. Holding me at arm's length, he examines me as if looking for any injuries. He was able to see me the entire time we were separated, but that doesn't seem to matter. "Are you okay?" His voice is tense. Tor is somewhere just to the side, but I know better than to try to look at another male while Vaeril is gripped by the mating bond.

"Vaeril, I'm fine," I insist, grasping his wrists with my hands and pulling them down from my face so I can tug him closer to me. Leaning forward, I place a slow, gentle kiss against his lips. He wants more, but it's enough to satisfy the bond. Anything more than that would be cruel with Grayson watching. Pulling back, I look carefully at Vaeril's face, frowning at the tension there. "Are you okay?"

Nodding once, he gives me a tight smile. "I just need physical contact." He steps back so I can see the others, staying by my side. He keeps his hand on the small of my back, but gives me enough space so I don't feel crowded. Naril walks over with his usual swagger, but I notice his eyes running over me as if checking for injury as well. Pretending not to notice, I glance over at Tor while Naril takes up position behind me.

Tor steps forward, but he surprises me by walking towards Grayson instead of coming over to us. Stopping just a few feet from the magician, the tribesman scowls. For a few moments he doesn't say anything, just stares at the mage, and it reminds me how intimidating Tor can be, based just on size and looks alone. To Grayson's credit, he doesn't shy away, just calmly meets his gaze, but I can feel the magic he's gathering just in case. "You have been bonded to Clarissa for a reason, so I won't kill you for how you just treated her." His accented voice is smooth and matter of fact. Tilting his head to one side, he hovers his hand over the axe that's strapped to his waist. "But if you ever hurt her like that again, or even so much as raise your voice to her, I will cut your balls off and offer them as a sacrifice to Holume."

Something must be broken inside me, because something about his threat sends a thrill surging through my veins. Not at the idea of Grayson being hurt, but Tor trying to protect my honour. There is an allure that stokes arousal to life within me.

Vaeril snorts at my side, reluctantly pulling my attention away from Tor and Grayson. "Suddenly, the tribesman doesn't seem so bad."

"Clarissa, if you don't want him, I'll have him." Naril hums in agreement behind me, and I can't tell if he's joking or not.

"Are we understood?" Tor prompts, drawing our attention back to the two of them. However, when I look over, I'm surprised to see Grayson isn't looking at Tor anymore, he's watching me.

With a look I can't identify, he nods before bringing his gaze back at the tribesman. "I understand."

The atmosphere instantly seems to relax, and breathing becomes easier once again. I'm still a little uneasy, like I'm waiting for Grayson to change his mind and try to take me away again, but at least things feel more certain for the moment. This is the first time I've been together with all of my mates in one place, and there is something that feels inherently right about that, like we are all meant to be here.

Squeezing Vaeril's hand, I start walking over to Tor and Grayson with him following by my side, Naril close behind us. Grayson eyes the two elves uneasily, and I see his fingers twitching as if he's having to stop himself from casting spells. Vaeril is stoic, but Naril is grinning at the magician, flashing his teeth as he tries to goad him.

Glaring at the elf, I turn back to Grayson with an awkward smile. "Ignore him, that's what I do most of the time."

With one last frown in Naril's direction, Grayson turns from the elf and looks at me once again. "Where do we go from here?" he asks, glancing at my companions, the packs on their backs, and the hoof prints in the earth. "You're not going to come with me, are you?" He sounds resigned as he asks, like he knows the answer already, and when I meet his gaze, I see he's smiling slightly.

Shaking my head, I feel my heart constrict tightly in my chest. He's just found me, and now he's going to leave again. "We're going to Tor's tribe. He thinks my aunt lives with one of the tribes," I explain, unable to keep the sadness out of my voice.

"Your aunt? That's great news." His smile is bright and genuine. "I wish I could come with you." That hint of regret is in his voice again, and I know I shouldn't ask him, he's got an important job to do. He has to protect the humans and help the guild at the keep, so it would be selfish to ask him to stay.

Plus, he's right, I should be excited, but all I feel is sadness that he's leaving again. "You can't come with us, can you?"

"No, I have to return to the guild. They need me there. We've pulled all our magicians from the battlefield, so my guidance is needed," he replies apologetically, and I know he feels pulled in two directions—to stay with the girl he has a connection with, or help protect his country. I need to do the right thing and let him go back.

Instead, when I open my mouth to speak, what comes out is different. "But you left to find me." It must have cost him greatly to leave his fellow magicians amidst a crisis, but I know he would have waited until the magical barrier was up first. His moral compass wouldn't have allowed him to leave until then. Except I know Grayson. Every moment he's away will feel like a betrayal, and he did that for me, to make sure I was safe.

"I left to find you," he agrees.

A small thrill goes through me, and I try to push it aside. "When are you leaving? Stay with us tonight?" I query quickly, hoping he'll agree, looking for any excuse to spend some more time with him before he leaves. "It's a long journey back, and you need to rest."

"I suppose one night won't hurt."

After Naril and Tor tracked down the horses, we set up camp in the small clearing Grayson had found us in. There had only been an hour or so left of useful sunlight in the forest, since the canopy is so dense that it gets dark much quicker here. Tor was frustrated that we hadn't made it to the mountains yet, but there hadn't been any point in travelling much farther, as the forest becomes more dangerous to travel in at night.

An awkward dinner around the campfire had seen us eating mostly in silence, while Grayson and the two elves glared at each other over their food. We've now been sitting here for an hour making small talk, and I'm feeling jumpy. Although I miss the company of the rude, grumpy Eldrin, it's probably a good thing he's not here to see the mage sharing supper with us. I don't think he would have been able to cope with it. I wince, just as I do every time Eldrin has come to mind since Tor told us about the attack on the elves. We have no way of knowing if he is safe, and it's driving me mad.

Grayson shifts in his seat by the fire and pushes up to his feet. "Well, I'm going to retire for the night. Thank you for supper." He addresses the last bit to Tor, who nods his head in acceptance. Grayson turns his gaze on me, his intense eyes locking onto mine. "Clarissa, I'll see you in the morning before I go." I can tell he wants to say more, but he won't say it in front of the others. So instead, he falls back on his manners and stiffly nods at the others, even though I know being polite to elves has got to feel awkward for him. "Goodnight."

Only Tor and I respond as he walks over to the tents. We only have four tents, originally one for each of us, but after some cajoling by Tor, Naril and Vaeril offered to share one, meaning Grayson was able to have a tent to himself. The others instantly relax once he's left, which makes me sad, but I don't comment on it. With the fire starting to die down, I feel my eyes getting heavy, but I have some things I want to do before I sleep, so I push up from my position on the ground and stand.

"I'm just going to speak to him for a bit," I tell the males who are all suddenly paying me a little too much attention. "Don't wait up for me, I'll see you in the morning."

"Clarissa—" Vaeril starts, a deep frown marring his brow, but Tor cuts him off.

"Vaeril, let her go."

Throwing the tribesman a grateful smile, I walk over to Grayson's tent and gently knock against the tent post, hoping he's not already asleep. "Grayson?" I push past the fabric entrance, my eyes flaring wide as I smack into his chest. His very tanned, bare chest. "Oh! I'm sorry, I should've waited outside…" My words trail off as I scramble back, my gaze getting caught on his body. I've never seen Grayson without a shirt on before. He always wore jackets or robes before, nothing that ever showed off his physique, and I'm suddenly reminded that the magicians are the humans' soldiers. They have to be able to fight as well as wield magic. His body is toned, and while not as muscular as Tor's or Eldrin's, he could easily put most men to shame. His chest is mostly hairless, except for a small smattering across his pecs and a trail of dark hair from his belly button down, which disappears into a pair of loose bottoms.

"No, it's fine, come in," he says, as he guides me in with a hand on my shoulder. "Is everything okay?" he asks after a second, frowning slightly at my dumbstruck expression.

Pull yourself together, Clarissa , I chide myself. You've seen plenty of bare chests before. I brush a strand of hair behind my ear, needing something to do with my hands so I don't do what my mind is begging me to do. "Yes, I'm fine," I assure him, looking around the tent so I'm not just gaping at his bare chest, but since there isn't much space, I end up looking at his bed. Flushing red, I quickly pull my gaze away as my cheeks heat and images of what we could be doing on that bed flash through my mind. What is wrong with me tonight? "I just needed to speak to you before you left."

As if he knows what I'm thinking, a small smile plays on his lips. Crossing his arms over his chest, he nods as he waits for me to speak. "Okay, I'm listening."

Suddenly feeling awkward, I realise I have nothing to say. Why is this so difficult now? Earlier, it felt like I needed him to breathe, and now I feel like a teenager trying to profess her love. Not like that's what I'm trying to do… My stomach rolls. Taking a deep breath, I look over at Grayson, and his face softens, feeling my internal struggle. This is Grayson, things have never been difficult with him. Just talk to him, and if you can't talk to him, show him. I'm not sure where the advice comes from, but it's right. Taking a step forward, I close the distance between us. "Well, you seemed like you had something you wanted to say out there."

He's watching me closely, and slowly, he nods. "You're right, I did." My heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest, but I don't say anything, I don't even move, not wanting to stop him. "None of this went as planned, Clarissa." He chuckles, but it's rueful, and I know he's thinking about our encounter in the clearing. I was supposed to go back with him, he was going to rescue me, the damsel, but instead, I rescued myself.

He cups my cheeks again, just how he had earlier in the clearing. "I love you. That's what I wanted to say."

I feel like I've been punched in the stomach, but at the same time, my heart feels like it wants to explode with happiness. It's an odd combination, and one I'm not sure how to deal with. Feelings are one thing, bonding is another, but from what I've been told, you don't have to love the person you're bonded too. Love is another type of bond altogether, and one that is much more dangerous. I suppose if I'm completely honest with myself, I knew this was coming, I felt it, but the fact that he feels it towards me is what I find difficult to believe.

"When I heard what happened, I knew the king was behind it. I wanted to kill him then and there. I was so close. It was Wilson who talked me out of it," Grayson confesses, and it takes me a few moments to realise that he's talking about my escape from Arhaven. "When I learned the elf had taken you—" I give him a look and he quickly stops. "That you had left with the elf, it felt like part of my heart had been crushed, like I couldn't breathe properly. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't, and I'm so sorry I couldn't come sooner. If I never left in the first place, this might not have happened." My heart aches for him. He feels guilty about leaving, thinking he could have stopped the king from slaughtering all those women, but that's the kind of man Grayson is.

Pausing, Grayson takes a deep breath. "Anyway, as soon as I got the opportunity, I started to track you down. There is something awful happening to the land, Clarissa." His eyes are haunted, and I know I'll have to update him at some point before he leaves. He must have seen some of the darkness the Mother warned me about. "But I found you. I promised myself that the first thing I would say when I found you was that I love you. Guess I messed that up." He laughs again, but it holds no humour as he shakes his head.

I know what I need to do. I'm afraid, but I can't keep living my life by avoiding situations that scare me. "You know what loving me entails?" My body is shaking and I feel nauseous, but as I look at him, I know I'm doing the right thing.

Either way, the answer terrifies me, but he needs to know that this is no fairy tale and there is no happily ever after in my future. Vaeril and Tor have made the choice to stay with me, and they know the risks and consequences of that, probably even better than I do. It's only fair to Grayson that he's given that same opportunity.

"I have no certainties to offer you other than my love in return," I murmur, watching his eyes sparkle with emotion. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but I hold up my hand. "There's a war coming, and I don't know how we are going to survive it. What I do know is that you are all important and will all play a role in helping me complete the task the Great Mother has set for me." I emphasise how all of them have a place beside me. Pausing, I push back a stray lock of hair again, suddenly feeling anxious about how he's going to react. "Is that something you can accept?"

He makes a low noise in the back of his throat that sounds like a laugh as I meet his gaze. "I'm not thrilled about the elf," he tries to joke, smiling at me, but I can hear the tightness in his voice. Realising his jest has fallen flat, he blows out a long breath and takes a step closer, clutching my hand in his. "However, I trust you, and I trust the Great Mother."

Something flares within me at his words, like a huge weight has been lifted from me, and a smile spreads across my face as I look up at him. "I love you." The words are whispered, but you would have thought I shouted them from the astonished look on Grayson's face. It quickly changes to one of joy, and I wish I'd told him sooner. The stress and pain that was etched onto his face falls away, making him look years younger. Surging forward, he scoops me up into his arms, gazing down at me like I'm the most precious thing in the world and he's lucky enough to be in my presence. It's amazing how those three little words have the power to make such a difference.

"I love you," he whispers reverently, before leaning down to kiss me, but I meet him halfway. Our lips connect in a passionate dance as our bodies take over, saying everything words cannot.

I place my hands on his chest, and I feel him shudder under my touch, his skin almost feverish as I skim my fingers over his abs. Grayson rests his hands on my waist, groaning into my mouth, and I gently run my nails down his torso, flicking over his nipples as I trail down to the waistband of his trousers. "Clarissa—" He groans into my mouth again, and I can't stop my grin as I bite down lightly on his lower lip. "Fuck," he curses, his hands tightening on my waist, and I can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against my hip. "I don't want our first time, when we form our connection, to be in a tent," he starts through gritted teeth, like he's trying to convince himself, and I have to fight back a frustrated groan. "It should be special—"

"Grayson." My hands still on the edge of his waistband, and I wait for him to look at me. "You're leaving in the morning, and I don't know if I'll see you again," I murmur, watching as the arousal clears from his eyes as he frowns at my comment.

"Don't say that. We will see each other again," he growls, anger filling his voice. Gripping my arms, he gives me a slight shake, but I can see the fear in his gaze—he's had the same thought.

"Then you can romance me then," I tease, smiling. Shaking his hands from my arms, I cup his face in my palms. "Please, Grayson, don't waste this opportunity." We both know he only found us today because the Mother willed it. He crossed the entire continent to find me, that should have been impossible. There are so many odds stacked against us, so many enemies that are out for my blood, we can't afford to waste any time.

He seems to understand, and he must agree, because he lowers his head to kiss me again, but his kisses are different this time, more urgent, like the king is going to burst into the tent at any moment and drag me away. My desire reignites as his hands skim my body, and I return his kisses with a fiery passion. I grab the hidden clasp of my wrap dress and undo it, letting the fabric drop as it slowly starts to open around my waist. Grayson watches with interest as I take a step back and finish unwrapping the dress, until I'm left with only the final piece across my breasts.

Grayson's eyes light up when he realises I've not been wearing underwear, and with a swagger I didn't know he possessed, he prowls towards me, his cock straining against the fabric of his trousers. I gasp as his hands land on me, his fingers light as they work down my back in massage-like movements, relaxing and completely turning me on at the same time. When one of his hands slides over my hip and between my legs, I feel like I'm about to collapse. I tremble in his arms and he smiles into my mouth as he picks me up and gently lays me down on the bedding. When he doesn't immediately climb on top of me, I look up with a frown and see him watching me with lust-filled eyes.

"Grayson?"

My question spurs him into action as he kneels down and settles himself on the bedding next to me, lying on his side and pulling me close. "You're so beautiful," is his only response before kissing me deeply, his hand sliding down the length of my body once more and finding his way to my core. A low moan escapes him as he discovers how wet I am for him. He strokes small circles against my clit, and my pleasure starts to build as his other hand pushes aside the wrappings on my chest, exposing my breasts. Acutely aware of the fact we're in a tent and the others can easily hear us with their supernatural hearing, I bite down on my lip, trying to hold back the sounds of pleasure that are trying to break free.

Except Grayson seems determined to test my limits. Leaning down, he flicks his tongue out and licks one of my nipples at the same moment he sinks one of his long fingers into my wet heat. A gasp followed by a low groan escapes my lips before I can stop it, then realising what I just did, I throw my hands over my mouth in mortification. My other mates are on the other side… A satisfied male groan responds, along with the unmistakable sound of flesh against flesh, except it's definitely not Grayson…

Tor's tent is next to this one, which means… I should be put off knowing he's listening, that he's getting off on us being intimate, but for some reason, it only turns me on even more.

I'm not sure if Grayson heard and chose to ignore it or didn't hear it at all, but when I push the waistband of his trousers down and wrap my hands around his thick cock, he's soon distracted. Dropping his forehead to mine, he muffles his sounds of pleasure against my lips, his own control being tested as I stroke his length. His thumb makes slow, circling movements around my clit, building up my desire as he leisurely slips another finger inside me. I'm just about to pull away, to beg for mercy and say I can't take it anymore, that I need him inside me, but he suddenly grabs my wrist and stops my caresses on his cock.

"Clarissa." His voice is pained, his eyes heavy with pleasure, and he struggles to put the vortex of emotion of what we're feeling into words.

Smiling, I lean up and press a lingering kiss against his lips. "I know," I reply, because I'm feeling the exact same way, and honestly, that's all that needs to be said. Words aren't what's needed right now, he can tell me exactly how he feels about me with his body and actions. After all, actions speak louder than words.

Without needing direction, I roll onto my back as he leans up and pushes out of his trousers before settling over me. Something flashes across his face, and for a brief moment, I think he's going to stop and ask if I'm sure, but the look of sexual frustration on my face must stop him. In another situation, it would be funny, but right now, my body feels like it's about to combust if he doesn't fuck me soon. Instead, a beautiful smile takes over his face as his eyes take in my flushed skin and rake down my body splayed out before him, like he can't quite believe he's not dreaming. Holding himself above me, he positions his cock at my entrance, using some of my own slick to lubricate the head before pressing in. Hissing at the glorious stretch, I feel his eyes flick up to me as he pauses, thinking he hurt me. There's slight discomfort, but it's quickly overridden by pleasure as my body adjusts to his size. Rocking my body slightly beneath him like a bitch in heat, I urge him on. I'm beyond words at this point, groaning in bliss when he starts to move again, both of us moaning in unison when he reaches the hilt.

Grayson starts to move, and I swear I black out for a second as pleasure envelops me. Raising my arms, I wrap them around his neck, sliding them down his back as I urge him on, meeting his thrusts with my own. Our lips crash together in a tangle of tongues and teeth, but at some point, our frantic moves turn from fucking into something else. Like a baring of souls, and in the moment, I feel like I can see Grayson for who he truly is and the beauty and goodness of his heart. My orgasm is imminent and has been slowly building, and I know—like Grayson's love—it's going to wreck me. Skimming his hand up from my hip, he squeezes my breast before rolling one of my nipples between his fingers, and that's all it takes to push me over the edge.

I was right, the orgasm takes my breath away, my back bowing as pleasure courses through my body. Grayson follows close behind me as I clamp down on his cock, my heat pulsing around him as he finds his own release. The bond instantly snaps between us, sending another wave of pleasure through me, which I know, thanks to the bond, Grayson feels too. He collapses beside me, and we lie in a panting mass of tangled limbs. Wide-eyed, we stare at each other, not needing to say a single word.

I'm overwhelmed and suddenly unable to sort through my emotions. This was such a beautiful evening, and I hate that I've ruined it by feeling this way as I feel tears well in my eyes.

"Clarissa," Grayson murmurs, and as I glance at him, expecting frustration or anger, I only see a gentle smile and open arms. "Come here."

With a grateful smile, I snuggle against my new mate's chest. As soon as I'm in his arms, a wave of comfort falls over me and I feel at peace, like all of my worries can wait until the morning. Like I'm safe and protected, like my mate would cross the continent to find me.