Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

G rabon flew low above the trees, his senses alert, but he saw no sign of any unusual activity. Two days had passed since he'd disposed of the guards' bodies but there still hadn't been a reaction from the stronghold. Had their commander simply accepted their loss? If one of his males had disappeared he would have sought them relentlessly but the nothing about these Farlain suggested the same level of loyalty and discipline.

No doubt they had taken their tone from Lord Dekell - a bad leader created poor followers. He did another quick circuit, then returned to the village, his chest aching at the sight of Vera in the middle of things as usual. Her fiery red hair glinted in the sunlight as she moved from group to group, her voice clear and confident as she answered questions and made suggestions.

"We still need to fortify the eastern approach," she was saying as he landed, pointing to a crude map drawn in the dirt. She looked up and smiled as he moved to her side. "Can you help with moving some of the larger logs, please?"

He nodded, moving to assist without hesitation. His muscles flexed as he hefted a massive log into place, and he caught her looking at him, her eyes heated. An answering wave of heat surged through his body, but he shook it off, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

She and Maeve had divided the villagers into teams, each with specific responsibilities. Some were preparing defenses, others gathering supplies, and a few were tasked with scouting the surrounding area. Most of their preparation were complete but she refused to relax.

"You're doing well," he murmured to her during a brief moment alone. "They trust you."

Her eyes met his, dark and vulnerable.

"I just hope it's enough," she whispered back.

He longed to pull her into his arms, to reassure her that everything would be all right, but this wasn't the time. Instead he put his hand on her shoulder, feeling her lean into his touch for just a moment before she straightened up and returned to her duties.

By evening they had completed almost everything she'd planned, and she finally allowed herself to be persuaded to take a break. She smiled wanly at him as she accepted the plate he brought her, digging in with gusto, but her eyes remained troubled.

"I'm so tired," she sighed, leaning against him.

"It will all be fine," he reassured her, trying to make his voice as convincing as he could.

"What if it's not? What if I fail them?"

"You won't," he said firmly. "Everything you've done here proves that."

"It's not just that. I can't help thinking it's my fault."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because my arrival triggered everything."

"Sweetheart, you didn't ask to be abducted, nor attacked. You can't seriously think that's your fault?"

"Perhaps not," she admitted. "But I chose to come to the village with Lior. And no matter what you think of the prophecy, they believe it. I'm not sure they would have tried to break free if I hadn't arrived."

"And don't they deserve that? Deserve to be free?"

"I suppose so." She chewed on her lip, clearly not convinced. "I'm also worried that we haven't heard from Lior."

The Elvar female had visited them twice since Vera had arrived in the village, filling them in on what she knew about what was happening in the stronghold - which unfortunately was very little - but she hadn't been to the village since the incident with the guards.

"If they've increased security, she may not have been able to get away," he said reassuringly. "I'm sure she wouldn't take any chances."

"You're probably right. I'm just … worried."

"Is there anyone you aren't worried about?"

His teasing remark actually brought a small smile to her face.

"You," she said promptly. "You always seem to know what to do."

"Not always."

"You certainly know what to do when we're alone at night."

She ran a teasing hand over his cock, smiling when his shaft immediately responded to her touch.

"I thought you were tired," he said hoarsely.

"Mmm, but maybe I need something to help me sleep. Do you know what to do?"

"Definitely," he growled as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, striding towards their hut as she giggled and the Elvar gave them amused looks.

They wouldn't have blinked an eye if he taken her right there by the fire but he had no desire to share his mate's beauty with anyone.

A very long time later, he pulled her closer, relishing the warmth of her skin against his. He traced lazy patterns on her back, marveling at how perfectly she fit in his arms.

"You know," she said sleepily, "for such a big, tough warrior, you're surprisingly cuddly."

He laughed.

"Don't let that get out. I have a reputation to maintain."

She propped herself up on an elbow, her red hair cascading over her shoulder. "Oh? And what would the other warriors say if they knew the fearsome Grabon liked to be the little spoon?"

He growled playfully, flipping her onto her back and hovering over her. "I'll show you who's the little spoon."

Their laughter mingled as they wrestled playfully, ending with her pinned beneath him, both of them breathless and grinning. His smile faded as he studied her smiling face. She was everything he'd ever wanted in a mate—someone who could match his strength with her own brand of power. He had expected a mating to be passionate and he'd hoped for tenderness, but he hadn't expected laughter. He hadn't expected to be filled with such contentment.

"What is it?" she asked softly, her eyes warm and dark in the soft lamp light.

"I love you."

The words spilled from him, completely unplanned, and he suddenly wondered if she would accept them. She'd been reticent about their mating, unwilling to use the term "mate," and he'd told himself that it wasn't necessary, that his devotion was unmistakable. Now, as her eyes widened, he feared that he had been wrong.

"Please … I did not mean to frighten you. I -"

She put a finger on his lips, cutting off his apologies.

"Say it again. Please."

"I love you, Vera. My fierce, brave, amazing female."

Tears welled in her eyes and his heart ached at the sight. Had he misjudged her? He started to pull away, to apologize again, when a soft sob escaped her.

"I … I love you too, Grabon. I fought so hard not to, but …"

The tears slid down her cheeks, dampening the pillow and he couldn't bear it. He gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly against him, his heart threatening to burst with joy.

"Then fight no more," he whispered. "Let me protect you, Vera, not from the outside, but from yourself and your doubts."

He kissed her, pouring all his love, all his certainty into it, and she responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around him as if she could never let him go.

"Take me," she breathed.

"Always," he vowed.

He slid his cock inside her, still amazed at how perfectly she fitted him. She moaned and arched against him, her hands grasping his arms as he began to thrust. Her nails dug into his skin as he sped up, his mouth covering hers and swallowing her cries of pleasure. He didn't know how long he could hold on, the sweet contraction of her inner muscles almost pushing him over the edge, but he gritted his teeth and focused on bringing her to completion first.

"Grabon, please," she gasped against his mouth, her hips lifting to meet his every thrust. "I need to come."

"Come for me, my mate," he growled, and the command was all it took for her body to seize.

She cried out her release, the sound triggering his own. He shuddered over her, his cock spurting again and again as his rings expanded until they collapsed in a panting heap. He rolled to his side, dragging her with him, his arms still locked around her, and wrapped his wings around her as well. He wasn't sure if it was just wishful thinking, but it felt as if she clung to him just as desperately.

Despite his happiness, he couldn't sleep, watching her peaceful face as she slept in his arms. He turned out the light but the moonlight filtering through the window cast a gentle glow over her features. He longed to reach out and trace the curve of her cheek, but he held back, not wanting to disturb her slumber.

The Farlain ship's impending arrival weighed heavily on him, a constant presence in the back of his thoughts. He knew he should have told her already, but each time he'd tried, the words had caught in his throat.

He shifted slightly, careful not to wake her. The warmth of her body against his was a comfort, but it also intensified his inner turmoil. He'd never felt so conflicted, so indecisive, in his life. On one hand, he wanted to protect her from worry, to preserve the happiness they'd found together. On the other, he knew that keeping this information from her was a betrayal of the trust they'd built.

He clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling up inside him. A cloud passed over the moon and the resulting darkness seemed to press in on him, matching the heaviness in his chest. He was a warrior, accustomed to facing challenges head-on, yet here he was, paralyzed by indecision.

She stirred in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent, and he froze, holding his breath until she settled back into stillness. The thought of losing her trust, of seeing disappointment in her eyes, was almost unbearable, but he couldn't wait any longer. He would tell her in the morning, he decided, and face the consequences. He could only hope that she loved him enough to understand.

He spent so much of the night worrying that when he finally fell into a restless slumber he ended up oversleeping. When he woke she was gone, just as in his nightmares. The bed was cold, her scent faded, and he scrambled out of bed, throwing on his leathers as he hurried outside.

Panic raced through him, until he spotted her, picking berries from one of the bushes the Elvar cultivated and laughing at something her companion said. Relief washed over him, and he took a deep breath as he approached. She smiled up at him, the warmth in her eyes making his chest ache.

"Hello, sleepyhead. I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day …" Her teasing smile vanished as she studied his face, then she rose and pulled him to one side. "What is it?"

In spite of his decision to tell her the truth, the words stuck in his throat.

"Is something wrong?"

He finally managed to nod, his throat dry.

"There's something I have to tell you-"

A hoarse cry interrupted him as one of the few Elvar who could fly landed in the center of the village.

"They sent for reinforcements," the male gasped. "A Farlain ship is approaching."

Questions and cries of dismay met the announcement, wings fluttering rapidly, but Vera had frozen next to him. He was almost afraid to look down at her and his fears were justified. Her face had turned completely white, her eyes burning with hurt and anger.

"Did you know about this?" she demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel.

His throat tightened, the words he'd rehearsed in his mind countless times suddenly eluding him.

"I was going to tell you—" he began, his voice heavy with regret.

But she cut him off, her words slicing through his explanation.

"You've betrayed us. How could you?"

The accusation hit him like a physical blow. He reached out instinctively, wanting to comfort her, to explain, but she recoiled from his touch. The rejection stung more than any wound he'd ever received in battle.

His wings drooped, his entire body seeming to shrink under the weight of her disappointment. He'd faced countless enemies, endured brutal battles, but nothing had prepared him for the pain of seeing her shattered face.

"Please let me explain," he pleaded, his voice rough with emotion. "It's not what you think. I'm here as an emissary for the king?—"

She backed away from him, her voice low and horrified.

"The king?"

"The new king," he said quickly, but she wasn't listening. "Vera, please. It's not?—"

"I don't care!"

She spun around and stalked away, and his heart seemed to shatter in his chest. He started after her, ignoring the shocked look on the Elvar's faces, but Maeve stepped in front of him. She wasn't even half his size but her presence held enough power to stop him in his tracks.

"No," she said, her voice filled with quiet sadness. "You no longer belong here."

"I need to talk to her?—"

"No. Leave."

For a terrible moment he was once again a helpless teenager, ordered to abandon everything he'd known and cared about. But he wasn't a boy anymore. He straightened up, his shoulders squared, his fists clenched at his sides.

"No. I'm not abandoning her, or you."

Her expression didn't soften as she studied him.

"Then you'd better come up with a way to make things right. But not here. Not now."

He wanted to insist on staying, on trying to explain, but perhaps Maeve was right. In order to make things right, he needed to enlist the aid of the ship. He gave an abrupt nod, then launched himself into the air, each beat of his wings carrying him further from her. The wind whipped past him, its chill biting into his skin, but he barely noticed. The look on her face was still etched into his mind.

As he soared towards the coastline, the vast expanse of the ocean came into view. The Farlain ship loomed on the horizon, its sails billowing in the wind. He had to focus, to determine how to use the ship and crew most effectively, but the fear that he might have lost her forever gnawed at his core.

With each wingbeat, he felt as though he were leaving a piece of his heart further behind, but he was determined to protect her. He would do whatever it took to keep his promise and help her fulfill the prophecy.