Fires of Ruin (War and Deceit #3) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,1
to push him away, but he doesn’t.
“Eldrin!” I call, and something seems to change, like my voice snaps him out of his trance. His shoulders droop, and he releases Tor. He doesn’t move, his eyes still narrowed and fastened on the tribesman, but the violence has left his body.
“Come, brother, now is not the time for this.” Naril switches to the common tongue, his eyes flicking to mine over his twin’s shoulder.
“You know him?” Eldrin inquires. He’s still looking at Tor, but it’s obvious the question isn’t directed at him. I’m about to answer, but I’m beaten to it.
“I know him, he’s a…friend of Clarissa’s,” Vaeril confirms, stepping closer and meeting his friend’s gaze. It’s obvious he’s not pleased about Tor’s presence, but he also knows how upset I would be if Tor was to get hurt because he didn’t step in. Besides, he—we—owe Tor. If he hadn’t caused a distraction at the castle, we never would have escaped Arhaven. “She’s safe,” Vaeril states, but this seems to be the wrong thing to say.
As he pushes away from Tor and the two elves, I notice the anger in Eldrin’s expression as he turns to face me. “I didn’t ask if she was safe.”
The words are like a slap to the face, and no matter how much I try to control my reaction, I know he’s seen something in my expression. Anger and frustration burn within me. Why do his words wound me? I barely know the male, and he’s been nothing but rude to me since I arrived. I don’t get upset when Naril says something like that, in fact I would expect it from him, so what is it about the scarred warrior that winds me up so much?
“Eldrin,” Vaeril calls, stepping closer to me and placing a hand on my shoulder, obviously feeling my pain through the bond. “You should go now, we are fine here.”
Eldrin’s gaze is locked on Vaeril’s hand where it is touching my shoulder, and he wears a complicated look on his face. When he raises his eyes to meet mine, he pauses for a couple of seconds, and I get the feeling he’s waiting for me to say something. When I don’t, his expression shuts down and a blank mask settles over his features. Taking a step back, he turns suddenly and storms from the room, his twin following closely behind him.
“I’ll return for you later, Ambassador Torsten,” Naril announces, pulling the door shut behind him, wisely knowing we’ll need privacy for this conversation.
The room is blessedly silent. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the weird mood Eldrin has put me in. Thankfully the heavy tension that settled over us all left with him. I can feel their expectant eyes on me, but I use the quiet to my own advantage. The last couple of days have been busy with a lot of revelations and unexpected events, one of which is standing just before me.
Letting out my pent-up breath, I open my eyes and look at the two of them. Vaeril appears tense but dignified, his back straight and face arranged in that carefully neutral mask the elves seem to favour. Tor, on the other hand, is the opposite. His smile widens as I look over at him, his eyes lighting up, and I can feel a small grin appearing on my face. His happiness is infectious. But despite his cheerful demeanour, exhaustion lines his features, and I can tell by the way he’s standing that he’s in pain.
“Let’s go sit down, then you can tell me everything,” I suggest, leading the way into the sitting room at his eager nod. As I pass Vaeril, I brush my hand across his with a questioning look on my face, silently asking if he’s going to stay and hear Tor’s story. Nodding once, he follows behind me, although he doesn’t look happy about it.
When we reach the comfortable sitting room, I sit in my favourite armchair opposite the huge window that overlooks the best view in the palace. Tor takes up residence on the large couch, settling in the end closest to me as he looks around the room with a raised eyebrow.
“Very nice,” he murmurs quietly. I don’t think he meant for anyone to hear it as he runs his hands over the soft fabric of the couch. Vaeril enters the room, but instead of sitting, he just leans against one of the walls opposite Tor, crossing his