The queen hasn’t done anything to physically hurt me, but that one look spoke volumes—she wishes me dead.
Vaeril stays silent at my side, his expression somber as he waits for me to work my way through my panic, obviously experiencing some of my feelings through the bond.
“Is she okay?” I hear Saril ask gently, concerned for me.
Naril steps closer, and between them, they’re able to block me off from the curious glances of the elves around us while I have my freak out. “Clarissa’s life has been…” Naril pauses, and my eyes flick up to glare at him, promising him violence if he tells my story without my permission. “Challenging,” he finishes, wisely choosing not to divulge my history.
“Clarissa,” Vaeril calls gently. “Alina,” he calls again, using his elvish nickname for me. I recently discovered it means ‘saviour.’ I’d been uncomfortable when he first started calling me this, but I’m used to hearing him say it now and the name feels like mine when it’s him who says it.
Taking a deep, calming breath, I look up and meet his concerned eyes. When I glance around at my companions, I see they’re all watching me with varying levels of concern, even Naril, although that’s probably because he doesn’t want me to make a scene rather than him actually caring for me.
“I’m okay,” I say to the group with a soft smile, wishing that speaking the words out loud would make them come true. Turning to Saril, I give her a rueful smile, bowing my head slightly. After all, she’s one of the elders and a close friend of Vaeril’s, so I want to make a good impression. Having a panic attack in front of everyone was not part of the plan. “Sorry for making you worry.”
A gentle hand lands on my shoulder, and I manage not to flinch this time, looking up at the kind elf before me. “That’s not a problem, child.” Her face is much more expressive than the other elves I’ve met, but even if her face has remained completely stoic, I can tell from her warm voice that she means what she says.
I can see why Vaeril likes these two, I think as she steps back into her partner’s arms, his face showing complete adoration. The love they exude for one another is so strong that I have to look away, rubbing at the spot in my chest where my bonds reside. Of course, Vaeril sees this and steps closer to me with a question on his face. Shaking my head slightly, I let him know I don’t want to talk about it, but I draw comfort from his hand on my lower back.
We have to be careful we don’t draw too much attention. Vaeril previously explained that we don’t want the queen to know about the bond until we’ve sealed it. He didn’t say as much, but I got the impression they worried what the queen would do if she discovered it, that she might try and stop us from completing the bond. Thinking back to before Tor arrived and how close Vaeril and I came to sealing the bond makes me flush. Overwhelmed and fuelled by desire, I hadn’t been thinking straight. Now that I know the implications, I’m glad we were interrupted. Vaeril believes it would be safer if we seal the bond, but he doesn’t want to rush me and prefers the decision be wholly mine—not because my desire overtakes me or it’s my only option.
I also don’t think he’s ready for it. One moment, he can’t stop touching me, and the next, he returns to his cool elf façade, which I know is just a mask because I’ve seen the real Vaeril. We both need to make the decision to seal the bond for the right reason—because we want to.
In addition to our undefined relationship, we have another problem—he doesn’t know that I have a connection with Tor and Grayson as well. I haven’t found a way to tell him yet. He’s not stupid, he’s lived for centuries, and I’m sure he’s worked out that there’s something between Tor and me, but nothing’s been said about the magician. Before I do anything, I need to do more research and find out if it’s possible to be bound to more than one person. I’m being pulled in three different directions, and I’m not ready to choose.
Gentle music starts up in the hall, and couples float into the center of the room to dance.