of someone slamming into something hard.
“Get out of my way,” a low voice orders, and Kaelir must do as he’s told as the angry steps start up again.
Whoever this person is, they have a lot of rage, and I’m pretty sure they’re heading towards my cell. Putting down my porridge with a sigh, I stand up and brush down my skirts as I take a couple of steps forward.
Someone appears at my cell door, and for a second, I just blink. He’s beautiful, but every part of him is practically vibrating with fury. All of the elves are tall, but he seems even taller, and his shoulders, chest, and arms are thick and muscled. He’s bronzed, and his golden hair falls to his shoulders. It’s not braided like Vaeril likes to wear his, but more like a mane of untamed, wavy locks. His eyes are the same golden colour as his hair, and he reminds me of a picture I once saw of a lion. He’s beautiful, but he looks brutal and cruel as his expression twists, a long scar slicing from his forehead to chin on the right side of his face. Whatever happened, he’s lucky that it missed his eye.
He narrows his golden gaze on me, running it over me from head to toe.
“You,” he growls, strolling up to the bars that separate us. “You’re the human who saved Vaeril? His Alina?”
My heart thuds in my chest. No one else knows that Vaeril calls me Alina, meaning he must be awake. I want to rush up to the bars and demand to know how he is, but this asshole would be expecting something like that, and I fully doubt he would tell me anything anyway. I can see that I’m going to have to get used to people using my race as a slur. Anger awakens in me, and I saunter up to the bars, close enough that if he wanted to, he could reach through and snap my neck, but I don’t think that’s why he’s here.
“Clarissa,” Kaelir calls, but I hold up my hand and shake my head. I need to deal with this myself, since this won’t be the last elf to challenge me like this.
“I’m okay, Kaelir,” I assure him with a smile before returning my attention to the elf still scowling at me. “Was that a question or a statement?”
“I see you’ve got someone else wrapped around your little finger. How did you do it?” he growls, looking me up and down again, making me feel naked, but I simply cross my arms and watch him right back. “Did you fuck him, Alina?” Anger stirs within me at his words, but I know that’s exactly what he wants. I’m not sure where the blushing Clarissa has gone. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?” he purrs, his hands tightening on the bars.
“No, thanks, I’d prefer to stare at the wall,” I reply dryly.
“What, not pretty enough for you, is it my scar?” he coos, like he was expecting the rejection, but I see a flash of vulnerability in his eyes at the mention of his scar.
“Your scar is the only real thing about you,” I retort, meaning every word of it. His scar doesn’t bother me, but his attitude does. “No, I find arrogance ugly, it doesn’t suit you.”
“How?” he suddenly questions, his whole demeanour changing in a second, giving me whiplash as he flips from flirtatious to demanding.
“How what?” I ask, confused. I don’t think he’s still talking about his looks... No, this is about something else.
“How did you help him escape?” He slams his hands against the bars, and I have to fight against the urge to jump back, to put some distance between myself and this feral creature. “We’ve been searching for him for a hundred years. Then out of the blue, a tiny human woman turns up on our lands with one of our strongest warriors,” he snarls, before breaking away from the bars and pacing the small space in front of my cell. “We thought he was dead.” I can hear the pain in his voice, and I realise he must be a friend of Vaeril’s.
“It’s not my place to say,” I respond quietly, but this must not be the answer he wants as he spins around and locks his eyes on me, striding up to the cell again.
“Tell me,” he growls, and any sympathy I had for him disappears in an instant.
Narrowing my eyes on him,