“Watch out!” I scream, running towards the remaining guard who moves his crossbow from the elf to me. I don’t think, I just keep running. An inhuman sound fills the room, and in a flash, Vaeril barrels into the guard, knocking the crossbow away as it fires so the arrow misses me by inches as I drop to the ground, arms up to protect my head. Gurgling makes me look up, and I see that Vaeril has his hand around the guard’s throat, lifting him off the ground as he squeezes.
That’s what the gurgling noise is, I think dumbly, as I try to process what’s happening. The guard is struggling, clawing at the elf’s hand, but it’s useless against his supernatural strength. He’s gaping now, panic entering his eyes as he realises he’s going to die.
“Vaeril,” I call, flinching at how quickly his head turns toward me. In this moment, I’m reminded exactly what he is—with his full power restored, thanks to me. “This is cruel.”
“He tried to kill you,” he counters while staring at me, his body completely still other than the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
“I’m okay,” I assure him, pushing upright so he can see that I tell the truth. “Please.” The words are tight as the reality of what happened tonight hits me.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
A low growling noise emits from his chest and he looks away, only to reach up with his other hand and snap the guard’s neck. Throwing the now limp body to the ground, he turns to face me.
I look around the room and see the bodies of all five guards. The space is a mess, with broken furniture scattered about and arrows lodged into the wall where they tried to fire at Vaeril. Glancing back at him, I see a couple of cuts on his bare chest and arms.
I give in to that tight pull in my chest and move towards him. As if we’re attached, he takes a staggering step closer to me at the same time.
“You’re bleeding.”
“You’ve been crying.”
We speak at the same time, coming to a stop when we are just an arm’s length apart. He looks down at his chest and shrugs as I reach up and wipe at my cheeks.
“We need to leave. Now.” My urgency returns and I glance at the staircase as if guards are going to come streaming down at any moment.
“I know.” He turns away and hurries back inside the room with the forge. Going straight to one of the workbenches, he opens a drawer, and pulls out a bag and a loose white shirt which he pulls on over his head. Reaching across the top, he grabs the hammer and several other tools which he slides into the bag. He picks up the pack, puts it on, and then pulls a cloak from the drawer and wraps it around his shoulders. Jogging back over, he comes to a stop in front of me, his breathing accelerated and eyes alight.
“I’ve been preparing,” he says with a feline grin, baring his teeth in a way that makes him look every inch the predator. “Taking things the guards leave lying around,” he clarifies, before looking me up and down with a frown. “You’re not wearing shoes.”
Glancing down, I see my toes poking out from under the fabric of my dress. “I ran from the banquet with the king. He was going to kill my friend, so I refused to let her eat the chocolate and then ran away. I came straight here,” I blurt out, knowing from his confused look that I’m not explaining myself very well. “We have to go.”
“It’s early spring, you will freeze without any shoes,” he retorts, and looks around the room, hunting for something as he walks up to each guard.
“I’m used to it.” Shrugging, I watch him numbly. I’ve survived the harsh Arhaven winters with nothing more than some rags and an old blanket I managed to steal from the trash.
He turns sombre at the reminder of my past, looking up at me. I expected to see a sympathetic expression, I’m used to being pitied, but instead he appears thoughtful. “Still, we have a long way to go.”
Turning back to his task, he starts removing shoes from one of the guards. “These will probably be a little big for you, but it’s better than nothing.” He tosses the shoes towards