to demand he shares what he knows, he holds up his hand to halt my questions. “I need to speak with my people to be sure. We have huge libraries that are full of knowledge…We might even find out what makes you different.”
He’s dangling it like a carrot for a donkey, trying to convince me this is the best plan, but I don’t understand why this is so important to him.
“Why?” I press, pushing up so I’m standing. He does the same, and I close the gap between us, glaring up at him with my hands balled into fists. I don’t know why I’m so angry at him all of a sudden, but his answer seems really important.
“Why what?”
“Why do you want me to go with you?” I want to grab his shirt and shake him, make him see sense.
“What are your other options? If you don’t come with me, where will you go?”
I hadn’t expected him to turn the questions around on me, and I scramble for an answer, but I only have one thought going through my head. Is that the only reason he’s inviting me? Because he feels guilty and he pities me?
“I…I could try and find Grayson, he would help me.” I know for sure Grayson would help me, hide me, but do I want to bring him into all this? Make him betray his country to help me? Besides, how would I find him? I have no idea where he and the other high magicians went, not to mention I’ve never left Arhaven or the farm I once worked on, I don’t know our country at all.
As if he can read my mind, he just shakes his head, shooting down my idea immediately. “You would never make it to him on your own.”
“I could go to one of the cities and make a new life for myself there.” As soon as I say it, I know it’s not a viable option. But when Vaeril immediately shakes his head, my anger flares up again.
“You have no money, no family or friends, you would never make it.”
I growl, my anger getting the better of me as I throw my hands in the air in frustration, taking a step closer so our chests are almost touching.
“Fine, say I go with you, follow you to your home, what then?” I demand, his eyes darkening with something I don’t recognise, but I don’t stop. “The elves are going to accept me with open arms? Even if they did, what then? Where would I live, or work?” My voice gets louder as I speak, getting more and more frustrated. “You will go back to your life and your family, while I have nothing.”
I’m not really angry at him, but at what he has, his possibilities, all the things I don’t have. His face softens and he raises a hand to my face, catching a tear on my cheek. I hadn’t even realised I was crying. I angrily swipe my tears away, not wanting to look weak in front of him. Frowning, he catches my hands.
“Clarissa.” I ignore him, pulling my hands away and trying to take a step back, put some space between us. I hate that face, the pitying look he gives me. “Alina.” I freeze. He called me that before, when I first managed to break the spell on his cuff. The word has power, and as before, I feel it settle over me. He told me in his culture Alina means ‘my salvation.’ Why does the name feel right? I already have a name, Clarissa, given to me by my friend, one of the only things I have left from Grayson. I don’t need another one, yet that slumbering part of me seems to wake.
“Why do you call me that?” My voice is deceptively calm.
“Names have power in my culture, and some people are blessed with their true name. This came to me that night, and as soon as I spoke it, I knew it was your true name.” He closes the gap between us again and I have to crane my neck to look up at him, our bodies so close I can feel the heat coming off him. “It’s fitting,” he murmurs in a low voice, and arousal starts to build within me.
Not the right time, body, I scold myself, ignoring the sensation. He’s just being nice, comforting me. Convincing myself that he doesn’t have any romantic feelings for me is easy, and I open my