Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,87
to change in him, even though his expression stays the same, but he just appears to…wake up, like a light has been lit inside him. I know I’m not the only one to notice, and I can’t help but smile, especially when that smile is tentatively mirrored on his face. “It’s still new, and it’s still growing, and we will have fights and arguments, but I’m not going to abandon him,” I continue, turning back to Naril, who’s now watching his brother with an odd expression. “I know you love your brother, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Finally, Naril looks back at me. I hold his piercing gaze, unsure what he’s looking for, and I don’t know what he sees in my eyes, but after a while, he sighs and nods. His attention moves to Tor and then Vaeril. “And you’re okay with this?”
There’s a pause, and I hold my breath as Vaeril thinks over the question. I need to know the answer just as much as Naril. “If it was anyone else, I would fight this harder, but I know Eldrin, he’s practically a brother to me. I want him to be happy,” Vaeril finally answers, a rueful smile slowly appearing on his face. “It will take some adjustment, since sharing is not in an elf’s nature, but yes.”
Naril doesn’t say anything in response to his friend, simply nodding and turning to his brother. The two of them share a look, not saying anything for some time. Finally, Naril blows out a breath and shakes his head. “This is what you want?” he inquires, his tone resigned, like he already knows the answer. “You will have to share her with a magician, she will never be wholly yours.”
“She is who I want, brother,” Eldrin confirms without a trace of doubt.
Naril grabs his twin’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly as they share another long stare with each other. The two of them have always seemed so different to me, and I never thought they were that close, but I realise now that they still share a bond no matter their differences in personality. A different type of bond than what I have with my mates, one forged through blood.
Feeling like I’m intruding on their moment, I shift in my seat, but a hand reaches out and stops me from moving away. My head jerks up—Naril. Both of the elves on either side of him are snarling, their eyes locked on his hand around my wrist, so he quickly lets go.
“Brother,” Eldrin growls, his voice so low, it’s difficult to make out the words. “I love you, but if you ever touch Clarissa like that again, I will rip your arm off.”
Naril shoots Eldrin a look, one eyebrow arched, but he nods, raising both hands in a gesture of peace. He doesn’t need to touch me again, he’s got my attention now which is what he wanted. He turns his intense gaze on me. “I pray that you keep your promise, for the sake of my brother.”
I meet his stare and hold steady under his scrutiny. “I will. I swear on the Mother.” I mean every word of it, I think, hoping he can feel my intentions.
He must be able to, because after a moment of silence, he nods, and reassured, he sits back in his seat. Sighing, he stretches his arms above his head, and it’s like nothing just happened, the atmosphere changing in seconds. “Good. I never thought I’d say this, but let’s get this nightmare over with so we can go back to the mountains.”
He’s right, I want to get back to the camp as soon as possible. Looking out the window at the changing scenery, my stomach twists. I try to convince myself it’s from the stress of the conversation we just had, and not the fact that I’m convinced we’re walking into a trap. I just have to hope we’re all strong enough to get out of this alive.
“I’ve never seen a human city before,” Naril comments, his upper lip curled as the smell of the slums greets us. “It seems I haven’t been missing out on anything.”
We’ve been travelling for hours and have just reached the outer reaches of the city. Leaning against the wall of the carriage, I view the looming shadow of the city from the window. Built from the black stone of the cliffs, even on the brightest of days, the city still looks dull and lifeless, but there’s a darkness that hovers over