the crowd, and several from the chiefs, turn to me with reverence in their expressions. Suddenly, I get the feeling Tor left out a lot when he was telling me the story of the lost child.
The painted chief, Ragnar, turns his attention back to the high chief. “Do you have any proof?”
Revna’s eyes go cold as she stares down at him, taking a threatening step forward, and I’m suddenly reminded there’s a reason she was elected high chief. “Do you doubt me, Ragnar?” All around us, I see hands go to weapons at their waists, waiting on the word from their chief and the painted man would be cut down before he could even blink. However, even in the short time I’ve known my aunt, I understand that’s not how she wants to lead.
“Ragnar,” the tall chief speaks again with a frown, his expression making it clear he doesn’t approve of the man’s behaviour. “You never met the girl as a child. There were signs, even then.” He turns to face me now, and something kind shines in his eyes. “The goddess favoured her.” Although I have no memories of ever meeting this man, I have the strangest feeling— the same I had when I met my aunt for the first time—that somehow, I knew him.
“Erik is right,” Tor agrees, releasing my shoulder and stepping up to my side so we are arm to arm, facing the chiefs together. “This is her. I knew it as soon as I saw her.” He glances at me, and there’s a look in his eyes like he’s asking for permission. Am I ready for everybody to know? We weren’t going to announce to everyone about our connection just yet, not while all of the tribes were here and they were still getting used to the idea of me having an elf for a mate. We weren’t quite sure how they would take me having several mates. It doesn’t take me long to come to a conclusion, but seeing him here surrounded by his people, I know how much it would mean to him for me to accept him as my mate.
Nodding my head, I return his smile as it spreads across his face. It’s impossible not to, his happiness is infectious. Returning his attention to the chiefs, he tries to make his expression more formal, but he struggles to contain his smile completely, which pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Ematus formed between us. It is fated.”
Ragnar growls low in his throat as he takes a menacing step towards me, but that’s all it is. He’s not going to hurt me, this is all about intimidation. My friends, however, don’t appreciate this. A rush of wind and the flutter of the feathers in my hair is what alerts me to the elves’ presence. Glancing to my left, I see a scowling Vaeril, and beyond him is a crouching Eldrin, who is growling.
He came. Pushing the frenzied thought aside, I notice that on his other side is a very bored-looking Naril, but I can see from his stance that he’s ready to move in a second’s notice and is keeping a close eye on his feral twin. Tentatively reaching out for our bond, I’m relieved to find that although angry, Vaeril is fully in control right now. The last thing we need is for a fight to break out between the elves and the tribespeople.
“Look, at the first sign of trouble her elves jump in to save her,” Ragnar shouts with disdain, gesturing at us again, his other hand tightly gripping the handle of his hammer which I know he’s eager to use. “She knows nothing of our ways!”
“That can be taught,” a familiar voice calls from the crowd. Turning, I see Vida stepping forward, and a couple of her fellow stone keepers whom she had been standing with nod in agreement. “She knows the ways of the goddess.” As one of those who dedicates her life to the care of the sacred meeting place, people trust her words and look to her like they would a priest back in Arhaven. I would put far more faith in Vida than I would in the corrupt human priests, however, and I’ve only known her less than two weeks.
Somehow, I need to convince them that I belong here. Tor and Revna thought blood and history alone would be enough, but I know action and strength is what these people value. Looking inside myself, although I