Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,52
much, I would look at the edge of a cliff and think about throwing myself off or jumping in front of a carriage.”
A deep sadness settles over me, and as I rub my chest to ease the discomfort, it takes me a few moments to realise the feeling is not my own. I don’t want to look up, but I can’t ignore the pain of my mates any more than I could ignore an arrow in my leg. My attention is drawn to Tor as he mourns for the loss of my childhood and innocence. His anguish is palpable, so is his despair that he wasn’t able to find and rescue me until I had already experienced these things. He wishes he could erase my painful past.
A tug in my chest pulls my gaze to Vaeril next, and perhaps I shouldn’t be, but I’m surprised at what I see there—understanding. Suddenly, I’m transported to the underground forge as I remember the first time I met him.
The pounding of the hammer on the anvil rings in my ears, and I watch, transfixed by his movements. I should be scared, but I’m filled with a mixture of awe and hate. It’s a strange combination, but I can’t pull my gaze away from him. His skin is pale like mine and his back is covered in scars. This man has experienced pain, you can tell from the scars that weave a story on his flesh and by the way he stands. He’s tall, and although muscular, he’s also slim in build through years of hard labour.
The memory hits me hard, my heart pounding against my chest, and I know he’s experiencing a similar reaction from his blown pupils and clenched fists. Vaeril is very good at hiding his emotions, so to be displaying his sentiments like this tells me all I need to know. I don’t need the bond to recognise he’s experienced similar feelings himself and lived with the guilt afterward.
“You look for any way to just stop the endless pain and humiliation.” Eldrin’s voice is low and gruff. Breaking my gaze with Vaeril, I look over at the scarred elf, my heart cracking a little at the expression on his face. Naril stiffens next to him, anger clouding his usually smirking features, his hands clenched into fists. In a movement that’s too fast for my eyes to track, he’s standing. Without a word or backwards glance at his brother, Naril storms off into the darkness. Confusion muddles my thoughts, but they soon turn back to Eldrin and his pain-filled words. There was truth in his admission, and the idea that Eldrin’s torture became so bad he considered suicide, that Vaeril contemplated it to end his torment… No wonder they hate humans so much, it’s a miracle they let me anywhere near them.
My eyes meet Eldrin’s, and I realise he’s done this for me. We may not share a metaphysical bond, but he sensed that I needed to be comforted, and he shared something to let me know I wasn’t alone. From the surprise that’s emanating from the bond and the look he’s giving the elf, this is the first time Vaeril has heard Eldrin speak like this as well.
There’s a cough next to me, and I remember Speaker Hawthorn is here. My guilt suddenly returns with full force, making me feel sick as I wait for his condemnation. After all, suicide is one of the greatest sins you can commit under the Great Mother’s rule. He doesn’t immediately say anything, and I stare into the fire, unable to look at him. I don’t think I could cope with seeing the disappointment in his eyes.
“Do you think poorly of me?” The fire crackles and pops before me, and I can feel my mates’ frustration at the other end of our bonds. They don’t believe I have anything to be sorry or ashamed for, but they keep their opinions to themselves.
There’s a pause, and I can almost feel the speaker’s frown of disapproval at my question, although I’m still too scared to look away from the dancing flames. “Why would I think poorly of you, beloved?”
His question is careful, but I hear his confusion. “Because I thought about giving up.” If I expected hellfire to rain down on me at my admission, or the Mother to appear and strike me down, then I was to be disappointed.
Over the glow of the fire, my eyes meet with Tor’s. He’s watching me with a dark