Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,63

Once they’ve moved on, she steps in closer. “Are we under attack?”

Another wave of magic hits me. It’s searching, probing, and it makes my back arch. I know this magic, and it recognises me. I’m overwhelmed by the feeling, my voice taken away temporarily. My mates step closer, and Eldrin growls as he looks around for the invisible threat.

“Care to tell us what’s going on, chosen one?” Naril bites out, his back to me as he mimics Eldrin’s protective stance.

The clearing is mostly empty now, save for us and High Chief Revna. Everyone returned to their tents and the fae to the forest. All except Stix, who is still merrily sitting on my shoulder. “Magic man has returned,” he says in a singsong voice, his legs swinging happily.

Hearing him say it out loud breaks me out of my trance, my heart thundering with joy in my chest. “Grayson.”

I step forward, only to be jerked to a stop. Glancing at the hand on my arm with a frown, I turn to scowl at Vaeril. His grip isn’t tight, but he also isn’t letting go.

“Clarissa, Alina,” he starts, his eyes wary as he scans the forest behind me. He’s unable to feel the magic himself, only the second-hand reverberation through the bond. “This could be a trap.”

“He’s right, you can’t just go running off into the forest,” Naril chimes in with a disapproving scowl.

Stepping back, I shake off Vaeril’s hand, not quite believing that they’re trying to stop me from going to Grayson. I know how to look after myself, and I know Grayson’s magic. He’s calling to me. For whatever reason, he needs me to go to him. The bond between us has been strained for so long, and now I have the chance to go to him. I’m not going to let them keep me from my mage. I’m sure Vaeril can feel all of this down the bond, his brow furrowed as he watches me.

“Can someone explain what’s going on?” my aunt demands, looking between us, her frustration evident on her face. She’s just evacuated the area in preparation for a potential attack based purely on the fact that I sensed something different, so I don’t blame her for wanting to be updated.

“Grayson, my third mate is here,” I inform her, ignoring Eldrin’s low growl and the taut expressions on the elves’ faces at his name. “He’s in the forest, I need to go to him.” The explanation is brief, but the need to reach him is making me twitchy.

“Why isn’t he coming to you?” Suspicion lines her eyes as she takes in the tension of the elves surrounding me.

“He’s a magician,” I clarify, looking over at Eldrin, who’s practically vibrating with anger. He’s the only one who’s not met Grayson yet, and I’m sure it’s going to be explosive when they finally do, if this is any indication. “The elves and the magicians don’t exactly get on.” We both know this is a huge understatement, but she hums in agreement as she looks at the elves again, her eyes landing on Eldrin.

“You’re sure it’s him? His magic can’t be mimicked?”

Her question is an interesting one, one I’ve not thought of before. Can magic be mimicked? I play the thought over in my mind as another wave of his magic reaches me. It’s gentle this time, like a finger trailing down my spine. It’s intimate and loving and all Grayson. The bond in my chest thumps. Magic may be able to be mimicked, but you can’t mimic our bond. Unbidden, a smile spreads across my face and I nod, making Eldrin growl and stalk away before he slams a fist into the nearest tree. Ignoring him, Revna turns to the other elves with a shrug and raised eyebrows. “Then you can’t keep her from him.”

“No,” Eldrin barks, stalking back towards me. When he’s angry like this, he seems huge, his golden eyes almost glowing as his face twists, his scar making him look savage, but I don’t back away, that’s exactly what he wants. I hold my ground and show that I’m not afraid of him, until he reaches me and we’re standing toe-to-toe.

“Eldrin…” Naril steps closer, but I hold out a hand to stop him, not taking my eyes off his raging brother. Vaeril is nearby, he wants to step in, but he knows I can handle his friend in a way he’s never been able to understand.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I raise an eyebrow as