thrown me off. I groan as he pulls me closer to him, kissing me deeply. He’s much deeper in this position, and with us pressed together like this, it’s far more intimate. Staring into my eyes, he uses my hips to guide my motions. I bounce up and down on his cock, and together, we move, our gasps and sounds of pleasure loud in the small tent.
My orgasm starts to build until I’m calling out his name and bliss fills my body. His release follows close after mine, and he clutches me close as my body trembles with aftershocks.
Later, we lie together under my cloak, our legs entwined. Our bodies are sweaty, and I can feel his release between my legs. I know I’m going to have to return to the others soon, which is going to be…awkward. However, right now, I push those thoughts away. The lazy smile on my face is genuine as I draw patterns on the exposed skin of his chest with my finger.
He captures my arm, stopping my movements, and twists it gently as he holds it up, examining it. “This tattoo is new. I didn’t notice it earlier.” The campfire outside the tent offers just enough light for us to see, but I don’t think that’s the reason he didn’t notice earlier.
“It’s my tribal tattoo,” I tell him, pointing out the symbol of the hawk in the center of the other symbols and swirls that wrap around my right arm. “I received it when I became a member of the tribes.”
Humming a sound of acknowledgement, Grayson continues to examine it, brushing the swirls with his finger, making me shiver at his touch. Gently, he releases my arm and sits up, shifting his weight so he’s facing me. His expression makes me anxious, and I know our perfect bubble of peace is about to be burst.
“There’s something else I need to tell you. It’s the reason I’m able to stay with you.”
These words shouldn’t make me nervous, after all, the outcome is a positive one—Grayson finally gets to stay with me, we can be together. This is a good thing. Right? Then why does dread fill me? Hugging the cloak to my chest, I sit upright and face him. “Okay, tell me.”
“The magicians’ guild wants to fight alongside you.”
I stare at him for a few seconds as his words sink in. “Wait, what?” This was not what I was expecting him to say. I knew the magicians had stopped fighting for the King of Arhaven, but to say they would fight for me… Do they even know what they’re fighting for? Taking a deep breath, I decide to focus on the biggest issue. “You know that the elves fight with me, right?”
The humans and elves have been warring for centuries, with the mages being the humans’ greatest fighters. Their only purpose has been to worship the Great Mother and protect the humans from the elves. If they fight for me, they will be working alongside elves, and I don’t know if they can do that.
As if proving my point, Grayson’s expression hardens and he grits his teeth. “Not all of them.” I can’t hide my sigh of disappointment. I know it was stupid to wish Grayson would have gotten over his prejudice towards the elves. But since learning I was part elf, I hoped that would make him more open to accepting some of the elves. Seeing my despondency at his response, he reaches out and squeezes my hand.
“I know not all elves are evil,” he murmurs slowly, like the words are difficult for him to say. “They’ve helped you and you trust them, that’s enough for me.” I watch him as he speaks and gratitude fills me. He’s come a long way. He may not trust the elves, but to be able to trust in me, knowing I trust them, that means the world to me. I believe every word he says, but is it enough?
Smiling sadly, I squeeze his hand. “No, but they’re still elves. Are the mages going to be able to make that distinction?” I trust Grayson, I trust Wilson, but would I trust an army of magicians who have been trained to kill elves on sight? Their hatred runs deep, and the same goes the other way. I’m not even sure how the elves would take it. Would they be able to fight side by side with men they have been taught to hate? I think most of the elves