Bow Before the Elf Queen
: Chapter 4

Layala swallowed hard and glanced at Red. What she looked for she didn’t know. Reassurance, perhaps, that Thane wouldn’t try to do anything. She knew he wouldn’t kill her, he needed her magic, and murdered, only the Maker knows, how many to find her, but she was his promised mate—he may try to take what he thought was his. Thane moved toward the apple orchards and didn’t look back to see if she followed.

“Go.” Red gave her a gentle push.

Heart pounding, she put one foot in front of the other until she caught up to him. He no longer wore the mask but she still couldn’t see his face, shadowed by the hood. Why did he ask her to follow him? She fidgeted with the hem of the cloak, waiting for him to say something. They walked silently until they reached the blossoming trees with plump red apples.

“You think me a monster.” It wasn’t a question. He reached up and plucked an apple, then turned it over slowly.

Layala didn’t respond, but she too grabbed a piece of fruit. It was hard and cool to the touch. He brought her over here to pick apples and talk?

Thane grabbed another and turned his cloak into a sort of pouch, dropping them into the fabric cupped around his arm.

“What have your humans told you of me?”

She found it an odd question and lifted her shoulder. There was a lot to tell.

“Nothing? Now that can’t be true.”

She cleared her throat. “Like you said, that you’re a monster.”

“Don’t spare the details. They must be absolutely riveting.”

The arrogance in his tone grated on her nerves. “I know you and your soldiers have killed hundreds if not thousands. The woodland elves fear you, and if the human kings knew you were in their land, it would be considered an act of war because of your brutality.” She paused to gauge his reaction. He didn’t move or say a word. And even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she imagined he stared at her from under the hood. “And they say you fought alone against a hundred pale ones and killed them all.”

He smiled, showing straight white teeth even in the darkness. “A hundred, you say? That would be impressive.”

Her brows furrowed. “It’s not true?” She expected even if the number was inflated, he wouldn’t correct her.

“It was closer to twenty, but even that wasn’t an easy gander through the woods. I strained my back a little.”

Her brows furrowed. Was he being facetious? Layala plucked another apple. “I’ve heard that you mark your flesh with each elf downed by your hand so others know how deadly you are.”

“Interesting.” Was all he said.

She nibbled on her lower lip, debating on speaking the last few things she had in mind. Was it a mistake to give away all she’d heard? If she wanted him to trust her enough to let his guard down she had to give him something.

“Is there more?” he asked.

“Plenty.” Gruesome details of how he and his father hung bodies from the very walls of Castle Dredwich, bathed in bathtubs of blood, and did ritual sacrifices to the old gods of young females in hopes of gaining magic power. Monster was the perfect word to describe Thane Athayel. But she didn’t dare speak those details. “They also said you’ve had many lovers. And that they go mad when you leave them.”

“They say a lot of things, it seems. Why do these lovers of mine go mad?” He was smiling again.

You tell me, she wanted to say but shrugged. There were plants that could make a person mad if ingested for long enough. Perhaps the females were heartbroken that he used them only to discard them when he was bored of their company. The how of it didn’t matter much.

“I would tell you not to believe everything you’ve heard of me, but I doubt you’ll take my word.”

There had to be truth to the rumors. Maybe it was only one or two lovers who’d gone mad. It might be they hung bodies of their enemies in trees rather than off the castle but rumors usually stemmed from the truth. And he didn’t deny a single thing.

Layala plucked another apple and stuffed it into the pocket of her cloak. It could be at least a week on the road, and she hadn’t eaten all day.

When Thane’s cloak looked heavy with fruit, he started back for the carriage and his companions. “That’s enough for now.”

She pulled two more and then followed a few paces behind him. There were two obvious sword outlines under his cloak on his back, and she’d spotted a shine of silver at his hip. At least three weapons.

The others gathered around the small fire, sitting on horse blankets. One of the males tended to a small, skinned animal on a spit but no one spoke as she and Thane approached. Red hurried to the back of the carriage and returned with a wicker basket. She set it at Thane’s feet and the apples were dumped in. Layala kept hold of hers. She stood awkwardly for a moment, watching the four of them sit in silence, each of them looking in a different direction. What were they searching for? She peeked over her shoulder at the woods, and then to the long road ahead. No other travelers were in sight, and she didn’t hear anything but crickets, an occasional owl hoot, the quiet crackling of the fire, and a gentle breeze.

The empty blanket resting between Thane and Red was for her no doubt, but she’d rather sit in silence in the carriage alone than with a pack of murderous thugs. Before she could even turn to leave, Thane said, “Stay. Sit with us.”

It didn’t sound like a request, but she didn’t want to be ordered around like one of his soldiers or servants. Aunt Evalyn said males in power didn’t like females who were easy game. They enjoyed the hunt as much as the catch, but what he didn’t know was she would capture him in her snare before he even knew he was the prey. “I’ll be in the carriage.”

“I wasn’t asking,” he said firmly.

“Neither was I.”

All three of Thane’s soldiers turned toward him. Layala marched for the carriage before he reacted. She threw open the door, slid inside, and slammed it shut. Her heart thrummed against her ribs as she sank into the seat. She waited with bated breath for the door to crash open and for him to drag her out and demand she obey him. The carriage creaked, but he never came.

Hours went by. She listened for any noise but hadn’t heard their mumbled conversation for a while. She pulled the curtain aside. Judging by the moon it was well past midnight. The four of them lay around the fire. She nibbled on her bottom lip. At least one of them would keep watch, wouldn’t they? But perhaps the Maker was on her side this night.

She popped open the door and slipped down the steps careful not to make a sound. The carriage rocked slightly when she stepped off but none of the elves moved. If she was quick, they wouldn’t notice her absence. She dashed through the grass, her steps as silent as the dead. Guided by starlight slipping through the trees, she hurried through the woods, past the big boulder. She caught sight of the thin trail she searched for and followed the dirt that cut between tall grass. Steam rose from the small pool ahead. Gaudrey’s Hot Spring. White lilies grew at its banks and blush blooms of the magnolia tree blossomed overhead. The hot spring had an egg odor but the floral scent from the trees masked it well.

She removed her boots and stripped down bare, not wanting damp clothes for the rest of the night and into the next day. After hanging her clothes on a tree branch she gave one more quick glance around to make sure she wasn’t followed, and dipped a toe in the spring. It was warmer than the night air but not burning. She waded in up to her hips and pushed her right foot around in the sludge, feeling for the drop-off. When she found the place with no immediate bottom, she took a deep breath and sunk under. She swam down at least seven feet, feeling for the weeds that grew in the dark, warm water. A fuzzy string caught around her wrist. There it was, the poisonous plant Gaudrey’s root. The story was Gaudrey’s wife, a thousand years before, poisoned him with this plant’s root by accident. She’d mistaken it for a medicinal plant for healing. Layala jerked it free as her lungs began to protest and kicked off the bottom.

She broke through the surface, inhaled deeply and swiped a hand over her face. After she blinked several times her vision cleared, she gasped. One of the hooded males leaned against a tree trunk, arms crossed. At least she hoped it was one of them. She didn’t want to have to fight off an attacker—naked, no less. Could it get any worse? She still couldn’t feel her magic, and she didn’t have a weapon to defend herself against anyone else.

“Just thought you’d go for a midnight swim in the middle of a dangerous forest?”

Her heart hammered at the sound of Thane’s voice. Her sight drifted to her clothes hanging on the tree branch next to him. She was completely nude, and how in Maker’s name was she supposed to hide the Gaudrey’s root? Would he even know what it was? It would be so much easier to poison them all and get away than try to kill Thane or the others by different, bloodier, more risky means.

He lifted her bralette from the tree and dangled it from his finger. Her cheeks warmed even more than they already were. But instead of allowing the fear of what he might do to her take over, she smiled. “Did you come to catch a glimpse of your future wife? Perhaps you wish to fully see your prize after waiting so many years.”

She gulped, waiting for his response. He set the bra down, grabbed her cloak and after two long strides, he squatted at the edge of the pool. His hood was back enough that she could see part of his face. How she wished she could push it away more.

“As delightful as you no doubt are, now isn’t a good time.” The snap of a branch drew both their attention to the shadows of the trees. When nothing came of it he said, “But I must say, you do have a nice, round backside.”

Her face twisted in disgust. “You watched me undress.”

“I followed you to make sure you weren’t running away or getting yourself into trouble. You chose to disrobe on your own accord.”

“I didn’t know I had an audience.”

“You should learn to listen then.”

She cursed herself. She should have been able to hear him. “You’re obviously—light footed. But a proper male would have alerted me to his presence, not watched from the shadows.” She nibbled on her lower lip. Speaking so freely was taking a lot of risk, but she wasn’t a helpless victim and never would be.

“I wasn’t thinking about propriety. I was busy trying to figure out your motive for coming here, and got a lovely little show in the process.” He shifted slightly, dropping one knee to the soft grass. “Feel free to explain yourself.”

She clenched her teeth together. The audacity it took to even ask that after he called her undressing a “lovely little show” was astounding. Like she was his property. But she couldn’t expect anything more of him. His soldiers forced her into his carriage with the threat of her aunt at knifepoint, after all. “I’m not your slave. You don’t get to demand things from me.”

“Is that so?” He sounded like he was about to laugh. “My, aren’t we in a precarious situation, considering I’m demanding that you come home with me. Demanding that you be my wife. So wife, explain yourself.”

Maker, she hated him. Her heart thundered and she drifted backward in the water a little further away. If she could, she’d slit his throat right then and there. “I’m not your wife either.”

“Yet, but you will be soon. There’s not much of a choice in the matter.”

Little did he know she’d get her choice. Another branch snapped somewhere nearby. The playful tug of his mouth drooped. “You need to get out of the water. It isn’t safe here.”

Was there something here he saw that she didn’t? Another pale one? A troll or group of bandit men? Layala still hadn’t moved to get out of the water swirling around her neck, and she wouldn’t unless… “Drop the cloak and turn around first.” If he’d already seen her backside, he didn’t need to see more.

His mouth curled at the corners but he set the cloak down, stood and wandered to the tree. With his back to her, he leaned his shoulder against it as he’d done before and waited. The water splashed loudly as she climbed out and snatched up the cloak. She stuffed the poisonous root in the pocket and covered her front. Tiptoeing to the tree, she grabbed her clothes, first stepping into the underwear then sliding her bralette on. She kept her eyes locked onto Thane, whose back was a mere two feet or so from her, but he didn’t turn to peek once. At least her captor showed decorum when it came to her modesty even if he was a barbaric brute in other ways. Which made her wonder if he was being nice to gain her trust or if he might actually care for her.

On the walk back, he kept tilting his chin toward her, but hadn’t scolded her or threatened her as she expected he would. The silence between them grew heavy, like a fog. She felt so uncertain and nervous now.

“Is there something you want to say?” she finally blurted out. It was almost as if she knew he wanted to ask her something.

“What were you doing in that pool?” His light footsteps barely made a sound over the grass. The stealth was a little unnerving given his size. A human man of his stature would surely be louder, but she had to remember these were elves, not men.

“Bathing, what else?”

He halted and grabbed her arm before she could take another step. “You’re lying.”

Her pulse ticked up. The sound of blood rushing in her ears drowned out the whoosh of the wind. But she kept her breath steady, forcing her voice to stay even when she said, “Don’t you think if I was trying to get away that I would have kept going? If I wanted to escape, I’d hardly stop for a swim.”

“That’s what is bothering me.” He still hadn’t released his grip on her arm but it was gentle enough. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal.”

“You forcing me to join you under threat?” she said flatly. “Or an arranged marriage?” Which resulted in the death of her parents.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “But you don’t need to be afraid of me.”

“It’s not the thought of you hurting me that I fear.” Also a lie, but what she feared most was that he’d use her as a weapon to kill innocent people in his war. Or that he lied about his father being dead and was being the dutiful son to bring her home so King Tenebris could somehow use her magic for his own dark purposes which would again end in many innocent lives taken. He wanted power… would he invade Calladira and take over the woodland elves’ land? With her strength, would their armies take the human kingdoms? They could burn Briar Hollow and enslave those who didn’t die in battle. The thought made her sick.

“I won’t take you to bed against your will either.”

Was he so foolish he really couldn’t know why she’d been in hiding this long? Her parents didn’t die simply because they didn’t wish their daughter to marry a prince. Most would consider themselves fortunate and blessed by the Maker to be chosen as his bride and become the Queen of Palenor, if she wasn’t the last mage and he wasn’t a war-mongering male.

His mouth hardened. “You think I’m lying.”

“I don’t know what to think.” She started to speak more but he spun her around, clamped his hand over her mouth and brought them down to a crouch. His hulking form was pressed against her back.

She was about to bite down on his hand until he whispered, “Shhh,” in her ear. “We’re being followed.”

Followed?! By what?

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