A Deal with the Elf King (Married to Magic, #1)(62)

“Eldas,” I whisper thickly. My head tilts slightly into his palm. I have an ache in me, a deep need I’ve never yielded to, and everything in me tells me that giving in is the worst idea possible. But I can’t think straight. Between the mead and his touch, I don’t want to.

“Luella?” My name is a question. What is he asking?

“Yes.” Whatever it is, yes.

His grip on me tightens; he pulls my face upward. My mouth meets his. His arm tightens around me, yanking me even closer. We smell of honey and taste of forgotten dreams. We move like desperation.

The glass I was holding falls, shattering, nearly breaking this trance with it. But Eldas runs his tongue along my lips and I let out a whine I didn’t know I could make. I allow him entry into my mouth and his tongue slips against mine gently—so gently.

Yet his movements are somewhat rough and needy. He’s a man of contrasts. Soft and hard. Cold yet he sets me aflame.

My back is against the mantle by the fireplace. My shoulders arch and I press against him. He holds my face to his until we both are lightheaded and gasping, coming up for air.

Eldas stares at me, lips shining and parted. I meet his gaze with as much shock and awe. The fire burns as blue as his eyes. The shards from my shattered glass are now rose petals.

“We… I…” He breathes heavily. Then, without warning, Eldas steps away. There’s panic in his eyes and fear in his movements. “You’re leaving.”

“I’m right here.” I reach for him; all better judgment has left me.

“No, you’re leaving Midscape. Leaving me. We… I can’t.” The truth sobers us both. “I must go.”

“Eldas—”

He’s gone before I can say more than his name. The fire burns orange once more and the only traces of the king are wisps of the Fade he just fled through.





Chapter 23





The walk to the throne room is very, very long the next morning.

“Are you all right?” Rinni asks, pausing right before we enter.

“What? I—yes, of course I am. Why do you ask? I’m perfectly fine.”

“Uh huh.” Rinni abandons the door and folds her arms over her chest. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be late and Eldas will—” I try and move for the door but Rinni blocks me. Hook growls up at her but I stop him with a hand. Rinni knows Hook well enough by now that she’s not intimidated in the slightest.

“Yes, you don’t want to be late. So out with it; how did last night go?”

“It was fine,” I say a little too quickly.

“Fine?” She arches her eyebrows and repeats, “Fine? You’ve wrung your hands at least fifty times on the way here. Something happened.”

“No, nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

I groan and bury my face in my hands. The anticipation of seeing Eldas again has been prickling me all morning to the point that I couldn’t sit still. I had to read my journals while pacing before the sun was even up or the restless energy in me might spark lightning.

All night, the sight of his silhouette outlined in raw blue magic illuminated my mind. All night, I heard the whispers of the softer tones of his voice; his more delicate expressions haunted me. The phantom sensations of his lips on mine had me sighing and gasping in ways that embarrassed me come dawn.

“Really, it went fine. We’ll just have to see how the rest goes from here.”

Rinni studies me for another long minute. But then finally eases away from the door. “All right. But if you want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

“Thank you.” Though Rinni would likely be the last person I talk to about wanting her king to press me against a wall and do obscene things with his fingers somewhere between my—stop with those thoughts right now, Luella.

“If it’s any consolation, Eldas seemed out of sorts this morning.”

I bet he was, I bite back and enter the throne room.

Eldas is seated on his iron throne. His right ankle rests atop the opposite knee. Balanced on his thigh is a familiar journal. His chin rests lightly on his fist as his eyes dart across the page.

I walk silently over and stand right in front of him. But he doesn’t look up. His strong cheekbones frame his thin lips, pursed slightly in thought to match the slight furrow in his brow. I know what those lips feel like now—not cold, not cutting, but velvet.

I wonder if he doesn’t know I’m here. It would seem impossible, but with such a look of intense focus…

“I believe I need to thank you,” he says, finally. I nearly jump out of my skin as the words echo through the throne room.

“For what?” My mind is still on last night.

Eldas holds up Alice’s journal. “Telling me this existed. I went to retrieve it from the laboratory last night.” He stands and stretches out his arm. “Here. If you don’t mind returning it to the laboratory for me?”

“Did you…finish it?” I ask, crossing over and taking the journal from him. He’s acting normal. But also not. There’s a kindness here, a warmth that wasn’t there before.

Does he want to kiss me again? I can’t tell and I hate that. I want to know him so well that I know every time he wants to kiss me and every time he’d let me kiss him. Do I want to kiss him again? I can’t seem to get my thoughts in order.