My father’s kingdom would have abhorred the idea of mixing blood with a non-magical race, but the truth is that my people are dying out.We had been fools not to let more people come into contact with the slaves we'd stolen and freed in the past.
The more I watch, the more possibility blooms before me like luminous fungi. So many feelings are trapped in my chest, and I struggle to free them.Liana is right—I am heavy. The risks have increased, but so have the rewards.
A watery sound fills the air as healing-infused liquid is poured into cups, and singers are already approaching with gems in hand to help minister to the sick. Something about how the water moves strikes up an idea about how I can make the woman stay.
My attention is pulled to Dyrn once again, and I find him already inching toward the exit with the seasoning. I know it is time to return to the surface and help with the food, but I linger for a second more.
"I think that Tirin should stay here for the night. He seems to bring a bit of warmth wherever he goes," I say.
Dyrn nods. "He barely went through the First Cut barely a year ago, but he is fierce. He picked his role well."
"That he did. Let us return," I say.
My people make me strong. The camaraderie with them gives me the hardness to pick up my sword once more—to hurt myself if it means survival.
"Safe night, friends," I call, and then follow Dyrn to the surface.
Upon exiting the tunnel to the palace, there’s movement behind me, and I see hunter following. Faol offers a shallow bow, his hand on his weapon while he joins Dyrn.
"My king, Lord Vann sends word," the hunter with the scarred eye says.
I acknowledge him, "Yes?"
“He has tried to speak with the remaining humans. They are all too terrified to respond,” Faol says.
I sigh. “Let them stay together, but get them clothes, blankets, and we’ll prepare a hearty meal.” Most humans I’ve met are fearful things. Nothing like the woman who punched me in the face—the one now stored in the queen’s suite. “Perhaps stationing a singer in front of their room can also convince them to relax.”
Faol nods and leaves, but Dyrn remains at my side. He is not looking at me. The moment is heavy. The weight turns crushing when I remain in one place too long.
Determined to do anything but return to Liana’s grotto, Dyrn and I start toward the pavilion. It will be good to see Vann again. He always helps me clear my head.
There is nothing but silence as we walk. Upon arriving, I see a fire lit in the center of the open area.
A rawruh’glumdloris on a metal spit being hoisted over the flame, and I feel a deep sense of satisfaction that we have such a successful bounty for our new humans. But, as usual, my mind travels back to the black-haired woman, and I wonder if the flame-haired one is taking care of her wounds.
The potent sensation of her fades and twitches. Her sleep is heavy. Vann appears at my side, and the look on his face makes my stomach clench.
"I thought you were with the humans," I say. There is no need for pretense between us, not between the closest of friends.
"I was, but my human language skills are not as proficient as yours, and not all of them understand the common tongue. They huddle together like rats," Vann replies, his voice lowered so the hunters will not hear. "It does not bode well for their time under the mountain."
"We must be patient," I say. "They come from monsters far worse than what the world believes of us. They think we steal their kind out of hunger for their flesh." The bitterness behind my words is palpable.
"Can we prove them wrong?" Vann says, laying a hand on my shoulder. "In the past, none of them wanted to stay. And we know that humans need light. But what the hell do I know? You’re the one mated to a human, and we both know I am too pessimistic."
I nod, still lost in thought about my mate. "Do you have any word on... the woman?" I still don't know her name, she is not officially a queen. What more can I say?
Vann's lips twitch into a smirk, watching my discomfort. "Which one?"
I shove him. It's harder than I intended, but he doesn't seem upset. "You wound me, friend."
He laughs. Then, his smile falls short. "She refuses any help, save from the firelocks. And she smells.”
"She's awake?" I blink, my heart soaring far too high for someone who hates the sight of me. She should have slept longer than two hours. My magic was potent. In an action that is still new to me, I stretch my touch wide, seeking her out. I am met with cold silence. Fear slices through me, so I try again.
Vann nods. "Yes, she is. But she's strong for her size. She continues to throw things at anyone who walks through the door. Did you have to give her a fully stocked suite?" It's then that I realize there is a slightly darker hue to the skin around Vann's eye.
It wounds me that she feels unsafe. We are not the giants. When I seek through the bond in our minds, I still do not find her.