He nods thoughtfully.
“I hope you know how grateful I am for all you’ve done. I know you didn’t want to come,” he adds.
I chew on my lip. “I’d better go eat something and find a spot to watch the woods for the night.”
He looks like he wants to say something else but thinks better of it and lets me walk away.
As I make my way through the other humans, Enduares, and Elves, someone tries to stop me. When I catch a glimpse of Niht, I freeze.
“Friend,” he starts.
I yank my arm out of his grasp. “What do you want, old man?”
“Ho, peace. You are irritated. I see that now.” He straightens and continues, “The woman you were speaking with?—”
“What about her?” I snarl, still feeling the painful pricks of rejection, of knowing that our goddess never favors me to have a mate.
“That is one of the comfort women we’ve brought back. Queen Estela explained to me that she belonged to one of the giant lords.”
I frown. What a vile, disgusting practice.
“Has your song begun?” he asks.“Is that why you watch her?”
Must he pour salt water over this wound? I grit my teeth and then shake my head once, eager to leave.
“Then I just want to warn you to be… careful with your expectations. She is open with me as well. It could be her nature to act interested.”
Irritation builds under my skin. “Niht, we are not friends. Do not concern yourself with myexpectations.”
The old man dares to look upset, and I start to walk again.
“Ra’Salore,” he starts.
I turn back and point a finger at him. “I don’t want her. We did not sing for each other. Leave me be.”
My gaze turns back to the fire where the female slaves congregate. Melisa sits with the others, combing through their hair. Her tresses are unbound, same as the other humans.
Enduares keep their hair braided and bound, only letting the strands free in front of family as children or as mates when they are grown.
I should look away from the slightly erotic scene.
The humans don’t share my customs. The raven-haired one probably doesn’t even know what this means for someone like me. But my heart stirs, and my fingers ache to braid her locks.
My eyes widen in horror. Such a strong reaction for someone I haven’t sung for. It shouldn’t happen. She’s small. Weak.
And yet, I give my Fuegorra a few more moments near the group to ensure my mate is nowhere in sight.
The silence cuts deep.
Chapter 3
MELISA
“We’ll reach the caves tonight,” one of the elves, Glyni, leans over and says. She’s pretty—really stunning—with long blond hair and labor-hardened muscles. She’s been friendly enough as we walk, chattering about knife skils and gossiping about people I don’t know.
It's a talent of mine to appear interested in anything.
"Are you planning on coming with us?" I say with a smile, conspiratorially bumping her shoulder with mine.