Only as the darkness of night faded in the face of the approaching dawn did the violence that had raged inside him abate and the fierce roar of his tairen finally fall silent. And then, with a whispered prayer of thanks and a sigh of relief, Rain collapsed on the chaise beside Ellysetta and slept.

Chapter eight

A child's laughter fades into an endless void.

Darkness grows stronger with each passing breath.

Dreams forever haunted by nightmares untold.

Hunting the pure is all they have left.

Mages of Eld - by Daria vol Siar

The Fading Lands ~ Elverial

Ellysetta woke to the sound of water falling and a cool breeze blowing softly through her hair. She started to stretch, then groaned as sore muscles protested the movement.

Her eyes fluttered open. She lay in the middle of an exquisitely shaped bed made of untarnished copper scrolls, draped in soft sheets and piled high with plump pillows in rich shades of green and gold and deep purple. The bed rested at one end of an open-air, copper-roofed room that overlooked a series of frothy waterfalls spilling down the mountainside.

A cool breeze whispered into the room, carrying a scent of wood smoke and roasting fish that made her stomach growl. She gathered the moss green sheets to her body and ignored the flare of aching muscles as she climbed out of bed and walked to the open window arches to look outside.

Rain, wearing only his leather trousers and Fey'cha belts, crouched on the riverbank, roasting a spitted fish over a small log fire. He looked up at her, his expression inscrutable. "Hungry?"

Despite the excesses of last night, a fresh bloom of warmth suffused her at the sight of his bare, shining skin, his muscular arms and broad shoulders, the lean, sculpted strength of his naked chest. "Very." And no longer just for food.

"Stay there." He slid the fish from its wooden spit onto a small platter and strode up a narrow wooden stairway that curved up from the river's edge to the bedroom. "I meant to have a meal prepared before you woke." That was when she noted the small round table and cushioned stools nestled against the far window, set with a vase of fresh woodland flowers and a pitcher of clear water from the stream.

She sat gingerly on one of the stools, and turned her attention outside to hide her faint grimace as little needles of pain shot through her sore muscles. With daylight shining on the stream and surrounding forest, she could see the whole of Elverial's peaceful woodland splendor. "This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen. It almost looks as if all the buildings grew here as part of the forest."

"Aiyah. Elvish architects have always had a way of blending their creations with the natural surroundings."

"You said this was your mother's birthplace."

"It was. She descended from an ancient Fey-Elvish bloodline that spanned back to the days when our two peoples were more than mere allies. We came here often when I was a boy."

She could easily imagine a young, bright-eyed Rain running through these forests, climbing trees—she glanced at the plate of roasted fish and smiled—catching fish in the mountain streams. "Why was such a beautiful city abandoned? And so abruptly? It looks like all the people just went away one day, never to return."

"They did. Most who lived here died in the Wars or the forging of the Mists. The rest eventually went to Dharsa to be among other Fey. Here. We need to leave soon, and you should eat before we go. Dax and Marissya have already set out for Fey'Bahren, and I would prefer not to stop until we've caught up with them." He stripped flaky meat from the fish and lifted the steaming morsel to her lips. A ripple of awareness shivered through her as she opened her mouth and ate from his fingers. His lashes lowered, hiding his eyes from her.

She accepted another bite of fish from his hand and frowned when he took none for himself. "You aren't eating?"

"I fed while you slept. This is for you." He handed her another bite.

She shifted her weight on the small stool, then winced as the movement made sore body parts twinge.

Rain's lips tightened. "Sieks'ta, shei'tani. My shame is great. I was not gentle with you last night."

She blushed and swallowed the morsel of fish. "I don't recall complaining."

"I did not treat you with the care of a shei'tan."

"Rain." She put her hand on his to still his fingers from continuing to shred the fish. "I'm fine. If anyone owes an apology, it's me. I insisted on healing the rasa. I didn't realize what it would do to you. You tried to tell me, but I refused to hear, because I didn't want to let you stand in my way." Admitting that hurt far more than any physical reminder of last night.

His jaw set in a grim line. "I allowed it. I allowed them to touch you, allowed their pain to torment you, because I am the Defender of the Fey and I needed their blades for war. And then I punished you for it."

"You didn't—"

"You'd already been brutalized more than any mate of mine ever should be. First that seizure in Teleon, then the Mists and the rasa. Then me. You cannot deny it." He caught her hands, rubbing the faint ring of bruises on her wrists and scowling at the bluish imprint of his fingers on her upper arms. "I saw these on you when I woke."

She pulled free. "You did not brutalize me. I'm a little sore, yes, but unhurt. Besides"—she touched her fingertips to the reddened marks on his chest where her nails had raked like claws— "you didn't come out completely unscathed."