by Amber Burns
“That’s different,” Vylkur replied. “Those orcs are civilized,” he added with a wink before sighing. “Let us just get the rest of these wet things off you,” he murmured with an underlying purr as he eased Liandrya out of the rest of her attire that was soaked and soiled from both travel and storm.
The curtains were drawn closed in the windows, so Liandrya made no effort to cover her now naked form. Instead, she slipped her arms around Vylkur’s neck when he rose to his feet and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. She sighed contentedly when Vylkur let the wet clothes drop to the floor, so he could wrap his arms around her and press her flush against his body. Between the warmth of her lover, and the warmth from the crackling fire, Liandrya was the furthest thing from cold, and all thoughts of her dangerous and arduous journey were pushed from her mind in favor of more pleasurable thoughts.
It was Vylkur who broke the kiss first, and while the embers of passion burned in his eyes, he gave Liandrya a small shake of his head. “Not yet,” he said huskily.
“I know,” Liandrya replied with a sigh and a nod of her head while slowly taking a step back. “Couldn’t help myself though. The wilds and open road can be very lonely,” she added while lightly biting her bottom lip.
Vylkur slowly breathed out through his nose and miraculously maintained his control even in the face of his lover’s enticing nakedness. “Believe me when I say that you were incredibly missed, my dearest darling,” he whispered. “But your journey was long, and you could no doubt do with a hot bath and a hot meal.” He smiled conspiringly. “I promise you the time will fly by, and we will be reacquainting ourselves with one another in no time at all.”
Liandrya smiled and nodded. “I’ll go and take my bath then,” she said while stooping to gather up her discarded clothing only to be stopped by Vylkur.
“Leave them,” the dark elf said with a smile. “I will see to them. You get yourself upstairs and into a hot bath. Supper will be ready when you come back down.”
Smiling as she straightened, Liandrya closed the distance between them and brushed a soft kiss to Vylkur’s lips. “I’ll try not to take too long.”
“Take as long as you please, my lovely Lia,” Vylkur replied while lightly rubbing his nose against hers. “Neither I nor the food are going anywhere.”
Nodding as she stepped away, Liandrya padded naked up the stairs and down the hall to the bathing chamber. She did not bother closing the door once she stepped inside, and instead began filling the tub by way of the attached water pump. The second the first drops of water hit the polished stone of the tub, there was a hiss as steam wafted up into the air. Vylkur had enchanted the tub to remain warm so that hot baths were convenient and instantaneous rather than having to wait for water to warm upon either the hearth or kitchen fire.
Liandrya smiled as she thought of her lover’s creativity while continuing to pump water into the tub. It was one of the many things she loved about him.
Once she had filled the tub enough, Liandrya carefully climbed in and slipped down into the water’s steaming depths. She sighed and sank down to her nose before allowing her eyes to flutter closed in appreciation. Already, she could feel her tired muscles truly relaxing for the first time in weeks as layers of sweat and grime melted away as though they had never been there in the first place.
The familiar sound of Vylkur’s footsteps reached her ears, but Liandrya kept her eyes closed. The last of her adrenaline had departed her body, and the ranger was now acutely aware of just how tired her body was and how much her every muscle ached. This recent quest of hers had been rough and punishing indeed.
“Hello again,” Liandrya greeted sleepily only to moan and go limp when Vylkur’s hands slipped into her hair and began massaging scented oil deep into her scalp. “Oh, Gods,” she whimpered as her skin began tingling.
“Your journey was a hard one,” Vylkur said simply as he worked. “I can feel it.” He smiled as Liandrya shivered and moaned as his skilled fingers hit key pressure points. “But you are home now,” he continued as his fingers slowly made their way down Liandrya’s neck and to her shoulders. “Now, I can take care of you instead of you simply fending for yourself.”
“What about...supper?” Liandrya asked on the tail end of a sound that was halfway between a moan and a whimper. Though, truthfully, she wondered if she would be awake enough after her bath to actually eat anything.
“The pot is in no danger of boiling over, I promise you,” Vylkur replied with a smile. “I suppose I had a feeling you would be returning tonight,” he mused as he deeply massaged Liandrya’s shoulders as well as the base of her neck. “I made lamb stew, your favorite.”
“Oh, Vylkur,” Liandrya whimpered. “I love you. I love you.”
Vylkur smiled and leaned down to nuzzle and kiss the top of Liandrya’s head. “And I love you, my darling Liandrya. You truly are the only woman I have ever loved.”
2
Gods, it was good to be home!
When Dorlyn Autumnleaf stepped in from the deluge and over the threshold of his home, he quickly closed the door behind himself and kept the storm outside where it belonged. Silence greeted him as the savory smell of lamb stew wafted into his nose from the kitchen; and, as he removed his soaked cloak from around his shoulders, Dorlyn gave his long, damp, auburn hair a shake while smiling in appreciation of the welcoming warmth of his home that now enveloped him like a blanket.
The wood elf kicked off his boots then moved towards the fireplace to hang his wet cape upon a chair to dry, but paused upon seeing a cloak draped over the other chair. Dorlyn’s heart raced at the sight of the cloak, and he hurriedly dropped his own over the spare chair before swiftly and silently taking the stairs two at a time with great ease thanks to the long length of his legs.
Upon reaching his bedroom after padding down the hallway, Dorlyn peeked inside and smiled at the sight of the two sleeping figures curled up together on the large, four-poster bed in the center of the room. As he stepped into the chamber, Dorlyn’s heart skipped happily at the sight of his beloved Vylkur, and his smile grew as his gaze moved over to his precious Liandrya as she slept peacefully in the dark elf’s embrace.
Mine...they’re both all mine.
As he crossed around to the other side of the bed, it was just in time to see Vylkur open his peridot eyes. As silent of foot as Dorlyn was, he knew that his dark lover would have no difficulty in sensing his presence, and not simply because they had been mated to each other for three centuries.
One simply did not last long in the Under Realm if they were unvigilant.
The Under Realm was home to more than the dark elves. Goblins, dark fae, and other dangerous creatures made their home within the endless dark as well, and the alleged peace between them all was fragile at best. As such, the senses of the dark elves had evolved out of necessity in order to be more heightened than their lighter-skinned cousins.
The same could be said of the senses of the dark elves who chose to make their home in Cysgodion, the city built upon the surface by the dark elves for the sole purpose of trade expansion. Inhabited only by dark elves, it was protected from the blinding sunlight by way of multiple spells and enchantments that kept the city shrouded by eternal night. Known by outsiders as the City of Night, it allowed its residents to conduct trade and business that would have otherwise remained out of their grasp should they have remained in their subterranean world; however, like drew like. Cysgodion was a city that drew only the seediest and most cutthroat of merchants and pirates, and its Assassins Guild was the most infamous in the entire land of Cadarnle.
But none of that mattered now.
“Hey, where did you go?”
The softly-spoken words brought Dorlyn back to the present, and he blinked before noticing that Vylkur had carefully disentangled himself from Liandrya’s sleeping form and moved around the bed to stand beside him. Smiling, Dorlyn tucked a lock of snowy-white hair behind Vylkur’s right ear before leaning down and claiming his li
ps in a slow, passionate kiss.
“I was merely thinking of how we first met, and how far we’ve come since then,” Dorlyn murmured against Vylkur’s lips before wrapping his arms around him and simply holding him close.
Vylkur smiled and nestled into his much taller mate. “I often think of that time as well,” he murmured. “If you had the chance to go back and do it over again...knowing what you know now, would you?”
“In a heartbeat,” Dorlyn answered. “Though, there is one thing I would have done differently.”
“Such as?”
“Instead of helping you to settle and begin a life in the woods, I would’ve encouraged you to go to Lehnos as you originally planned, and the simply gone with you right from the start,” Dorlyn answered.
It was unusual for elves to live alongside humans in bustling cities. It was no secret that the immortal beings preferred the company of their own while living in harmony among the trees and forest creatures; but, for Dorlyn and Vylkur, who were no longer welcome among their people, the city was their sanctuary. It was not the fact that they were two men who had fallen in love and chose to be mated to each other, but rather the fact that they were of different races. The centuries-old hatred the two elven races shared for each other was deep-seeded, and for members of the two races to feel something other than loathing for each other simply was not done.
A wood elf and a dark elf loving one another was viewed as the highest betrayal, and any children resulting from such a union were viewed as abominations. But that had not deterred Dorlyn and Vylkur. They had carried on their affair in secret for the better part of fifty years before they were finally discovered and cast out of their societies; but even then, they were not deterred. Not once had they even considered renouncing their love for one another, and they embraced their exile with open arms, for it meant they no longer were forced to hide what they shared. For the love they shared with one another, Dorlyn and Vylkur were viewed as pariahs and outsiders by their people; and so, they chose to live in Lehnos...among their fellow pariahs and outsiders.
The city of Lehnos had been founded many centuries ago as a haven for those who did not belong anywhere as a result of exile or defection from their people. It had started out as a mere hamlet, but over the course of several years and generations, it had grown into much more. As more of the displaced flocked in droves, the town had grown into a city that rivaled the favored haunts of the nobility. For its citizens, Lehnos was a place in which they could start over and find a sense of normalcy, and the population within the walls was a veritable hodgepodge. It was a place in which man, elf, dwarf, halflings, and half-breeds of varying sorts lived and worked side by side. It was a thriving place of business for both traveling merchants as well as those who lived and worked within the city walls, and the various guilds were recognized all throughout Cadarnle.
Lehnos was a place in which both Dorlyn and Vylkur had thrived as they built their life together over the course of several centuries. Vylkur, who had even taken Dorlyn’s surname as his own, was a highly respected member of the Wizard’s Guild, and Dorlyn was the most sought-after fletcher and bowyer in the city. It had been so long ago since they had first met...so long ago since they had embarked upon this life with one another, and yet, they were more in love with one another and more pleased with their decision than ever. Neither of them would trade a moment of their life in exile for the chance to be back among their own people.
They knew they had made the right choice.
“Truly?” Vylkur asked.
Dorlyn nodded. “That way, we could have lived openly with one another instead of keeping our love a secret for all those years.” He kissed the top of Vylkur’s head. “There would’ve been no stolen moments between us...only moments going seamlessly from one into the next.”
Vylkur tilted his head back so he could look up into Dorlyn’s handsome face. “Would you have made that decision before or after the night we spent in the cave?” he asked teasingly with a raised eyebrow.
“After,” Dorlyn replied with a smirk while lightly tickling Vylkur’s sides. “Because that night only confirmed in my mind what my heart and body already knew, and that was that we were meant for one another.” He kissed Vylkur tenderly. “Our people are ancient enemies, and we barely knew one another at the time, but I was drawn to you from the first moment I spared your life in that skirmish.” Another kiss. “For all the protestations of my mind, the mere thought of you aroused and delighted me in ways that no other ever had, and when we had one another over and over in the cave that night…”
“I knew that I couldn’t leave you either...not after that night,” Vylkur uttered while pressing his body flush against Dorlyn’s as his arms slid up around his neck. “The passion we shared that night should have been nothing more than a bout of stress release after a nearly harrowing ordeal...but as we lay tangled together after a night of passion and intimacy the likes of which I never before experienced, I knew that I would never forgive myself if I left you.” He rose onto his toes and brushed his lips against Dorlyn’s. “I knew even then that my place was beside you.”
Dorlyn smiled. “As did I.”
It was not until that fateful night in the cave with Vylkur that Dorlyn had felt the overwhelming urge to claim a lifemate. Not once among the lovers he had enjoyed before meeting Vylkur had Dorlyn ever felt the need to commit himself to any of them, and he now realized that he simply had not been fated for any other but the dark elf who had been seemingly haphazardly thrown into his path.
They had lived like that for fifty years. For half a century, Dorlyn would secretly steal away in the dead of night and spend hours conversing and making love with his beloved in the home he had built for him. He had also taught Vylkur the necessary skills needed for surviving in the wild. While the situation had not been perfect, the two of them were nevertheless happy.
But then, they had been discovered.
It would have been so easy for Dorlyn to lie and deny his feelings for Vylkur. All that was needed was the utterance of a few select words, and all would be well. His people would believe that he had been under the influence of a dark spell, and he would face no punishment. But to utter such words would be a betrayal of everything Dorlyn was as well as everything he felt for the man who had come to mean so much to him. So, he told the truth.
And then their life together had truly begun.
Dorlyn smiled at Vylkur now, and he knew his eyes reflected his love for him. “How long has our little vixen been back?” he whispered in a barely audible voice while flicking his gaze towards Liandrya.
“Not long,” Vylkur replied with the same softness of voice. “Perhaps an hour ago? We were waiting for you.”
Liandrya was not the first woman they had taken as a shared lover. Quite the contrary. Every twenty or so years, Vylkur and Dorlyn would invite a woman into their bed and their lovemaking for a short while. For Dorlyn, it was a chance for him to indulge in his enjoyment of the female form. For Vylkur, it was that and more, for it subconsciously allowed him to reaffirm his sense of manhood by not being subservient to a woman in bed. Even after all his years of freedom and unadulterated bliss with Dorlyn, the years of torment and abuse at Morkessa’s hands haunted him still.
So, the two of them had come up with the arrangement together, and it served them both well. They would not invite a woman into their bed unless they both found her appealing, and it never went beyond one or two nights before Dorlyn and Vylkur parted ways with the woman and went back to living their lives. They had only one rule for the course of the affair, and that was that neither of them was to have the woman alone. For however long the tryst lasted, the woman was theirs to share together.
The arrangement had served Dorlyn and Vylkur well over the course of their three centuries together; however, everything changed two years ago when Liandrya crossed their path. Vylkur had met her first when she came into the Wizard’s Guild with the hopes of selling the veritable trove of magical item
s and ancient tomes she had found while exploring an ancient ruin. He had found her beautiful right from the start, but it had been her quick and inquisitive mind that had drawn him deeper in and prompted him to speak to Dorlyn about her. Once Dorlyn had met Liandrya after she visited his shop for repairs on her bow, he understood only too well why Vylkur had taken such an interest in her; and so, they approached her together with their proposal.
Liandrya accepted, and over the course of the several nights that followed, the three of them embarked upon hours of sexual gratification and eroticism the likes of which neither of them had ever experienced. Nimble of both body and mind, Liandrya had suited the needs of the mated pair far better than their previous playmates ever had, and both Dorlyn and Vylkur had found themselves unwilling to part company with Liandrya after the usual length of their past trysts. In the end, they were forced to part ways with her after well over a week because Liandrya had been hired by a very rich merchant to recover an item that had been stolen from him.
That should have been the end of it.
But it was not.
Every time Liandrya returned to the city after one of her adventures, the three of them indulged in countless hours of unbridled passion. They simply could not get enough of one another, and whenever Liandrya was forced to leave them again, Dorlyn and Vylkur both noticed a definitive absence. Their home was noticeably quieter without the sound of Liandrya’s voice, and they found themselves missing the scent of her once it faded away.