Exiled: A Return of the Elves Novella (The Return of the Elves Book 3)

by Bethany Adams

  Fighting sudden tears, Mio’s hand tightened around the hilt of the larger blade. His father hadn’t even cared enough to see him properly armed. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  Mio lifted her head at the confusion in Faen’s voice. “Your father.” She took a breath. “For getting you involved. Everything.”

  Fury closed Faen’s throat tight for one long moment. That she should be apologizing for his people’s failure only surged the anger higher. How could the nobles not see that a Devout stronghold would mean death for many of the Eiana? The Devout might call to eliminate magic, but they used creatures of spirit, like the hounds, without compunction. Creatures that could cross between dimensions given enough energy.

  Old prejudices would lead the nobles to their doom.

  “You have nothing to apologize for.” Faen caught her gaze. “Not when your bravery may have saved us.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Me? But—”

  “You ran to the grove, even knowing you might not be received. My father won’t acknowledge it, but your warning has been of great benefit. We’ll have some time to prepare for the Devout.” He grimaced. “Well, they will. I’ll be exiled as soon as we leave this grove.”

  Lady Mio shoved herself to her feet. “For helping me?”

  “In part,” he answered. “But more for disobeying. Since I refused to join the ranks of mages, my father has been searching for any excuse to get rid of me.”

  Her face went pale. “Then you must stay.”

  Faen picked up the quiver and pulled the arrows free. “No. We’ll save many more if we end this threat now.”

  Closing his eyes, Faen called his meager magic forth. He gritted his teeth as the energy tried to slip free, but he finally forced it into the arrows, tuning them to the spell he needed. Physical weapons could do little against spirit hounds—their bodies weren’t true flesh and blood—but detaching the spirits from the physical realm worked well. A trick his father didn’t know about.

  As he held his magic firm, he focused on Mio’s pinched face. Faen put the arrows back and lifted his free hand. “I’ll enchant the knives, if you’ll let me.”

  Though her eyes went wide, she handed him the pouch holding her throwing blades without comment. Muscles trembling with the effort, Faen cast the spell into each knife before returning them. Only then did he let his magic settle back into himself. His knees wobbled, and he fought against the urge to sit. He’d used his power entirely too much for one day.

  “Why can’t you cast that directly at the hounds?” Mio asked.

  Faen glared at the edge of the circle. “I’m not powerful enough to do magic through the barrier. But if I go out there, they’ll kill me before I can go through them all.”

  “Oh.” Mio bit her bottom lip. “If we survive this—”

  “My lady, I beg you. Make no promises.” He kept himself from touching her by dint of will. “Only mages can be noble among my kind. There is nothing I can offer you. Not even an alliance.”

  “You should listen to him, my bride.”

  The voice sliced across the clearing, and only training kept Faen from jumping at the sudden sound. As Mio flinched, her face going pale, Faen looked over her shoulder for the source. A tall man stood at the edge of the circle, a cloak much like Mio’s falling around him in a splash of color. But no birds woven in for him—pale spirit hounds danced on a field of richest purple. That and the hair bound on his head in the Lord’s knot told Faen more than enough.

  Her step-uncle already claimed victory.

  Faen heard Lady Mio take a deep breath as she tucked her pouch of knives back beneath her stiff sash. Then she turned, her shoulders straight and expression blank. “I am not your bride. Nor will I ever be.”

  “Your mother approved the match.”

  “At the point of your sword,” Mio said. “She is not Lady here. I am. And I have refused your suit.”

  At a gesture, the spirit hounds gathered around the edges of the man’s cloak, looking eerily like they’d just climbed off. “The Devout are coming, Mio. You cannot escape this. Why would you reject my protection?”

  Even Faen could sense the fury pouring from the lady, though he wasn’t an empath. “Some protection,” Faen muttered.

  The noble smirked, waving his hand at the empty clearing. “It’s more than you can offer, isn’t it?”

  Faen slung the quiver on his shoulder and bent down for the bow. He took a long breath to calm his fury. Anger made his hands shake, and he needed his aim to be true. “I guess we’ll see.”

  Careful to keep her hunting knife hidden in the folds of her gown, Mio studied her uncle. “Go back north, Kaso. The Lord and Lady of War can never be ascendant.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Clearly, I disagree.”

  “What happens once they have destroyed all in their path?” Mio asked softly. “What will the fire do when the wood is consumed?”

  “You speak to save yourself,” Kaso answered, though something like fear crossed his face. “The Devout have been promised much to rid the world of your kind.”

  “Light will ever stand firm.”

  Kaso smirked. “Brave but foolish. It’s too bad your blood is tainted. Though it might be worth the risk for the strength of our sons.”

  A shiver of fear danced down Mio’s spine, but she stood firm. “Never.”

  “We shall see,” Kaso said, his voice cold. His looked to the hounds and gave a quick gesture. As one, the spirit hounds sprang for the circle, hitting in one solid line.

  Though her grasp of magic was small, the sudden cracking of the spell threw Mio’s world askew. Her vision went gray, and behind her, Faen cursed. When she steadied and her vision cleared, she wished it hadn’t. The hounds were moving fast, their wicked barks making her heart pound harder as they rushed across the clearing.

  Still, she kept her knife hidden.

  Arrows rained from behind her right shoulder to thud into the approaching hounds. Three whirled into smoke with ghostly cries. But Faen would never take out the other seven before they reached her. They were just too fast.

  Mio lifted a brow. “Can you not enter the circle yourself, Uncle? The Devout must be weaker than they say.”

  “Why so concerned for me, Mio? Changing your mind?” Kaso asked. But he took a few steps closer.

  “I’ll wed no man who can’t retrieve me himself,” Mio answered. Though her voice stayed steady, her hands shook in the folds of her gown. “It would be unworthy.”

  Two more hounds fell to Faen’s arrows before Kaso flicked his hand, sending them toward Faen instead. Mio’s breath hitched, but she didn’t have time to worry about Faen. Not as Kaso strode forward, his gaze focused on her face. As the last hound rushed past, her step-uncle halted before her.

  “Embrace me, Lady,” Kaso whispered. “And accept your fate.”

  “Mio!” she heard Faen gasp from behind her.

  But there was only one choice. “Of course.”

  Kaso opened his arms wide, and Mio moved close, slipping her arms around him at the last moment. Beneath his thick, silk cloak. She took a deep breath and looked into Kaso’s eyes as she accepted her fate, for failure would mean death. Lord and Lady of Light give her strength.

  A gasp puffed from her lips as she shoved her hand upward, plunging her knife hard toward his back.

  Faen perched in a tree once more, thanking every teacher he’d ever had during his training. His speed would save him and Mio both. It had to. With the last of the spirit hounds dead, he lifted the bow again, ready to sight on his target. He would only get one chance if he wanted to save Mio. But he almost dropped his bow instead when he saw that her uncle had already stumbled back.

  The other knife. He’d forgotten. Mio clearly hadn’t. She stood tall, blood dripping from the tip of the larger blade.

  But her uncle still lived, and fury rushed across his face to blend with pain as he reached for Mio. Faen loosed his arrow. It flew true, embedding deep in her uncle’s ar
m. Faen nocked another and prayed Mio would move enough to give him a clear shot. But when she moved, it was closer.

  Sunlight gleamed for the briefest moment on the blade she lifted once more.

  The smooth hilt slid against Mio’s slick palm as she firmed her grip, and her stomach heaved at the thought of his blood on her flesh. But as Kaso’s focus shifted to the arrow in his arm, Mio moved. What Faen and the Gods had provided, she would not waste. She lifted her knife and plunged it toward his neck without pausing to think. It sank deep into the soft skin of his throat, and the feel of it…She hardly noticed as her uncle fell hard.

  Suddenly, it didn’t matter if she lived or died—so long as she could throw up.

  Mio felt a hand on her back as she emptied her stomach into the grass, and in that moment, she didn’t care who touched her. So long as they kept up that slow, soothing circle. And when she was finished, another hand held out a square of forest-green cloth. Her eyes slipped closed in gratitude as she wiped her mouth, realizing only then that she knelt in the grass.

  “You did it,” Faen said softly from just behind her.

  Mio tensed, jerking to her feet so she could meet his eyes. “I never wanted to take a life, necessary though it was.”

  “I never thought you did,” Faen answered. Pain twisted his expression until he forced it smooth. “I meant only that you saved yourself and my people, too. You have no need of the Eiana—or me—now.”

  Her heart thudded hard in her chest. “That is not true.”

  “I…” His fists clenched, and his gaze slipped from hers. “I am not a noble, my lady.”

  “Come with me, and you will be,” Mio said, her voice somehow steadier than her hands.

  Faen’s gaze darted back. “What?”

  Gathering her courage, Mio stepped closer—close enough to touch. She lifted her clean hand, stopping a breath away from his cheek. “Wed with me. Be my Lord.”

  His breath hissed out. “It isn’t that easy. So many would—”

  “I don’t care about anyone else.” Mio shivered as her fingers brushed his flesh. “My people will accept you, since your father is noble. Ancestry matters more than magic to the Kioku. But I would choose you even still.” She paused, swallowing against the dryness in her mouth. “Will you choose me?”

  Faen’s eyes searched hers for an eternity, and her throat closed tight. Would this be the last time she touched him, saw him? Then he lifted his own hand to cover hers, pressing her palm against his cheek. His lips curved up, and his eyes went soft. “Always.”

  Acknowledgments

  As always, I’d like to thank my family for all of their patience and support. I couldn’t do it without you.

  Huge thanks to each and every reader. I’ve received so many nice reviews and messages, and I can’t even tell you how much they mean to me. Thank you!

  Thank you to Jessica and Natasha for being such awesome critique partners. And for putting up with me! :)

  To Jody and Eve for your amazing work and unerring support. I wouldn’t be where I am without your awesomeness.

  I’d also like to give a big thanks to L. Nahay for pointing out my little naming issue. I hope this is better. :)