Bound to the Elvin King

by Lisa Kumar

  Talion’s struggles ended abruptly, and he gazed at the sentries with a surprising intensity. What, did he think he could quell them with his sight alone? Or maybe he knew something she didn’t? Maggie scoffed at herself. Of course, he knew something. He was only the king. With any luck, whatever information he had would be useful.

  Otherwise, they were royally screwed.

  ***

  Talion fought the hands subduing him, but to no avail. When the sentries wretched his arms behind his back and tied his hands together, rage, shame, and worry gnawed at him. How could he protect Maggie now? He jerked his wrists experimentally. The rope held tight. They hadn’t left any slack, not that he thought they would.

  He glanced at the two sentries, who still kept a restraining hand on him. If only he could find a weakness some— Recognition pricked at him. He froze, no longer fighting the sentries’ grip and, instead, stared until their names came to mind. His heart sped up a beat or two. “I recognize you, Pacil. And you, too, Tamrin. At one time, neither of you would’ve thought of betraying me.”

  They’d been trusted sentinels—the highest rank a warrior could obtain without becoming a captain. Was there any of shred of that loyalty left? If so, he could use it. How much was left of their former selves? If they were like most darkindred, probably only the barest remnants remained.

  Something like loss flitted across Tamrin’s face. “Time has changed. We are no longer the same men we were.”

  “You are darkindred.” The yellow eyes proved it. Discomfort at that thought arose, but he ignored it. Darkindred were nothing new to him, after all. Disappointment replaced the hoped he’d held, though. He’d get no help from them.

  “Yes,” Pacil said.

  Talion nodded his head toward Eamon. “Still, to accept such a snake into your fold.”

  Eamon laughed. “If you only knew how hilarious your words are.”

  The giddy humor in his voice grated on Talion’s mutilated nerves. But he kept his mouth closed. Surely the idiot would spill the truth of his plans and how he’d come to be among the darkindred if no one interrupted. Such egotistical buffoons normally couldn’t stop themselves.

  Eamon strode to stand before him and grinned. “Didn’t you know I’ve controlled the darkindred all along? Before Serrina died, she helped me.”

  Shockwaves rolled through Talion. All air left his lungs, and his tongue refused to function. Serrina had…what? The meaning of Eamon’s words took time to sink in. Talion had known of her affair with Andrian, but never suspected her treachery flowed so deep. How could he not have suspected? After all, he knew her past duplicity well and was sure she’d been the one to hide her father’s prophecy where she believed it would never be found.

  Eamon crossed his arms over his chest, the epitome of a gloating imbecile. “No words from the ever eloquent King Talion?”

  Talion pushed away his befuddlement. “You’ll tell me of your role and Serrina’s in the darkindred.”

  “I will?” A huge grin spread over his face. “Perhaps I will since you are soon to die. I can be gracious, after all.”

  Talion ground his teeth. Eamon was one of the worst kinds of asses—one who thought himself witty. “You are too kind.”

  “That’s what your human dog said earlier in one of…our enlightening conversations. You’re starting to sound alike.”

  A growl reverberated in Talion’s throat, and rage boiled under his skin. If only he could get loose, he’d teach that little…. He strained his wrists against the cord anchoring them behind his back. The rough material bit into his skin but, as before, didn’t loosen a fraction.

  “Now where to start?” Eamon said, making a great production of folding his arms and placing a fist under his chin. “Ah, I know. After Serrina’s dalliance with Andrian, we all know how Andrian left the court and took to a life of thievery.”

  A choked mocking sound came from Andrian, who then bowed at the waist. “Why, yes, thank you for the kind reminder.”

  Talion couldn’t remove his gaze from his bro…Andrian, who regarded Eamon with an intense, crazy glint in his eyes. When Talon had first entered the room, he’d been so preoccupied on assessing Maggie’s welfare he hadn’t given Andrian much notice. Something painful, and he’d believed long gone, caused his chest to constrict. So many centuries had passed since seeing Andrian up close. Other than the yellow eyes setting them apart, they looked disturbingly similar. But he knew as well as any other that darkindred could revert to their original appearance with time, so why did this surprise hold him in its grip?

  Eamon moved toward Andrian, ripping Talion out of his thoughts, and turned that smug smile on Andrian. “No, it is I who should be saying thanks. You made it so easy for me to gain control over you and your darkindred. I never thought bringing down the human-loving royal family would be so easy.”

  Andrian tensed, as did the other darkindred in the room, and said, “I trusted you by letting you into my camp, and you betrayed me. If I could, I’d tear your throat out…with my teeth.”

  All didn’t sound well within the ranks. Had Eamon truly gained power over the darkindred through deception and betrayal? As the possibilities of that struck Talion, his heart pounded. Maybe the darkindred weren’t as loyal to Eamon as he feared. If so, could he sway them to his side? Did he want to? Darkindred were little better than animals. His gaze ghosted over to a wary Maggie, and in that moment, he knew he’d ally himself with any evil if it would save her life.

  Eamon let out a derisive guffaw. “You haven’t so far, why would you now?”

  “Oh, you know why,” said Andrian, a ferocious look entering his eyes.

  “Then you’d do well to remember it, darkindred.”

  Talion frowned. Eamon and Andrian appeared to be engaged in a staring standoff. While this normally wouldn’t bother him, he found that his impatience to know the full tale came to the fore. “While this is very informative, I’d like to hear the rest of the story before I die.”

  Eamon rubbed his hands together and strode back to Talion. “We’re getting to the good part, so it would be a shame to kill you right now.”

  Talion almost replied but forced down the urge. He wanted the damn story, and verbally sparring with Eamon wasn’t the way to get it.

  The fool continued on with his tale. “So where did I leave off? Oh, yes, Andrian and his bandit group of men. Would you believe who came to them and offered them repentance?” He paused. “No answer? Well, I’ll tell you it was your precious veil in the guise of an old woman. Aistiane is what she called herself.”

  Talion’s mind spun, and he nearly stumbled forward. Only the sentries’ grip on his arms stopped him from falling to his knees. Surely, Eamon wasn’t twisted enough to lie about the veil? If he weren’t, the idea of the veil taking on the form of a woman was staggering—mind-altering, even. Throughout the ages, his people had reported seeing manifestations of the veil. Since there weren’t enough witnesses to back up their accounts, though, most dismissed the sightings as due to flights of fancy or imbibing too much alcohol. Talion had always been of a like mind.

  He glanced at Maggie, and though she appeared concerned over his reaction, she didn’t look at all astonished about what Eamon had revealed. Had the traitor already told her? He’d find out later if…once they got out of here.

  “You look surprised,” Eamon said. “So I knew something the great Talion didn’t. In fact, I knew several somethings you couldn’t even have guessed at.”

  The traitor’s gloating sparked Talion’s anger, but he contained it. Eamon held all the power…for right now. The longer he could keep the fool talking, the more likely it would be that he could find an opportunity that might offer freedom.

  Talion recovered his voice, though it came out hoarse. “Tell the rest.”

  “Aistiane came to the rebels and offered them a way to redeem themselves. They agreed to the terms.”

  Astonishment roared up Talion’s spine. Andrian had been willing to redeem hi
mself? His younger brother had always looked up to him, yet envied his position and power. This was what brought about his prideful sibling’s downfall. That he could have been trying to make things right…. With a deep exhale, Talion pushed away these thoughts for later and asked, “And what terms of Aistiane’s were those?”

  Eamon’s face twisted into a sneer. “They were to find complete bond mates for the unbonded in Eria.”

  Why was that so distasteful? “What grudge did you have against that duty?”

  “Because they were to find those bond mates in the human world,” Eamon spat.

  There were others who had human bond mates? As Talion’s mind took in the repercussions of that statement, he knew he didn’t abhor the idea as much as Eamon must have. And even Talion could see the potential pitfalls. It was this fear that had eventually driven him to bond with Relian’s mother. Knowing he had a human bond mate waiting for him at some later date was one thing—accepting that fact had been much harder.

  He hadn’t made peace with it until Maggie had landed in Eria. To be fair, “making peace” wasn’t quite the right term. One simply couldn’t do that with Maggie involved.

  Talion nodded to Eamon. “Knowing of your great hatred for humankind, I’m sure you took exception to Aistiane’s terms.”

  “Of course. They”—Eamon glared at Andrian and Alanon—“needed to be stopped.”

  Talion’s mind worked feverishly to put everything together. So Eamon had interfered and, in doing so, took control of the newly formed darkindred? Talion shook his head. The arrogance of the idiot. Though Talion didn’t know the whole tale, one thing was clear. How could Eamon not see it, or was he turning a willingly blind eye due to his hate? “Did you ever stop to think there might’ve been a good reason the veil tasked them with this job?”

  “Good reason? To bring humans here?” Distaste coated Eamon’s voice.

  A bitter laugh escaped Andrian. “Eamon doesn’t care that he’s destroying our world. All he desires is power and revenge.”

  Eamon rounded on the darkindred leader. “Destroying our world? Ha! I’m saving it.”

  “From what? From being overrun with humans who would allow the magic to return?”

  “Eria’s magic needs renewal, and humanity was our key. Instead you corrupted the magic that would’ve allowed us to find these humans.”

  Talion stilled the air in his lungs. He didn’t dare breathe and miss one word.

  “We don’t need humans to renew our magic. The veil overstepped its bounds and didn’t know what it was doing.”

  Andrian’s brows lowered as he glared at Eamon. “You’re a fool if you believe that.”

  “You better watch your mouth, darkindred.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  Eamon raised his right hand, palm up. “Oh, I might not be able to do much to you unless I kill you, but the young ones are another matter.”

  Puzzlement seeped into Talion’s bones. Young ones? Was Eamon holding some kind of emotional blackmail over Andrian? It had to be something like that. Otherwise, what else could control Andrian to this degree? He’d never been pliable to anyone’s influence, except for Serrina’s.

  Something within Andrian seemed to quell before he said wearily, “Well played, Corrupter. You win again.”

  Something that felt remarkably like sympathy exploded in Talion’s gut. He knew what it was like to be weighed down by responsibility. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Why didn’t you ever come to me?”

  Andrian rocked back and forth on his heels and regarded him with serious eyes. “No one would’ve believed us, not even you.”

  Talion opened his mouth to deny Andrian’s words, but he couldn’t force the words out. Andrian was right. No one, least of all Talion, would’ve believed him at the time.

  Eamon’s cheerful voice cut in, “I’m sorry to draw this touching little moment short, but it sounds like we’ll have company soon.”

  Talion jerked in surprise. The sounds of fighting reached him. Worry burrowed into his mind. His reinforcements were in the tunnels, and he and Maggie were still in Eamon’s hands. He needed to think of something—and quick. Once his men reached the room, Eamon would surely turn desperate. That would make him even more dangerous.

  Eamon withdrew a knife from a sheath at his waist, confirming Talion’s worst fear. “It’s time to take care of you both so I can leave before our guests arrive. You’re lucky there’s no time for a longer death. This will have to be short and sweet—with very little pain for either of you.”

  Chapter 25

  Maggie couldn’t tear her gaze away from Eamon’s knife. Its silver blade glinted from the lit torches on the walls. The faraway sounds of fighting drifted away as her world narrowed down to that one weapon.

  Eamon waved the knife in the air. “Who’s first?” He turned to her and grinned. “How about you?”

  Talion cursed and bucked against the sentries’ hold. “Get away from her, traitor.”

  Eamon froze before slowly turning around. “Traitor?” he asked, voice deadly quiet. “Traitor, when I’m the only one trying to save Eria from the mortal horde?”

  If the situation weren’t so serious, Maggie would’ve broken into laughter. Mortal horde? Where did the psycho come up with this? When Eamon stalked over to Talion, any dredges of humor quickly died.

  Eamon placed the knife against Talion’s neck, and the blade’s tip sunk into the sensitive skin. A bead of red popped up, followed by another bead. Her stomach rebelled, and she placed a hand over her mouth. Nothing, though, would stem the nausea.

  Her heart tried to jump through her mouth, and panic filled the space left in her chest. He couldn’t kill Talion. She wouldn’t allow it. How could she distract him?

  With a shaky voice, she called out, “Eamon, you’re a creeper. You’ll always be one and could never be half of the man the king is.”

  As she’d hoped, Eamon swung around. He bared his teeth at her. “Talion’s nothing. A traitor to his people. Consorting with humans is a disgrace. His dear wife is probably watching in anguish from the Sacred Isle.”

  A low moan came from Talion. “Maggie, don’t,” he said. She ignored him. She couldn’t stop now.

  Maggie marshaled her emotions into a somewhat stable state. “She’s dead. I doubt she cares.”

  “She was his rightful wife. He should’ve soul bonded with her and has only proved himself an imposter since he bedded you.”

  “It wouldn’t have worked. The full bond would’ve failed, dummy.”

  Rage tightened his face, and dread slithered up her spine. Oh shit, she’d done it now.

  With a few quick strides, he loomed over her. Fisting one hand in her hair, he jerked her head backward. The vulnerable skin of her neck was fully exposed, but he didn’t place the knife there. Instead, he caressed the flat side of the blade over her cheek.

  The cold steel wrung a shudder from her. Her idea of distracting him suddenly didn’t seem so bright. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see as Talion shouted and slammed his body against the sentries fighting to restrain him.

  “Damn you, Eamon, get away from her.” Talion’s chest heaved as he spoke. “You have me. Let her go.”

  “I can’t do that.” Eamon drew the knife along her throat and left a line of pain in its wake. “We wouldn’t want her telling tales, now would we?”

  Maggie dared to hardly breathe. So far, the cut didn’t feel deep. No telltale warmth indicating blood sliding down her neck. She’d like to keep it that way.

  A snarl left Talion’s mouth. “Relian was too merciful for not ordering your death when you attacked Calantha. I’ll gladly tear you to pieces.”

  When Eamon’s attention focused on Talion, the pressure of the knife’s tip lessened, as did his grip on her hair, so she moved her head back into a normal position. Her throat stung, but she squashed the urge to check out the damage. She wouldn’t give the ass the satisfaction.

  “
Relian merciful?” Eamon said. “More like weak, so unfitting of a prince. But what else could be expected from a lover of human filth?”

  “Hey, idiot, I’m not dirty.” Once the words were out, Maggie groaned. Damn it, why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?

  Apparently, Talion thought the same because he threw her a warning glance. “By Eria’s damnation, woman, are you trying to get yourself killed as quickly as possible?”

  His words gave her pause. Did she really want to hasten her death? If it would keep Talion alive, yes. That’s what this was all about, right? If only one of us can make it out of here, it should be him. He’s a king, and his people need him. I could never be queen without him, not that his people would even allow it. As for the bond, surely, Talion’s strong enough to fight the worst symptoms of a broken bond—insanity and death?

  Eamon’s lip curled into a sneer. “I’ll fulfill her wish of a quick death.” He shook his head and looked at Talion. “Why did you take such scum to your bed? Were not our elvin women good enough for you?”

  Talion settled his gaze on her. The love and sincerity in his eyes temporarily quelled her terror as he spoke. “No one can take the place of my bond mate, no matter how many kind and beautiful elvin women there are.”

  She swallowed against the heavy feeling in her throat. Yes, she’d made the right decision, and in the long run, he’d be fine without her. She had to believe that. Else her composure would desert her, and she’d lose it. This all couldn’t be for nothing. Giving her life had to ensure his continued existence.

  “You’re a poet now, Talion?” Eamon mocked. “Who knew you had it in you? Too bad you’re going to have to watch your love die in front of you. Think of it as penance for loving one such as her.”

  Eamon grabbed her arm. With a movement quicker than the speed of light, he brought the knife up a few feet above her heart. Her gaze ghosted to Talion’s. She wanted to see him, not the dagger, as she died.