Fated Fortunes

by Angela Colsin

  The path wasn't easy to hurry down either, narrowing in some areas to the point of forcing them to run in a single line. Dalris took up the rear due to Jada's speed, but he managed to keep up, and once they came to a wide ledge overlooking the river valley from fifty feet up, a loud snap sounded above.

  Immediately, both looked to see several larger rocks falling in their direction, and quickly backed away as the heavy debris slammed into the path they'd just taken.

  Once those stones settled, all grew much more silent with the exception of the coming storm rumbling overhead.

  Taking a few deep breaths, Jada glanced from the rocks and back up again, waiting for more footfalls, then inquired softly when none came, “Think it's still up there?”

  “Could be, but if it saw us, we'd know by now.”

  Though she agreed, the two waited just a moment longer to be completely certain they could step out into the open without worry of getting hit by a boulder, or even worse, crushed beneath the giant's feet—the creatures were known to jump long distances.

  So if it'd spotted them for even a moment, it might decide to come down for an inspection.

  But the continued silence suggested this one had moved on, and they cautiously stepped away from the rock wall, feeling marginally better about the situation. Now it was just a matter of making it the rest of the way down into the valley, and as Dalris surveyed the ledge where they stood to locate a new path, Jada turned her gaze up to teasingly ask if he was disappointed they hadn't gotten a chance to have a little fun in a fight.

  But the words never came out.

  Instead, her eyes widened at the sight of a giant now leaping into the air from the ledge directly overhead.

  Her gaze must've told Dalris everything because the moment she tried to push him out of harm's way, he quickly hoisted her up and dove forward.

  The giant came down on the slope behind them only a second afterward, its landing sending a quake through the cliffs. Dirt and debris flew everywhere, and Jada found herself laying against the ground with Dalris next to her, quickly working their way up while the twenty-foot tall female stood straight—and immediately reached out.

  As the giant's furry fist clenched in attempt to snag one of them, the two ducked to opposing sides. In the process, Jada drew her swords, and heard the undeniable sound of an electric current as Dalris' body ignited with energy.

  So she gave the rings on her blades three clicks, causing the metal to spark with the same type of current, and spun around to face her enemy.

  That's when she realized the giant had become enraged at missing an opportunity to catch one of them, and was lifting both fists to slam down into the ground like an oversized toddler throwing a tantrum.

  The blow caused a large crack to form in the floor of the rock ledge on which they stood—putting Dalris in danger of a fall. After their earlier evasion, he'd wound up at the edge, and the crack was spreading between them now.

  Sadly, as the giant stood and shifted to face the draconian, her weight only caused the crack to grow even faster with a quake rumbling through the ground. The ledge was about to break, and just as Jada had the thought, a segment of the rock crumbled away entirely—right beneath his feet.

  “Dalris!”

  The draconian stumbled, and almost got the chance to dive forward. But doing so would've put him between the giant's legs—a risky prospect. At any moment, she could lift a foot and slam it down on top of him, leaving him little hope of reaching solid ground without aide.

  So Jada quickly responded, moving toward the distracted giant's left leg to stab one sparking blade into her ankle and free a hand before darting toward Dalris.

  Their enemy nearly roared in pain, but the sound was cut off when Dalris sent a powerful bolt of electricity into her stomach, causing her to seize up. At the same time, he'd taken shaky steps toward Jada—a tedious process when each one had him stumbling.

  The pounding of her heart was in sync with those faltering steps, and she reached out while desperately trying to make certain she didn't wind up on the falling rocks with him … almost there!

  Finally, their fingertips touched—just as the giant recovered and swiftly snatched Jada in an oversized fist to lift from the ground.

  “No!”

  Still reaching, she watched Dalris drop with the crumbling rocks just as swiftly as her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach.

  But there was no time to even consider the consequences of his fall. Instead, the giant's face came into view, her mouth opening with the obvious intent of having an elven appetizer. Furthermore, she was squeezing so tightly Jada knew she'd be crushed to death before the creature could take a bite.

  Yet the monster hadn't pinned Jada's sword, leaving her with only one chance for escape. So she clutched her weapon tight while crossing her arm over the lower half of her face with a hateful sneer, then grunted and slung the sparking blade forward. Eat this, you bitch!

  The weapon spiraled through the air while Jada's ribs cracked under the pressure of her enemy's fist, which didn't let up until the blade embedded itself in the giant's left eye.

  Screaming, the monster quickly dropped Jada just as she used her duplication rune to spawn two clones of herself. The first rushed up the monster's arm to grab the blade now jutting from her eye while the second appeared near the sword still embedded in her leg.

  Both immediately went to work taking the giant down without suffering from the same injuries inflicted on Jada, which didn't make her landing against the rock floor pleasant.

  Grunting as she hit the ground, she cringed and cradled her side while scrambling away and willing her copies to finish the creature off. Thankfully, it wasn't difficult to accomplish when the first clone stabbed one sparking sword into her neck as the other attacked her legs.

  Soon, the giant was falling onto its back with a heavy thud, causing another quake in the ledge—and thankfully, the ground held at her weight.

  But Jada couldn't relax, and didn't wait for the monster to settle before working her way to her feet.

  As the storm finally caught up, unleashing a deluge of rain, she willed her clones to return her bloody swords, then rushed to the edge of the broken slope to look for a safe way down. Sadly, there was only a steep, rocky path leftover from the break in the ledge, forcing her to skid to the bottom while using her blades to keep her descent under control by stabbing them into the dirt at timely intervals.

  But the pain such movements caused was overridden by her concern for Dalris, which redoubled with each passing moment.

  “Oh goddess, please be okay,” she mindlessly whispered after reaching the shore of the river. Yet, in scanning the valley, she didn't spy a single sign of her companion.

  Had he'd fallen into the water and been caught in the current? Whatever the case, she tried to remind herself that he was immortal, and it would take more than a fifty foot plunge to kill him—unless his head had been crushed in the fall.

  Her heart nearly stopped at the thought, fear as she'd never known it gripping her in an icy hold. She hadn't expected to have such a visceral reaction to the thought of Dalris' demise, but didn't take the time to analyze it, too frantic to find him to care.

  That's when she noticed a bloody hand jutting from a pile of rocks nearby, and had to remember not to drop her sparking swords as she gasped in shock.

  Rushing toward it as quickly as possible, Jada set her blades aside and started clearing the rocks away. Most were fairly small, but heavy enough to cause some real damage if they landed on someone from fifty feet above, and the more she removed, the more of Dalris' broken body came into view.

  Blood stained the shore from numerous gashes and lesions in his flesh, but worst of all?

  His neck was broken.

  Jada cried out at the sight, the unnatural angle of his head a clear sign of the serious injury.

  But … was it fatal? Draconians can't be killed unless they're beheaded, right?

  The frantic thou
ght made it difficult to be gentle as she reached out to straighten his neck in the hopes that it would reset when she touched her sparking blades to his body. But she managed, and with the angle more natural, she grabbed her weapons and pressed them to his chest to allow the electric current to flow through him.

  In the process, Jada realized her cheeks were wet. Is that rain, or … am I crying? She had no idea, and didn't care to find out, holding her breath in nervous anticipation to learn if her swords would revive him.

  But after several moments passed, the various cuts in his flesh didn't close as they had in the grotto. Oh goddess … !

  “No, no, nonono,” she chanted with growing speed, moving one of the swords directly over his wounds. “Please heal!”

  Still, the cuts remained, and Jada nearly screamed at him to wake the hell up—just as his lips parted with a deeply drawn breath.

  His chest rose and fell following that reaction, and her jaw dropped, barely registering when she exclaimed his name. But she didn't stop holding her blades to Dalris' chest, even when his body tensed against the current with his cuts finally mending.

  Vaguely, she wondered if the reason it took so long was his broken neck. Perhaps the injury prevented any signals from his brain to reach his body until it regenerated. But his wounds soon disappeared, and she was so relieved his name broke free of her throat on a sob.

  “That's … enough,” Dalris finally drew out on a raspy voice, though it took Jada another moment to realize he meant her swords could be pulled away.

  Finally drawing them back, she discarded the weapons in favor of helping him to sit up, asking, “Are you okay?”

  “I am now,” he confirmed, and his hand found hers to close around it. “I'm more worried about you.”

  Jada had been so focused on helping Dalris that she hadn't cared to do a mental check of her own body until that moment—and realized she was aching quite a bit. But the healing tonics in her pack would clear away her injuries soon enough, so she didn't consider it for long.

  Instead, her mind returned to her reaction to Dalris' fall again. The amount of dread she'd felt in response to the thought of losing him was stifling, and she had no idea what it meant precisely.

  But she did know how to react.

  Climbing in front of him with her legs parting over his lap, Jada took his cheeks in hand to capture his full attention, then answered his question in the form of a sharp command.

  “Don't you ever do that to me again, draconian!”

  CHAPTER 24

  Dalris didn't complain one bit when he found himself locked in Jada's urgent kiss. But despite the pleasant surprise, he wasn't sure how to feel, particularly when she couldn't hold their embrace for long without cringing in pain due to several cracked ribs.

  The giant had obviously done the damage after grabbing her during their fight—or perhaps he should say Jada's fight considering he'd spent it out of commission.

  The thought rankled. I should've been there.

  Dalris knew Jada didn't need his help specifically, but he could've protected her from injury, and also prevented her from worrying. Though she'd successfully revived him, his fall had scared the hell out of her as she'd believed a broken neck was akin to a beheading.

  Of course, it would've taken him longer to regenerate without the help of her swords, but he would've eventually woken and moved on without trouble. Jada, however, came out of the fight much worse off if only because unmated elves lacked the heightened regeneration draconians possessed.

  So the same fall he'd taken would've ended her life altogether, meaning her current injuries were nothing to scoff at.

  Because of this, he quickly gave her one of the healing tonics packed with their supplies, and though Jada took it without qualm, she insisted they move on despite knowing the potion wouldn't immediately heal her.

  Dalris tried to talk her into resting for a while, but his mate was determined. So he compromised; they'd continue until a good camping spot was located where she could rest before resuming their journey at first light.

  Thankfully, she agreed, reasoning it would be safer to traverse a troll-infested swamp during the day because trolls weren't as active when the sun was up.

  But that didn't make the task of locating a suitable camp site any easier.

  They came across two areas Dalris believed would do the job well, but Jada didn't think either were close enough to their final destination to stop. So they continued moving, and several hours passed before reaching a short waterfall that cascaded over numerous rocky levels in various streams.

  At the basin was a secluded glen, and all things considered, the wooded area was ethereally beautiful beneath the light of Ithelyon's duel moons shining through breaks in the dissipating storm clouds. Tall trees that nearly rivaled the rock walls of the ravine stood overhead with thick bushes and moss-covered rocks comprising the landscape.

  From the waterfall's basin flowed a stream providing a steady source of clean water, and the surrounding foliage offered a natural barrier that Jada took advantage of to change into some dry clothing out of sight.

  She seemed to be feeling better by then as well, but Dalris offered every comfort anyway, starting by setting up their pallets, igniting a fire, and preparing a small meal out of their rations.

  Jada genuinely thanked him for it, and occupied her pallet to eat and read Morwin's tome—an activity that eventually put her to sleep.

  In the interim, Dalris laid back on his own pallet and stared into the fire blazing between them, thinking over their fight in silence.

  Things had gone well in the end. The giant was defeated, and no one was mortally injured. But one fact stood out above all others, and it turned his blood to ice.

  Jada could've been killed after he'd fallen.

  The fact that he hadn't been able to make it to solid ground before the ledge broke simply didn't settle well. He hadn't anticipated the event quickly enough, and his mate suffered as a consequence.

  The guilt he felt over the incident was reminiscent of the way he felt after his siblings were injured on dangerous missions. Seventy years ago, Dalris sent his youngest brother, Ulric, to perform an assassination with Victoria by his side—a routine operation. But only one sibling returned, and for two whole years following that mission, Dalris was unsuccessful in locating his brother.

  The grief had been maddening, just as it was now. What if Jada was killed while he was down, or injured to the point of needing his help when he was unable to provide it?

  The mere idea of her suffering made him sick to his stomach, and though he found her concern for his well being heartening, he didn't feel worthy of it.

  Still staring into the flames, Dalris considered the situation for what seemed like hours. After his revival, Jada demanded he never scare her that way again, and he could only think of one thing in response. I've let her down, and myself.

  He almost growled at the thought. Had he stood on the sidelines conducting his siblings' affairs for so long that his skills had grown rusty?

  It was yet another reason he valued control. There were simply too many people relying on him to as a foundation of strength to allow his draconic temper to influence his decisions.

  Yet now, he wondered if he didn't need to let go more often and get his hands dirty.

  “Mmm, ah!”

  Jada's sudden gasp immediately broke through his thoughtful daze, and he glanced in her direction to make certain she was okay and no longer ailing from her injuries.

  But his mate looked to be sound asleep, laying comfortably on her back, and as he continued watching, she suddenly smiled and giggled.

  “Oh yes … keep going.”

  Dalris blinked. Obviously, the elf was dreaming, yet the tone of her voice gripped him with curiosity. It was suggestive, not to mention breathless. Is she having an erotic dream?

  As he questioned it, Jada drew a hand up over her abdomen, and didn't stop until reaching the swell of her breast. There, her
fingers slowly clenched, squeezing the mound as she sucked in a breath.

  Completely enthralled, Dalris watched, his shaft hardening when her lips parted with a low moan humming from her chest.

  “Oh, you're so … ,” she whispered, and he was keen to hear more, to know what, precisely, she was dreaming about. Could it be … me?

  It felt like wishful thinking, but elves were one of the races that dreamed of their mates during bonding—he just wasn't certain when that process took place.

  Perosians like Isaac had prophetic dreams before meeting their mates, but Jada would've known Dalris was hers long ago if elves worked the same way. Still, she was definitely having an erotic dream now, her back arching in a way that made him wish to gods he was on top of her if only to experience precisely how her body could move.

  Yet her writhing seemed to stir her awake because she suddenly sat up, gasping, “Ah! Goddess, I … ,”

  Trailing as if the waking world was settling in her mind, her chest heaved with several deep breaths, breasts rising and falling in her confining vest. Dalris watched them, and could've sworn his mouth watered when he realized her nipples were straining against the material.

  Yet he didn't move, and shut his eyes to give off the appearance of being asleep when her head turned in his direction, fearing she'd be embarrassed or upset to realize he'd witnessed her writhing and moaning.

  But he soon heard a pained groan, then shuffling, and cracked an eye open to see her silently standing to hurry away from their small encampment in the direction of the basin beyond the bushes.

  Dalris watched intently, wondering if she was truly okay, and found himself getting up to follow as if controlled by someone else.

  But the moment he realized it, he stopped only a few feet from her pallet and clenched his fists. His blood was stirring, muscles tight with the instinctive need to provide for his mate—and gods, the urge was strong.

  Perhaps the thought that she was still in pain was the culprit, or it was the erotic notion that she was sexually frustrated by her dream and needed satisfaction he'd be more than happy to provide. But whatever the case, he wrestled for control by taking a deep breath—and immediately detected a scent coming from her pallet that told him all he needed to know about her current condition.