Page 17 of Stolen

After a few minutes of rest, I pushed away from the tree and continued walking. Igrith had given me a pack with food, water, extra clothing, and blankets. She’d also tucked a knife in my pocket. Her hazel eyes had tipped toward green as she said, “If anyone threatens you, don’t hesitate. Kill first and feel bad about it later, but at least you’ll be alive to feel bad.”

A smile tugged at my lips. I touched my fingers to my mouth, remembering her kiss—and the way she’d tensed when she confessed her attraction to women. I didn’t know if I shared her attraction, since desire was a byproduct of feeding. But I admired her strength—and her unwillingness to bow to the wishes of Rhys and her father.

Not unwillingness. Arrogance.

I froze. Because the thought was loud and clear, but it wasn’t my own. Was it? I didn’t feel that way about Igrith. I liked her.

Hate her. The thought came quickly, like a thunderclap after lightning.

My mouth went dry, and my heart started a frantic dance. I stifled my thoughts, struggling to empty my head even as my mind wanted to spin with speculation.

Leaves rustled behind me.

I was afraid to turn. Afraid to run. Afraid to stand still.

With my heart in my throat, I slowly turned.

Three elves stood shoulder to shoulder a short distance away. They were male, and each one was as beautiful as the others I’d seen. Long hair spilled over their shoulders. Each wore rich-looking cloaks. Their eyes glowed in the darkness, bright gems that sparkled in pale, angular faces.

Stupid. I was so stupid to come. I had no plan, just borrowed power that would run out eventually. I reached for it, willing the light to flow under my skin and into my palm. It came so much easier this time—and I knew it was Igrith’s blood that made it so. The small sphere dazzled in my cupped hand, its light spilling onto the forest floor.

I lifted my chin. “I come for Varick of Lar Keiren.”

The elves said nothing. The one in the middle had dark-blond hair. He gave the light a withering look before meeting my gaze.

I looked at the elf to his right—and remembered too late that I shouldn’t have looked away from the first one.

Behind me, something growled. The sound started low, rumbling the ground. Then it climbed…and climbed, going so high-pitched it sounded like a whistle. My ears ached, and I fought the urge to hunch my shoulders in a bid to block the sound. It didn’t seem to bother the elves, who remained utterly still. When it cut off at last, my ears felt like they’d been stuffed with cotton.

Sweat trickled down my back. The light on my palm dimmed. Over my shoulder, a branch snapped. Something was coming—or it was already there.

The trio of elves watched me. The one in the middle flicked his gaze to a spot behind me.

“If you see an elf, don’t look away.” I couldn’t turn around. Desperation rising, I tried to picture a brick wall. But black wings of panic battered me, and the only thing I could picture was my dead body on the ground. The sphere of light shuddered and almost winked out. However, more hovered under my skin. I could always summon another ball.

Always?

Maybe not forever.

No, not forever.

I whimpered. The thoughts weren’t mine, but the voice inside my head sounded like me. If the elves could make me see things that weren’t real, maybe they could tamper with my head.

The growl sounded again. Hot breath coasted over my nape. I screamed and spun around.

And came face to face with the blond elf who, just seconds ago, had stood before me in the opposite direction. Impossible. He couldn’t have moved that quickly.

His mouth stretched in a wide smile. The corners of his mouth curved up, stretching far too high. His teeth changed, shifting into serrated spears that glinted in the forest’s dim light. He lunged forward and snapped his jaws an inch from my face.

I screamed again and stumbled back. Rough hands gripped my arms and wrenched them behind my back. Without my hands, I couldn’t call up Igrith’s light. High-pitched laughter rang in my ears.

The blond elf’s face returned to its former state. “You come for Varick of Lar Keiren?” He shook his head. “No, little sister. You come here with stolen power.”

Terror clutched me in sharp claws, but I didn’t miss his words. “I’m no kin to you, demon.”

Rhys’s features smoothed over his face, and when he spoke, Rhys’s brogue colored his tone. “Aye, and more than you know.”

The laughter echoed in my ear again.

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