Page 16 of King

He moves his hand to my jaw and tilts my face up to meet his gaze. “It was not your fate if it didn’t unfold. Fate always gets what it wants. You were never meant to be the Prime’s mate. You were meant to make this beautiful pup with me. And to escape… with me.”

He’s right. We’ve faced some difficult things already, but none of it has been in vain. Something precious has already come from our suffering. Perhaps we have more blessings in store for us.

I decide to create a small one right away. Taking advantage of his closeness, I lean in and press my lips softly against his.

A wave of excitement crashes over me, igniting a warmth I thought I’d lost. One that I don’t need to be afraid to show. As I move back, I let my smile bloom for him to see.

His own smile follows as he turns his eyes to the little bundle in my arms. He gently takes Vaegon from me and snuggles him up to his chest with one arm. Then, he slips his hand behind my head and presses our mouths together again.

He bites my lips and licks my teeth, letting his tongue roam free. I shiver as the desire I’ve suppressed for so long rushes through my veins once again.

At first, I buried it because I thought he had used me. Then, I stifled it further, convinced he had rejected me. When I was taken, I tried to let it die, thinking I’d never see him again.

But now, I think it’s finally safe to fall for him.

Durin pulls back to take a breath, but I lean in and pull in a lungful of the comforting scent of crescent nuts and fresh-cut wood. All the hurt and fear begin to fade. I wonder if Mother was onto something about scent matches.

I pull the washing cloth from my binding and run it along his neck, where his scent is strong. Then, I tuck it away, feeling a sense of security having part of him to keep with me.

Durin kisses the top of my head and takes my hand. “Let’s get somewhere safe. If this little guy stays asleep, I can give you a lot more of my scent to carry around with you.”

I cover my face as if the dryads can see me blush. If they do, they don’t comment on it. They just start the rustling back up, urging us to move forward.

We walk for quite a while, our soft conversation blending in with the sounds of the trees. Durin fills me in on everything he’s learned. What stands out most to me is the alchemist. He’s already found a way to help the mixed fae. Could he one day find a cure for our son’s bloodlust?

Hope fills my heart as we walk, guiding me toward the future and away from the wounds of my past.

Durin stops suddenly, tugging me to a halt. “I know where we are,” he whispers. “But how? This isn’t the way I came before.”

Before I can ask where, a tranquil voice falls from the sky and settles over me like a fluffy cloud.

“Of course it isn’t.”

I gasp when a pale, fae-like figure appears seconds after the voice fades. He’s tall and lean and strikingly beautiful like Durin. He also has similarly pointed ears. Yet, there’s something distinctly different about him. I just can’t put my finger on what.

White, silken hair falls down his back, while dark, piercing eyes contrast sharply with his pale complexion. He wears a long tunic that looks almost like a robe. It’s made from the softest-looking green fabric I’ve ever seen. But it’s somehow humble, like it’s spun from simple yarn that anyone could afford.

I’m not sure how long I stare at his ears before the realization sets in–he’s an elf.

Anelf!

My heart stutters as I behold what has always seemed like a myth. I’ve never seen an elf before. I’ve only heard stories shared as entertainment at pack gatherings. But they’re no myth. Elves are obviously quite real.

I realize I’m grinning foolishly, so I quickly lower my eyes and bare my neck in reverence. He’s no shifter, but hopefully, he’ll understand it’s significance. Especially if he’s angry over our presence here.

“What do you mean,Of course it isn’t?” Durin asks, unfazed by the mystical creature. “This place is nowhere close to where I found you before.”

“An elf is only found if he wishes to be,” he says. “The dryads led you to me, just as they did last time.”

“Last time?” Durin asks, frowning in thought. “They were certainly being more subtle then.”

He must be the one Durin told me about. I steal a glance at the elf who I suspect our son is named after and jump when I find him looking directly at me.

“Who is she?” he asks.

“This is Rue,” Durin says, still proudly holding my hand. “And this…” he adds, giving the elf a mischievous grin. “This is Vaegon.”

Chapter 6

---