Page 89 of Tristan
“You are quite demanding for a little human,” Andothair says. “Lucky for you, you amuse me. It is said that once, an Elf long ago, asked the Sex Gods to bind his betrothed to him since, like you, his betrothed was a human. The Elf wasn’t content with a simple bonding by flesh, of course, he wanted his intended to fall in love with him. He prayed to the Sex Gods to make it so. When the Gods refused him, he found a way to command their powers on his wedding night. Each time they had sex, his betrothed fell more in love with him,” he pauses. “What’s the matter, Warlord? You have gone white.”
The legend sounds too much like my own story for my liking, and I can’t speak. Corrik wouldn’tmakeme fall in love with him, would he?
“It’s just a myth, Warlord. The enchantment the Elf wanted is a love spell, which is why the Gods refused to grant his request. No one can evoke a love spell like that. Not even the great, Corrik Cyredanthem.”
I’m not so sure. My heart beats faster.
“Bet you wish you could unhear that, eh?”
“Whatever. It’s as you said, a myth. It isn’t real.” I don’t want to hear any more of this story.
“It is not real. The enchantment I will use on you; however, is very much real.”
“Do you plan for me to become a mindless, sex slave?”
“You are already a mindless sex slave,” he says, laughing. “No. This enchantment will not damage your mind—Baya would be extremely displeased if I were to do that. The enchantment will make you feel loyal to him.”
That doesn’t sound so bad—it’s already somewhat true and I seem more compelled to please him each day.
Sadness washes over me. I’ve fallen in love with Corrik, but not really, only because he performed Elven love voodoo. Andothair may not believe it happened, but I do. I heard the thunder. The sadness is quickly replaced by anger and my dragon blood rages.
“I’ll do it Ando. I’ll give myself to your brother—gladly.”
“All right then. We shall talk details later. You had better go,” he says. “You’re already in for a decent spanking as it is.”
“Ando, can’t you talk to him? Tell him I was out here with you?”
“I could, but I’m not going to.”
Of all the nerve. I stalk off to get Bayaden his breakfast, which has now become his brunch, figuring it’s better not to show up empty handed. I don’t make it to the kitchens; I’m accosted by two of Bayaden’s men immediately upon entering the palace. They take pleasure in dragging me up to Bayaden’s chambers and tossing me inside.
“Bayaden told us to tell you to stay here if we should find you,” he says. They both delight in my dilemma. They know Bayaden is goingto kill me. At least they leave me be, without roughing me up. When I turn toward the room, I see it’s a total disaster.
The entire room has been ransacked. Blankets, pillows, even Bayaden’s beloved books are scattered all ‘round the room. Whole wardrobes are turned on their sides with the clothes ripped out of them. The table is not where it’s meant to be, and the chairs have been thrust at odd angles throughout his chambers. Stunned, I sit down on my mattress which is not where it’s meant to be either and wait.
Bayaden returns and stands in the doorway, angry. His look alone could boil water and saysexplain.
“Bayaden, I only went to get breakfast, I—”
“—where is this breakfast you speak of?”
I scratch the back of my neck under his gaze which reminds me too much of Father when he was displeased with me. “I got distracted. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“You should’ve told me where you were going.”
“You don’t usually care.” I don’t mean to say it. I’m just trying to get myself out of trouble, but now I’ve gone and thrown down a gauntlet. I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. He takes long, quick strides toward me and wraps me in his large arms. I feel the strength of his embrace, he’s grateful I’ve returned. His head is tucked into my neck, and I can feel his hot breath on my ear as he breathes. “I thought you were gone.”
“Is that why your room is a disaster?”
He nods into my neck.Stupid, hot-tempered, Elves.
I know in that moment it’s gone too far with Bayaden. We’ve said nothing to each other, but we don’t need to. I’m forced to admit to myself that there’s chemistry between us and it’s not just one-sided. I care about Bayaden. Perhaps not to the extent he cares about me, but enough I should be honest with him and with myself.
I try to pull away, but he won’t allow it. “Bayaden, I’ve just made a pledge to your brother.”
He rips away from me, a fierce expression on his face like he’s about to hunt down his brother.
“Not that kind of pledge, Bayaden, listen.”
