Your mare neighs her protest as if she senses your feelings.
“I’ll have your name, Commander,” you say with veiled hostility.
“Teänir Mason,” he says.
You turn to him. What?
The shock of hearing his name rolls through you first. For some reason, you didn’t really expect him to give it so easily. Maybe this is part of his plan. Trick you into compliance. You roll your eyes at your thoughts.
It seems that he’s always one step ahead of you.
How will you ever get out of this?
And you’ve lost everything dear to you. Everything that’s meant something to you. Your blade, your only home, your friends back home. At least the few that were still alive after all your battles together. You fear that you’ll never see Aandaris again. Your heart twinges with thoughts of home. A home you’ll never see again.
You glance down at your shackled wrists. He’s taken everything from you. Everything.
“Mason…is your family name? What kind of an elvish name is that?” You scoff.
He doesn’t look at you. His head moves to the left sharply, hearing something in the far distance of the lush, darkened forest beckoning him. You’ve noticed it gets uncomfortably closer with each trot.
A chill runs up your spine, and sweat breaks out over your neck and face.
You don’t want to go in there.
You don’t like the look of that place. The darkness of the forest, the dampness of the murky wood, all the shadows in unexpected places. The unknown waiting for you.
He pins you with his pointed stare again. They hold you captive in a whole different way that you never expected, making your insides swirl with unbidden heat. “That’s because it’s not Elvish,” he says smoothly.
“But, you’re an elf.” You feel silly saying that aloud.
You’re completely confused by this and want to know more. He obviously is an elf with his pointed ears and breathtaking features. He’s not from this land, but he has a common man’s last name? Why? And why isn’t he among his own people?
Why is he here as a Sherinden Commander, keeping you as a prisoner?
He’s the only elf you’ve seen thus far and the first in all your life, that you remember, for that matter!
You have many questions about him. It doesn’t make any sense. You fall silent, waiting and hoping he’ll reveal a bit more.
After several minutes have passed, you’re still burning a hole in his beautiful profile, but then you realize he’s not going to divulge more to you.
Fine. Elvish fiend.
You’d rather be dead anyway than be seen consorting with an elf.
You glance away and focus on planning your escape, but your mind wanders. This land is unknown to you, yes, but there’s something vaguely familiar about it. You can’t put your finger on it just yet.
And as much as you try, you can’t resist sounding his name silently with your tongue on repeat. Commander Teänir Mason.
And you hate to admit this (and you never will admit this to him, even if he tortures you), you like the sound of it.
***
As the sun sets in the West, the Commander pulls his black stallion to a full stop under a grove of large, gnarled white trees at the edge of the forest line. You’re trying hard to keep track of direction in hopes you can find your way back home for your escape.
“We’ll camp here for tonight.” He dismounts quickly with enviable grace.
You stretch your hands high above you or at least try until your shackles halt the full movement. The muscles all over your body ache, and you feel it deep in your bones. “How far away are we from our destination?”
He considers it for a moment. “It’s 10,000 remars, as the crow flies. But a two week journey on horseback.”
2 weeks!
You groan and wrinkle your nose in distaste for the long voyage you’re up against.
With him.
That’s if you even survive it without killing each other.
But you might as well make the best of it while you plan your escape. You press your chest casually, making sure your fork is secure as you move to dismount from your mare.
You mustn’t let him know about it either. That is imperative. And it’s your only advantage right now.
“I–” you begin.
To your shock, his large hands circle your waist, and he helps you down from your mare before you can even stop him. The movement is quick and graceful, catching you completely off guard and shocking you senseless.
Your feet are on solid ground now, so why does it feel like your insides are in a freefall?
He’s so close now, and you can’t help the instinct that takes over. Your gaze flicks back and forth between his eyes and lips until finally settling back on his mesmerizing gaze. It’s like staring at a lush forest after hard rainfall.
Oh no, bad idea.
A warm tingle starts in your belly. It permeates throughout your body, flowing up to your neck and flaming out to your cheeks like dragon fire, overwhelming you.
And suddenly, you’ve stopped breathing.
Leave a Reply