Dark Love

Part 78

What the fuck?

Saera stared wide eyed into the brown gaze staring back at her so earnestly and couldn't help protesting wildly. "But you hate me!" She declared. "You always have."

It had been her who stared on googly eyed at Nick while he scorned her puppy love every step of the way. Now that she'd saddled herself with not one, not two but three ferocious beasts of a husband, if he thought he could just waltz in and declare her his he had another thing coming.

She frowned heavily at him ignoring the threatening growls that echoed through her thoughts with every word Nick uttered. At this rate her head would be pounding painfully from a discord that was not entirely hers.

Nick frowned at her. "You were witch. Your path forward was decided on birth. You could only marry another of your kind. I was no wizard. My father warned me to keep my distance from you. He warned me not to get attached. That one day you would belong to another." Nick stared down at her with molten chocolate for eyes.

Saera unconsciously licked her lips.

"I did what I could to distance myself from you. But," he sighed, shrugging helplessly. "Here I am still."

Saera frowned. "You have a girlfriend," she reminded. Then muttered under her breath," One who would tear me apart limb from limb if this got out."

Nick reached out for her hand. His fingers cool and smooth as they glided over her skin, caressing as the settled against her palm, holding her tight. His breath caught in his throat, bracing for what he had to say next. "I followed you home that night. On the eve of your birthday. The night your mother told you of her plans to wed you. I hung outside watching you pack your trunk. I saw your anxiety. Your apprehension. Your-."

"Wait. How did you see? How did you get onto Shore land. It's warded." Saera narrowed her eyes, incredulously.

Nick sighed. "It is warded, yes. But not  from me."

"I don't understand." She shook her head.

"Saera... Sara... Saera," he whispered her true names. "I am Elven."

"What?" She shook her head again. This time earnestly. Trying to clear the sudden ringing in her ears. Sure she was hearing things.

"Yemin anark Rlvenne," he murmured again, this time in Elvish. "Half Elven."

Her gaze shot straight to his ear. To the rounded tip that didn't in the least bit look Elvenish.

He smiled. The corner of his lips twisting up with amusement. But he ignored her searching gaze and the unspoken pointed question in her amber glint gaze. Instead, he went on to explain. "Your wards cannot hold me back. My mother was full elve. She as you know died when I was young. Full elves don't live beyond forty. Their lives cut short by disease. It is why they came here in the first place. To save their race from dying out. But the wars between races wiped them out. The few survivors that remained went into hiding. My mother had been one of the last few full elve."

Saera stared at him open mouthed, not even realising at what point in his explanation her mouth had fallen agape. "Elve," she breathed out, stunned. "But," her eyes once more swept to his ear. Only this time she saw it. The pointed tip, no longer concealed with glamour. Saera gasped.

"My mother," said Nick, his eyes tightening with pain. "... had always been ill. It was why father went into illegal potions trade. Witch brewed spells kept the worst at bay for as long as it could. It also concealed her appearance and mine too. Hiding our identities from the rest of the world. From those who would hunt us into extinction."

She gulped.

"I followed you that night." Nick returned to the night before her her wedding. His eyes glittered with almost violent sparks recalling that night. "It was already past dawn when we got to the church." He paused to look at her. "I'd never seen you look so ugly before," he said honestly. "That dress was horrendous." He shook his head with a grimace, recalling it.

Saera opened her mouth to protest but then shut it with a grimace of her own. It had been ugly to look at. But she knew better now than to judge a dress just it's looks. That dress was a dream.

"I had not intended to intervene." Nick continued. "I just wanted to see to your safety." He paused to gulp down the sudden dryness to his throat. Flexing his hand around hers, making her aware that at some point, her own had wrapped about his. His face contorted with remembered rage and his fingers tightened about hers almost painfully before wrenching  free. He stepped back a pace breathing hard.

"They were animals," he whispered hoarsely. His tone agitated. His features anguished. "Brutal in how they took you. I had to do something. I had to stop them." His gaze turned pleading as he looked at her before narrowing with sudden anger. "But you didn't fight back. You wanted it. You wanted their brutality." His hands clenched into fists as he took a menacing step forward. "Do you know what that felt like?" He demanded, his eyes darkening with molten rage. "Do you know what it felt like to see the woman you love, taken like a whore? To find her loving every part of it?"

Saera stared back in horror. Her face drained of all colour as she recalled back that blur of intimacy, that had happened exactly as he described. Her features tensed up at the pain swirling within the depths of his gaze. And she tongue tied over how to aliviate that pain.

"To find her begging for more?" Nick demanded. His face a hairs breadth from her own. His eyes accusing as they stared down into her own.

"To find her not only willing and wanting but soulmated to another." He whispered this last brokenly. "They left you there. Unconcious. On the floor. Like you meant nothing. Like you were nothing." His face tightened again and this time his tone turned pleading. Desperately pleading.

"I had to see if you were okay." He reached out his trembling hands to cup her face. He stared down into her tawny green eyes searchingly. "I had to go to you." He flicked a tongue over his lips, his eyes suddenly darkening with memory. "But I proved to be no better than the princes when I did."