Surrender, Book 3 The Elfin Series Page 24

  “Whatever the outcome, we will face it together, as we have always done.” His voice was a calm presence in her tempestuous mind. She was so thankful that she had Tamsin. They had lived several lifetimes full of joy, pain, sorrow, and love. Through all of it they had been side by side supporting one another. She wanted that for Elora and Cush. Lisa had been robbed of that life when Steal was taken. She had been overjoyed that Elora would get to have what she did not. For Lisa to have to watch her child lose that future was more than Syndra could bear. She prayed that would not happen.

  Cush closed his eyes and let his soul take over. Call to her, he told it. He held his breath as he waited, hoping against hope that she would answer.

  I feel her, his soul said. She hears me but she cannot answer. Something is preventing her from doing so. Cush knew it had to be the dark spell’s lingering effects. She was drifting further and further from him and he didn’t have a clue how to hold onto her.

  He could hear the chanting from the elder and Syndra but their voices sounded far away. His whole world was lying on the bed, in an old rundown motel room, dying because of the selfish and greedy man. He wished he could resurrect Tarron and kill him again and then repeat the process all over. Dying one time was too kind for the dark elf; he deserved much more suffering.

  He thought back to the fight between him and Tarron and felt his gut churn as he remembered hearing Elora crying out on behalf of the male who had captured her. Selfish as it was, Cush didn’t want her to die when her last words had been for another male. If she was taken from him, he wanted to be the last name she spoke. He knew that she didn’t really want Tarron, but it still hurt to hear her concern for another.

  It can’t end like this, he thought to himself. They needed more time. He needed more time. By the grace of the Forest Lords, please let this spell work. Please.

  Lisa’s eyes blurred as tears filled them. Her daughter was grown, maybe only eighteen, but grown nonetheless. She’d been through more trials than most would ever go through in a lifetime. Despite this, Lisa still saw her as the baby she’d held in her arms the day she was born. The awe and wonder of seeing a little life that was a part of her had been beyond overwhelming. She had stared down at her daughter, so new and vibrant, and pictured the life that was ahead of her. Never in a million years had she thought it would come to an end so quickly. No parent should ever have to watch their child slip away. It went against the order of things. It was supposed to be her dying first. Lisa should be the one slipping away. She was the parent and that’s just the way it was. But there she was, watching the body before her take shallow breaths as the life continued to drain from her body. She watched this and couldn’t do a damned thing about it.

  The chanting stopped, pulling Lisa from her thoughts as she turned to look at Syndra. The light elf queen’s eyes were on her daughter. Her jaw clenched tightly as she waited. Lisa was afraid to look back at Elora. She was afraid she wouldn’t see what she was hoping for. It was almost as if not looking kept hope alive. But after what seemed like an hour, Syndra turned and met her eyes. The despair she saw in them took her breath away.

  Grief crashed down on her like a turbulent storm and drove Lisa to her knees. She heard Oakley call to her but she couldn’t decipher his words. The only thing she knew was that a piece of her had just died. A life that she and her love had created had been ripped away from her before its time. Elora’s life had only begun. There was a whole, incredible journey before her and, like a thief, death had stolen her before she could even take a step toward it.

  When she’d loss Steal, Lisa had been sure that she would never be happy again. But the light that shined from Elora and Oakley had kept the darkness of his death at bay. Now one of those lights was gone. That pain was so very different than the pain of losing her mate. It was a pain that was drenched in failure. As the parent it was her job to protect Elora and she had failed. She didn’t know if there was any coming back from the pit she was falling into. Elora, her daughter―fierce yet kind, strong but vulnerable, dry and yet so very humorous―was gone.

  The sudden emptiness robbed him of his breath. Cush’s eyes snapped open as he heard Lisa’s cry, and he fell to Elora’s chest. There was no rise and fall, not even a shallow one. She was still, completely and utterly still.

  Cush couldn’t move. He could only stare at his Chosen, willing her to breathe, silently begging her to sit up and snap at him for no reason, but nothing happened. She was gone. She had left him to face eternity without her.

  Cush leaned forward until his forehead rested on her stomach. He didn’t feel her fingers in his hair or hear her heartbeat speed up the way it did when he touched her. There was no soft sigh from her beautiful lips or whispered words of love. He would only experience those things in the recesses of his mind. Every future touch, taste, scent, or smile would happen only in his thoughts from the memories that would haunt him.

  His shoulders began to shake as those very memories bombarded him.

  “The one time a guy lies on top of me and he isn’t even interested.” He heard the words in his head and felt his eyes widen. Realization rushed in—his touch, her thoughts, his mind. Cush nearly shoved her away from him in his hurry to stand.

  He leaned closer to try and hear what she was mumbling and nearly laughed when he finally deciphered it.

  Over and over Elora muttered, “Goth girls don’t cry, goth girls don’t cry.”

  She jerked her arm back with a frustrated growl. “No worries, I won’t force you to marry me. I’ll get over you.”

  “So you’re telling me that you don’t want me, but nobody else can have me either?” she asked

  “Are you trying to tell me you don’t carry a quiver?” He leaned down next to her ear and whispered, “No, Little Raven, I don’t carry a quiver. I wield a sword.”

  “But now you see how freaking amazing I am and you just can’t see yourself without me?”

  “I didn’t ask to be your Chosen either! I didn’t ask to feel this way about you. I didn’t ask to feel empty when you leave the room. I didn’t ask to feel the breath be ripped from my chest when you look at me. I didn’t invite the freaking fluttering butterflies with their flapping and swooning into my stomach, and I didn’t ask to want you with an intensity that—frankly—can’t be healthy. So you can take your little temper tantrum and shove it up your ass, Cush. BECAUSE I DIDN’T WANT THIS EITHER!”

  “I won’t let you go, Elora. There is no breaking up, or divorces, or whatever other silly things you humans do when you tire of your mate.”

  “No worries, love. I kill my men when I’m done with them.”

  “Okay, okay,” he chuckled, “then I’m done running and you are mine. For eternity, Elora, you are mine.”

  The memories kept coming, one after another: his refusal to admit he wanted her, her rant putting him in his place, their first kiss, their first declaration of love.

  They threatened to suffocate him but he couldn’t turn them off. They were all he had left and with each recollection he felt as though a knife was being stabbed into his heart and twisted until the muscle was completely shredded.

  With his head still against her stomach, he slipped one arm underneath her and wrapped the other around her waist pulling her closer to him. His tears flowed freely absorbing into her shirt as one by one they fell. Cush felt his soul cry out only to be returned with silence, and it brought on a fresh wave of grief. The world around him was gone. He was drowning in a sea of despair without the hope of rescue because the only one who could save him was gone.

  Cassie stood with wide, tear filled eyes as she watched Cush wrap himself around Elora. She had started toward the bed but Trik had stopped her. “He won’t let her go. And he will most likely become violent with anyone who tries to touch her. You will have to say your goodbye from a distance.”

  Cassie didn’t like it, but she understood. She understood because she knew Trik would be the same way if it was her lying in that bed. So she
stood at the foot of the bed and cried for the friend she’d lost. She cried for the future, they had always planned together, being taken from them both. She cried for Cush and the anguish she knew he was in. But most of all she cried because the world had been robbed of this incredible person who brought laughter and love and passion to everyone and in everything she did. The world would never get the chance to experience the enigma that was Elora: the half human, half dark elf, but wholly wonderful person. Moments ago she’d still been breathing, there’d still been hope, but now, now she was still.

  “I didn’t get to tell her about her father,” Trik said softly. Cassie immediately felt guilt fill him.

  “She wouldn’t have held it against you,” Cassie reassured and she knew it was true.

  “Still, I needed to apologize not because I expected forgiveness but because she deserved it.”

  Elora deserved many things, and death was not one of them. Cassie clenched her teeth attempting to hold herself together. She didn’t want to fall apart with Lisa there. Elora’s mom was already grief stricken. She didn’t want to add to that with her own sadness. She leaned against Trik and let his silent presence give her strength, and she was thankful that he was so strong because she had never before felt so very weak.

  “You know he will not leave her on his own,” Syndra told her mate. They stood in the furthest corner of the room watching Cush. Her own heart was breaking as well, but Syndra didn’t have the luxury of breaking down. Someone had to take charge and it fell to her and Tamsin. Trik was needed by his Chosen, Oakley and Lisa were in no state to think clearly, Tony wouldn’t last two seconds against an enraged elf warrior, and Vyshaan seemed to be in shock over the fact that the spell had not worked. They were the only ones who had a chance in hell of getting Cush away from Elora so that they could tend to her.

  “I don’t understand it,” Tamsin said keeping his voice soft.

  “Understand what?”

  “Trik and Tony killed Lorsan, Cush killed Tarron, no more Rapture will be produced, Cassie’s parents are safe, all of these challenges have been conquered, and yet this is the result.” He motioned toward Elora. “I know in war there are casualties, warriors die. That’s just part of it. But this, a young woman with so much ahead of her, this should not have happened.”

  Syndra wrapped an arm around him and leaned against him. “I agree, but it has and now we must figure out some way to live with it.” To some she might sound cold, but Tamsin knew her. She knew that he understood her need to be doing something, to be moving toward a goal. And in grief, moving forward meant beginning the healing process. It wouldn’t happen overnight, or in a week, a month, or even a year, but if they could accept that Elora was gone, then at least they could begin moving in the right direction.

  “I don’t know that Nedhudir will be able to accept that.” Tamsin was focused on the warrior that he’d known for millennia. She looked up at him and she could see the warrior’s pain reflected in her mate’s eyes.

  Before Syndra could respond she, along with everyone else, fell to her knees. The once warm, stagnant air was now cool and vibrant as it filled the room. The grief that was nearly suffocating began to lift, and in its wake, comfort and compassion seeped in.

  Syndra couldn’t move, but she wasn’t afraid, not anymore.

  Cush lifted his head as warmth flowed over him. He was surprised to see that everyone in the room save him were on the floor on their knees with their heads bowed. They didn’t seem to notice the light that was emanating off of the three beings standing on the opposite side of the bed where Syndra and Vyshaan had been.

  Keeping Elora’s hand in his, he started to slide off of his chair to kneel.

  “Stay where you are, warrior,” one of the Forest Lords told him gently.

  Cush returned to his seat and bowed his head. “Have you come to take her soul?” His voice was calm, though on the inside he was anything but.

  “We told you once before that it was not Elora’s time. The dark spell that was cast over her should have been destroyed when our daughter Syndra cast out the demon that inhabited these lands. However, it was not, because, Chamani, the demon’s conduit lived on. We have reached out our hands and taken the life of the one who took the life of one of ours. Our wrath has been satisfied and so we have come to return that which was taken.”

  Cush watched in complete awe as the Forest Lords leaned over his Chosen. She was bathed in their light; her once pale skin glowed with the signs of life. They each laid a hand on her head and spoke as one. “Wake, daughter. There is more work for you to do. Wake and be healed.”

  As suddenly as they had been there, they were gone, taking their light with them, but they left something much more beautiful behind.

  The breath rushed out of Cush as he felt Elora’s hand squeeze his own. Her chest began to rise and fall as the life the Forest Lords had given her brought his Chosen back to him.

  “Cush.” The sound of her voice filled every empty place inside of him. He felt her soul reach for his and he lost it.

  Cush buried his face in the space between her neck and shoulder as fresh tears flooded his eyes. He felt her fingers glide through his hair as she pulled him closer. His arms wrapped around her and though he tried to be gentle he held her tightly to him. He could hear the chaos going on around them, but still he held on keeping her sheltered by his larger form.

  “You were gone,” he told her through their bond because he didn’t have the control to speak out loud.

  “I’m here now,” she said gently.

  “You were gone,” he repeated because the grief was still so near. “And I was alone.”

  “You are mine, Nedhudir, and I am yours. We will never be alone again, not in life nor in death.”

  His body shook with adrenaline as reality crashed into him. His Chosen, Elora, his little raven, was alive.

  Chapter 17

  “Life is so fragile. Yet if you treat it like a breakable trinket, placing it on the shelf for safekeeping, you might as well have thrown it against the wall and shattered it, because either way you will have ceased to have lived.” ~Cassandra

  “Marry me.” Cush’s voice filled the mostly dark room. The only light was from the candles that he’d lit when they had entered. Elora had known something was up when her warrior had brought her into the romantic atmosphere with that mysterious smirk plastered on his usually stoic face.

  A month had passed since she had laid on a bed in a dirty, run down motel room and died while Cush held her. Elora didn’t remember anything during the time she had been lying there lifeless, but she remembered everything before. There had been many late night discussions as she tried to come to terms with how she had acted and felt while under the dark spell. Through his memories she had felt how painful it had been for him, and Elora felt like she needed to fix it somehow. Yet he kept telling her that there was nothing to fix because nothing was broken.

  “And I will say it again if I need to,” he told her having picked up on her thoughts. “Let it go, Little Raven.” Cush lifted her chin to look up at him. “It was a trial that we endured. It is a part of our past. I’m talking about our future. Marry me.”

  “Are you asking or tell me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you always be this demanding?”

  “Yes,” he answered again.

  “That could get annoying,” Elora said as her eyes narrowed on him.

  Suddenly she was on her back with a very large light elf warrior hovering over her. His broad shoulders blocked out anything beyond him and he was all she could see. Cush’s eyes held a fierce emotion that she’d only seen when he looked at her.

  “I won’t live without you. We belong together and I want all of you. I want to give you all of me. You have been raised human and I know your custom is to marry your mate before you become one. Don’t make me wait any longer, Little Raven. End my torture and marry me, please.” His deep, rich voice glided over her like the softest silk, wra
pping her in his spell. How could she deny him, not that she wanted to, but honestly what woman could say no to that?

  Elora continued to search his gaze. She had no doubt that Cush loved her and she loved him. She had no doubt that she wanted to be with him for the rest of her life, no matter how long that it was. “What about my dark side?”

  His lips kicked up in a crooked smile, making him look even more dangerous as his hand glided up the outside of her thigh to her hip and then to her waist where it stilled. His fingers tightened, gripping her possessively. “I told you before, I’m happy to indulge whatever you need. When I say you are mine, I mean all of you, dark side included.”

  “Okay then,” she said as she ran a finger down his strong jaw.

  Cush’s brow rose as hope beamed back at her. “Okay then, as in yes?”

  Elora nodded but stilled as soon as his lips pressed to hers. The world around her melted away as he became her only reality. She didn’t hear the knock at the door, nor did she care if the whole world was watching. All that mattered to Elora in that moment was the man who had captured her heart and showed her just how amazing it was to be needed, wanted, cared for, and chosen. Though she had been destined for him and him for her, he’d chosen her as well. Cush had made it clear time and time again that he would choose her above all others, protect her, love her, sacrifice for her, and shelter her.

  “Either she said yes, you’re trying to convince her, or you lost a Jolly Rancher down her throat.” Syndra’s voice managed to penetrate their little bubble. “If it’s the first, get your butts up and let’s get this over with and then you can pick up where you left off.”

  As Elora’s brain began to work again the she elf’s words sunk in. “What is she talking about?” she asked as she pulled back to look up at him.