She was insane to allow herself to be tempted. Twice he had openly invited her desire, and each time she had managed to pull away, but she didn’t know how long she would be able to resist what she wanted. She rarely allowed herself to want. Being left at the monastery by her father had taught her early on that what she wanted rarely mattered, and her education within the monastery walls furthered that lesson by teaching her that wanting anything for herself only led to disappointment after disappointment. There would be no happy ending for her if she forgot that lesson now. Her life was shadows and death, her joys tied only to the duty that fate had given her.
Gods, she was tired of the endless duty. Of having nothing to enjoy for the sake of her own enjoyment and nothing more. Could she embrace such pleasure and a glimpse of some kind of happiness while it lasted without letting bitterness consume her?
Casting a furtive look in Ashul’s direction, she bit her lip. He was whispering something to Deroxas, but, feeling the weight of her gaze on him, his violet eyes shifted to her with wicked glint that sent warmth creeping deep into her belly.
Perhaps the greater question was, if she didn’t pursue this and grab what she wanted with both hands while she could, would she have a lifetime of regret to suffer afterward? The last thing she wanted was another regret, wondering what she missed by being too reluctant to reach for it.
During her early years in the monastery, she had been offered an opportunity to escape with a young guard stationed there. She hadn’t been in love with him, nor he with her—though he had felt a sort of sympathy for her situation that drew them closer—but had explored her budding desires safely in his company until the day he was reassigned. He had wanted to smuggle her out of the monastery and help her find her freedom before he left, but she had been young and too afraid to face the world alone. For years she had wondered what her life might have been like if she had left then before she passed her trials and was permanently marked. Eventually, she had moved past it, acknowledging that she might never have found happiness in that life either.
She had a feeling that she might mourn the missed opportunity even more this time. There hadn’t exactly been many opportunities for joy or real pleasure in her life since the day her powers bloomed.
Licking her lips, she considered how to broach the matter. Should she just come right out and say it, or wait for another moment where he might make his move—if he did. What if she had already missed her chance? If she voiced those desires it would open her up to mockery, but if she waited she might never have another opportunity given to her if he decided not to pursue the matter further after the second rejection of his advances. She sighed, hating how indecisive and weak this whole thing made her feel. She hadn’t had a problem making a decision since she left the monastery to wander the world alone. Every decision had been hers and hers alone, so why was she panicking now?
Because whatever happens, I will have no one and nothing to blame but myself.
She grimaced. It was a true shame that she had never been particularly graced with self-deception. It would make it easier to whine rather than being forced to collect herself and decide.
Might as well just put it out there.
Ungluing her tongue from the roof of her mouth, she slowed and turned toward the drow, but movement caught her eye and she paused to squint in its direction. A warmth settled behind her as Ashul stopped, his body crowding in close as he too peered in the direction that she looked.
“What in the world?” she murmured and took a step forward only to be stopped by the warm weight of Ashul’s hand landing on her shoulder.
“Wait,” he rumbled quietly in her ear. “They have been following us for a while.”
“Who has?”
“Watch.” Straightening, he raised his voice as he called into the trees in front of them. “Come out now. We know you are there—you can cease this game.”
A giggle exploded from the trees, and five children slowly popped out of hiding, their distinctive elven features so similar to the drow’s. Varying from a deep, warm brown to a pale moonlight hue, each had a pearlescent glow over their skin that was distinct from human complexions if their long, pointed ears peeking out from their hair failed to inform an observer. Though they did not venture closer, Robyn could see a willowy girl half-hidden among the taller four boys surrounding her, all of them wearing expressions of amusement and curiosity.
“Elves! I hadn’t heard that they were in this forest,” she observed, her brow knotting.
The drow laughed, the sound warm and full of amusement, though not with its usual bite of mockery. “We make our territory boundaries clear for those who know how to look for them—and we passed into theirs some miles back—otherwise our magic is quite capable of keeping our presence and cities hidden.” He tipped his head. “Though there are those who somehow manage to stumble onto our abodes. We drow have had the occasional inconvenience of an ogre and other cave dwellers finding us at times.”
He suddenly dropped the bag from his shoulder and dug into it, drawing one of the carefully wrapped loaves in a special sack at the top. He squeezed her shoulder in a silent command to stay put, and she watched in surprise as he walked forward, calling out in the language she had heard him singing in. The children peered at him curiously, one of the boys grabbing ahold of the girl’s hand protectively as they watched, but none of them showing a bit of fear as he carefully set the wrapped loaf on a fallen tree before backing away and joining her again.
The oldest boy’s ears twitched, and he said something in a soft voice that Robyn couldn’t hear before he bounded over to the tree and snagged up the bread. His bright blue eyes shifted from Ashul to Robyn and back again, and a wide grin suddenly stretched across his face. He shouted what might have been a greeting before tearing off back toward the other children. With wild giggles, the children disappeared back through the trees with their prize.
“There, that should keep them from causing mischief,” he chuckled, re-shouldering the bag. “No doubt they will stuff themselves with bread and report back to their parents what they have observed.”
Robyn glanced up at Ashul questioningly. She had no real experience with children at all since they all seemed afraid of her, much less elven ones. “Should we be worried that they’ll now be aware of our presence here?”
His gaze slanted down at her, and the corners of his lips curled. “Do you really believe that they would have allowed their offspring anywhere near us if they were not already aware of our presence and knew we were not a threat?” He scratched at his jaw and sighed. “You must be bad for my image if wood elves do not see me as a potential threat, but I suppose any drow traveling with a human will be perceived as such.”
“Such a pity that your reputation of being a terrible conqueror is not following you about like a beacon,” she commented dryly, irritated that he had failed to tell her. She pulled away from him and continued along their path. “Forgive me if I don’t weep with disappointment. I think I would rather be marked as unthreatening.”
“That is wise,” he remarked to her back. “Not even I would care for the alternative: an elven arrow in the back, especially not from a wood elf.”
He effortlessly caught up with her, his precipitous grin and the sparkle of laughter in his violet eyes nearly making her stumble. Her indignation faded, despite her best effort to hold onto it, and she shook her head at him.
“You’re a menace. I hope you realize that.”
“It is a good thing that I am also your protector,” he replied, his eyes brightening further with amusement. “I may be a menace, but little will tempt to steal you away while I am on watch.”
“What?” Robyn slowed and frowned in confusion.
He suddenly rounded on her, backing her against a tree, trapping her there, his nose brushing her neck as he drew in her scent with a deep intake of breath. Something shifted in his eyes, a smoldering heat warming them as he looked up her, his lips tantalizingly close.