Surrender, Book 3 The Elfin Series by Quinn Loftis
Cush growled. “What does your heart tell you? What is your soul screaming at you? Do you really think you feel anything for that man?” He pointed to Tarron. “Think about who you are, Elora. Is he really what you would pick for yourself?”
Elora turned to look at Tarron. “I, I don’t. . .” She looked back at him and her mouth opened and closed several times. The next word from her mouth nearly shattered his already broken heart. “Cush.” It was nearly imperceptible and to a human it would have been, but Cush wasn’t human. His elf hearing picked it up just fine.
“Yes,” he nodded reassuringly. “That’s what you call me.”
“Elora, don’t listen to his lies. He simply wants to confuse you,” Tarron barked at her as he reached for her. He wrapped his hand around her forearm and pulled her closer to him.
Elora’s eyes squeezed tightly closed and she reached up to grab her head with her free hand. “I remember things, but they don’t seem real. It’s like I’m watching someone else’s life.” Her head snapped up and her eyes latched onto his. “Cush, you and I.” She motioned between them.
Cush nodded, his heart thudding painfully in his chest as he waited for her to have the revelation she needed that would drive her back to his arms.
“Why?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why me? We shouldn’t have ever been together.”
“You remember?” Cush asked hopefully.
“I remember,” she told him as a single tear ran down her cheek. “I remember all the reasons we should never have been.”
It was enough he decided. His patience was worn thin. He was ready to have his Chosen back by his side, safe, and no longer being touched by a dark elf who was tainted by the Voodoo queen. He was ready for her mind to be clear and not full of lies. “Elora,” Cush pleaded with her as she looked between him and Tarron. She looked so lost, so confused, and it broke his heart. “Look at me, Little Raven. Look at me and focus only on me.”
She turned her head and met his gaze. He could tell she was truly beginning to question what she thought she knew. The anguish that swirled in her eyes nearly drove him to his knees. He needed to kill something or someone. He needed to make everything okay, to make her feel safe and protected, but how was he supposed to fight something he couldn’t see? The spell that held her in its thrall had wrapped itself around her mind and twisted her emotions. Her soul wanted him, he could see it, but her mind was telling her that Tarron was her mate.
“He’s my kind,” she told him. Her voice was unsteady, as though she didn’t really believe what she was saying. “I’m a dark elf; he’s a dark elf. It makes sense. You and I,” ―she motioned between them again― “we don’t make sense. We never made sense. In the beginning you didn’t even want us. So now you have an out.”
Her memory was obviously returning, but she wasn’t seeing things with her own eyes. The spell was coloring her thoughts. Cush’s blood was boiling inside of him as her words hit him one after another like bullets being fired from a machine gun. And just like those bullets could, her words ripped him apart. She was right to some degree, but not about everything. In the beginning, he hadn’t realized how much he would need her and want her. He’d been a fool but it hadn’t taken him very long to figure it out. Once he’d realized just how amazing she was, he had grabbed onto her with both hands and he refused to let go.
“I think she’s made her choice, warrior,” Tarron chuckled as he looked at Cush. The words Cush could have ignored, but that damn chuckle had broken the final thread that had been holding him in check.
“Oakley, now!” he yelled as he lunged forward and pushed Elora out of the way. He tried to be gentle, but he was counting on Oakley to catch her and take care of her. He could tend to her after he’d eliminated the fool who’d attempted to take her from him.
Once Elora was out of the way, Cush was in front of the dark elf, with less than a foot between them. Cush didn’t even think about what he was doing as his fist flew and connected with Tarron’s face. He could have used magic, but he needed to feel flesh beneath his hands. He needed to feel his opponent being broken. Tarron stumbled back from the impact but Cush wasn’t done, not by a long shot. He threw punch after punch, each one connecting with its target. Every ounce of rage that he’d kept tamped down had risen to the surface and was now pouring out of him from his fists. Cush didn’t even feel any pain as he connected over and over. He punched Tarron in the stomach and heard the crunch of ribs. He followed this up with a right hook and heard the snap of the dark elf’s jaw. The sounds of his prey being destroyed only egged him on. Tarron thought he could just take what did not belong to him. He’d tried to take Cassie but instead had ensnared Elora and, though she wasn’t who he’d originally sought, the dark elf had become fixated on her. He was a bigger fool than Cush gave him credit for because he honestly thought he would get away with his schemes.
“Stop him, Oakley! He’s going to kill him!”
Elora’s scream barely registered with him. Her appalled tone made him want to rip Tarron limb from limb. How dare she attempt to protect the snake who’d slithered his way into her mind and played with her emotions! Cush tried to remember that she wasn’t in control of herself, but it didn’t make it sting any less that she was attempting to shield another man.
Tarron attempted to fight back but his movements were clumsy and slow. Cush grabbed him by his throat and slammed him into a tree causing the trunk to crack. He stared up at the beaten male and was disgusted by what he saw. The sound of Elora screaming at him to release the elf only disgusted him more.
Cush turned to look at his Chosen. Oakley was restraining her as she attempted to get closer to them. He reached down deep for every ounce of self-control, but it didn’t stay his tongue. “You think you want him. But you belong with me.” His eyes narrowed as he held her stare. “Your soul knows it, but your mind has forgotten. I assure you, you will get over this.” The crack echoed across the room as Cush quickly twisted his wrist breaking Tarron’s neck. Cush watched the body fall to the ground as Elora’s screams played in the background. He didn’t turn around to look at her. He wasn’t sure he could handle watching his female mourn for another man, spell or no spell. Cush’s body vibrated with the rage that hadn’t yet been burned out. Killing Tarron hadn’t been enough. Images of the dark elf’s hands on his mate rushed through his mind and he felt bile rise up in his throat.
“CUSH!”
It wasn’t his name that finally drew him from his dark thoughts. It was the utter desperation in Oakley’s voice that had him turning with inhuman speed. His eyes landed on Elora who moments ago had been standing, pleading, and cursing him. Cush felt his stomach roll and his heart stutter. The air rushed from his lungs as though he’d been kicked in the gut, and his foot stumbled back under the imaginary force.
“What’s wrong with her? Dammit, Cush, what the hell happened!” Oakley continued to yell but his words were not important.
Nothing was important, nothing but her. The world around him faded away and his vision narrowed in on her. His Chosen’s still form lie prone, half of her on Oakley’s lap and the other half on the floor of the swamp. He didn’t remember moving as he knelt beside them and took her body from her brother.
“ANSWER ME!” Oakley continued to shout.
But he couldn’t answer the boy. He was sure if he opened his mouth the only thing that would come out would be a tortured cry that echoed the cry of his soul. In that moment, there was no part of Cush that wasn’t in utter agony. He was attempting to hold himself together, though all he wanted to do was cave in under the despair that was swallowing him. He couldn’t help Elora if he lost it. Cush leaned down close to her mouth. It was faint, but he felt her warm breath on his cheek. She was still alive, but for how long, he didn’t know.
“Don’t you dare leave me, not again,” he growled at her through their bond as his hand turned her face toward him. Dirt smeared her cheek and clung to her clothes. Her skin was cool and her lips were growing paler. An
Cush didn’t understand it. She’d been fine, other than her memory being jacked up. Only a few moments ago, she’d been perfectly okay. What had changed?
“You’ve been successful, warrior.” A cool voice spoke from behind him. The elf looked up to see Oakley staring at something, or rather someone, just over Cush’s right shoulder.
“Oakley,” Cush said softly. When he didn’t respond he snapped his fingers in his face finally gaining the boy’s attention. “Here, hold onto her.” He carefully laid Elora’s body back in her brother’s lap. He stroked her cheek gently before finally standing slowly and turning to face the interloper.
He wasn’t surprised to see the old woman standing there. Her attire, and the many trinkets hanging from her body, revealed her quite clearly as a servant of the Voodoo queen that ruled this swamp. The queen had already come to him once and explained her plan; it only made sense that either she or one of her priestesses would check up on him.
“But then my queen not be thinkin you be havin any trouble.”
“Who are you and why are you here?” Cush asked, attempting to keep his voice even and calm.
“I am Chamani. I am a part of this here land. You and yours be guests and guests must play by de rules.”
“Do the rules include this?” Cush said, pointing at Elora lying motionless on the ground. Cush took a step toward the old woman. “Your queen,” he nearly spat the word at the priestess, “did not mention that when I killed Tarron it would affect Elora. Is that part of the rules, to not share all of the information?”
“Would it have changed your actions? Would you not be killing the man who put de spell on her?”
“He didn’t put the spell on her on his own, He had help. Perhaps, that one also needs killing,” Cush threatened as his eyes narrowed.
“My queen not be answering to you. She need to keep de balance. You played yo part in de plan. Whatever else happens not be her concern.”
“BULLSHIT!” Cush roared. He very rarely lost his cool, but then he’d never faced the possible death of his Chosen until now. “It is her concern now.” He held out his hand and out of nowhere a bow materialized in it along with a silvery arrow. He nocked the arrow and aimed it at the old woman. “Will she protect you, Chamani? Will your queen, whom you have served so faithfully, keep my arrow from piercing your heart?”
“If dat is to be my fate, den so be it.”
The old woman didn’t seem phased in the least at the possibility of dying. So be it, Cush thought as he let the arrow fly.
Lorsan’s breath froze in his lungs as he felt his gut clench and his heart stutter. His soul screamed within him, screamed for his mate. She was gone—that was the only thing he knew that could cause this kind of pain.
His knees hit the ground just as he came face to face with his Chosen. He clutched a travel bag in each hand, one containing the Book of the Elves. Ilyrana’s eyes were gleaming and she had a smug look on her face. His mouth dropped open and he blinked several times to make sure his eyes didn’t fool him.
“How are you here?” he asked, his voice breathless with the pain he was feeling.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I just felt…it felt like…like I had lost you.
She laughed. She actually laughed. “You must have been mistaken love, as you can see I’m perfectly fine. So since I answered your question, perhaps you can answer mine, just where are you running off to, my love?”
For a moment he wasn’t sure what to think, but her question reminded him of his current situation. “The Forest Lords,” he gasped. “They were here. They told me my fate was set and that I could do nothing to change it. I won’t go down without a big damn fight.”
“Fate?” His mate practically spat the question at him. “Since when do you believe in fate? Haven’t you always told me that we make our own destiny?”
“Regardless, if I’m going to die it will be by my choosing and definitely not at the hands of the humans attempting to break down my door. We have to go. Now!” The dark elf queen could see panic in her Chosen’s eyes.
“Lorsan, listen to me.” She placed both hands upon his shoulders. Then she said the only words that could distract him from making his escape. “Calm down. I’ve done it, my king. Our troubles are over. I’ve found an elder. I know the secrets of the book,” she whispered, almost desperately, lowering her head and looking directly into his eyes. “Some of them anyway. The rest he will give up, once he’s been properly…persuaded.”
“You…you found one. Who?”
“Vyshaan.”
“Vyshaan? I…I…haven’t seen him in years,” Lorsan responded. “Where? How?”
“He’s been right here under our noses this whole time,” she almost giggled, “hiding out at Rezer’s place. The light elves led me right to him, just like I thought they would.
That devil, Rezer, hiding an elder. I couldn’t believe it at first. By the way, we will need to take care of that elf soon, my love. He has some very powerful secrets. Secrets that could hurt us if we don’t attend to them.”
“What secrets?” Lorsan asked, a look of disbelief on his face.
“Nothing we can’t handle, now that I know how to decipher the Book. Come, love.” She took his arm and guided him back into his office. “We have much to do.”
A muffled noise reached the office. Apparently there was some commotion down on the casino floor.
“Yes, yes, very much to do,” Lorsan said distractedly. Already her old Chosen was returning to himself. If he’d heard the commotion going on downstairs, he made no note of it. A broad grin was beginning to spread across his face. He tossed one of the bags aside haphazardly. The other he placed on his desk, unzipped it, and then gently pulled out the ancient text. He placed it softly on the desk and then looked up at his Chosen, his beautiful Chosen, that had somehow pulled off a miracle.
“Ilyrana, my beautiful, powerful, lovely queen, you have been so faithful all these years, ruling by my side, but this—this is your most outstanding accomplishment. You are truly a worthy dark elf queen.”
The beautiful dark elf giggled lightly. “Lorsan, you flatter me.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d thought she might actually have blushed. That was something he hadn’t seen in a very, very long time. He could tease her about that later. Like she said, they had work to do.
“Where is Vyshaan now?” he asked suddenly curious as to why she hadn’t brought the elder with her.
Just then more noises came from outside the office. Several people could be heard shouting. It seemed that the commotion had not been contained to the casino floor.
“Damn those accursed humans,” Lorsan muttered. “Sometimes I wonder why I even bothered to try and enslave them. They are so taxing.”
“He’s in one of the holding cells,” Ilyrana continued, ignoring her mate’s comments and answering his original question. “And so are the light elf king and queen. I didn’t want to risk dragging Vyshaan through the casino. He is just as powerful as we remember. It took all my strength and five of my best elves to subdue him. He won’t be easy to break, but I think we are more than up to the task.” She gave a light chuckle, enthralling him with her sensual smile. “I was able to get a few bits of information from him before he passed out,” she continued. “Sit, lover. Let me show you what I’ve learned.”
He dropped into the chair behind his desk and she went and stood beside him.
“Now,” she said, opening the book to a random page, “Vyshaan told me the key to deciphering the stories comes from a very complex code based on our own ancient Elvish alphabet. You see these large curly letters at the end of each paragraph? Each of these corresponds with a letter of our alphabet.”
“Of course, of course,” he whispered peering closely at the book. “But which letters of our alphabet correspond to which letters of the book?” He leaned down, staring, unblinkingly at the letters on the page before hi
Ilyriana moved behind him and began rubbing his shoulders as he studied the pages.
“Well that is the most vexing thing,” Ilyrana said lightly, as if she wasn’t actually in the least bit vexed. “You see, Vyshaan told me that only an elf that was pure of intentions could decipher the code. Even knowing how the code was deciphered, an elf with evil intent will be unable to determine the corresponding letters.” Standing behind Lorsan, she began to massage her Chosen’s arms and shoulders even deeper, attempting to relax him. “This is because the Forest Lords designed the corresponding letters to continually shift from one to another. A letter in our alphabet, say the letter ξ, for example, might mean ‘R’ in the human alphabet one minute and ‘T’ the next minute. Ingenious really.”
“Ingenious?” Lorsan roared. “This is terrible!” The dark elf pounded the table in frustration. How are we supposed to decipher the book if the meanings of the letters keep changing?”
Ilyrana walked around to the front of the desk.
“Well that’s the thing, Lorsan. We aren’t going to be able to decipher the book.”
“What are you talking about?” he said, voice and eyebrows both raised. Lorsan attempted to stand but found his body welded to the chair. His upper body seemed permanently affixed to the back of his comfortable leather chair. He thrashed about but couldn’t break the magical hold.
“What the?” he growled. “What have you done, Ilyrana?”
“Ilyrana? You think that witch is pure in her intentions? As if―” Then a bright light began to radiate from the figure before him. In a twinkling of an eye, where before stood his beautiful Ilyrana, now stood, shimmering in all her glory, Syndra, the light elf queen.
“How did you do this?” Venom laced the king’s words. “Why couldn’t I sense you? I should have…I should have been able to see through your glamour.”
Syndra leaned across the desk, placing her face mere inches away from the dark elf as he struggled against the invisible bonds.