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“Better,” I tell her, not admitting how weak I feel. I know I need to heal fast. The dark elves could pick up our trail at any time. The maze of tunnels and caves that run through this area is our only hope if they track us down.
“Here, eat this,” she says, handing me some dried fruit. “There is no meat, I’m afraid.”
I take it and try some, but the stuff is vile to my taste. Spitting the mouthful into the fire, I hand the rest back to Sierra. “That’s disgusting,” I tell her frankly. “I don’t know how you humans can eat anything like that.”
Sierra laughs at the face I make. It is a beautiful sound. The radiance that flows from her lights up my heart and warms me up inside. I find myself chuckling, too.
“Well, I don’t know what we’re going to feed you,” she says. “I hope you don’t change your mind about not eating humans,” she adds.
I am shocked that she could think such a thing, and then I notice the smile at the corner of her mouth. “I could be tempted.” I laugh and lean in close in order to sniff her.
She squeals with laughter. I don’t think I have ever heard such a wonderful sound. It makes me do it again just to hear it.
“Help,” she calls, slapping ineffectually at me. “Help me!” Her cry for help dissolves into more laughter as I start to nibble on her exposed leg. She squirms out of my grasp and feigns terror as I pull her back in.
For a while, we lose sight of all our cares and worries as we romp. This new game is delightful, but before long, my heart pounds in my chest with the exertion of effort. My injuries are worse than I care to admit.
She stops wriggling and regards me from under her long, dark lashes. “Let me look at you,” she says gently. “You are still far from healed.”
“The poison on the elf's magic blades runs deep,” I say. “But I am healing, and now that my body has cast out the poison, I will heal faster.” My words are said to reassure her, but I am far from convinced they are true. The ache from my injured shoulder is terrible. Every time I move, I can feel the corruption within.
“I hope it’s fast enough,” she says. “I may need to go out and collect some more wood and try to find food before long.”
“No,” I say, instantly feeling concerned. “I forbid you to go outside alone.”
“But I could collect herbs to help you heal,” she says. “And then when you’re healed, we could go together.”
“No,” I say with more force. “It is too dangerous for you alone.”
“Okay,” she says, looking crestfallen.
I know she just wants to help, but the thought of something happening to her fills me with dread. “Promise me,” I demand.
“Okay, I promise,” she says. She smiles and touches my cheek. She looks like she wants to say more as she looks at me.
I sink into the bottomless blue pools of her eyes. She is the most infatuating creature that I have ever seen. Tears sparkle on her cheeks as she caresses mine. It confuses me that she cries and yet smiles at the same time. My heart tells me it is because she loves me, and the very idea sends white-hot flames running through my veins.
‘Love.’ The word lingers in my mind. Is that what this is? Is this the feeling I have deep within my chest? This overwhelming sense of protection that I have toward her? I know that if anything happened to her, I would go out of my mind. She is my world, my destiny.
My life before her was just a shallow parody of living. There was only an instinct to survive before Sierra fell into my life. I knew when I first encountered her in that clearing that she was special. That she had run into my hands for a reason.
Is this it? Was it to teach what ‘love’ is? As I stare into her eyes, I do not doubt it. I would kill for her. I would die for her. I want more than anything to protect her and spend the rest of my life with her.
She opens her mouth. “I…” she says but does not finish.
I take her into my arms and put my mouth on hers.
We kiss for what seems like an eternity. There is nothing in this world but Sierra. She is the center of my universe.
She wraps her arms around me, pulling at me, needing me, demanding I bring her in closer. But her groping hands send lances of pain dashing through my shoulder, and without meaning to, I flinch and growl.
She pulls back, panting. “You’re still hurt,” she says, concerned.
“Yes.” I sigh. I like her caring for me. “But none of that matters when I’m with you.”
“At least let me look at your wounds.”
“Okay,” I reply, lying back.
