Page 28 of Elves and Espresso

“Not you. No, not someone as common and flawed as you.”

I would almost be offended at his words, except I remained quiet in hopes he would continue. He looked past me and a wistful expression filled his gaze. He sighed, almost as though he was a forlorn lover, missing someone in days gone by, and if he hadn’t done all the cruel things he had done in his reign, I would have felt sorry for him.

If I hadn’t felt such complete and utter hatred, such contempt, I might.

“What happened?” I dared to ask, almost frightened of what his response would be. He could lose himself in a heartbeat, and then I would pay for prying into his heart.

“She died.”

There was no bitterness, no anger. There was nothing in his voice but tragic and heartbreaking loss. And that sweet voice Nilsorn possessed that could hold such power over anyone he spoke to gripped me so deeply, it should have made me sick. I should have turned away in disgust. I should have taken that moment of weakness and dug the dagger that was sheathed in my bag so far into his soul that even the afterlife would not find him.

Instead, it intrigued me. Instead, I yearned to know more. Instead, I sat there and waited for the words I knew he would speak, because I could see he was lost in a world of his own making.

What could have possibly happened to transform a love-sick Nilsorn into a sable that wreaked havoc and led the realms with such destruction and chaos? What could have turned Nilsorn into a creature who haunted the very places he ruled?

“She was sick,” he whispered. “She had the dark shroud.”

I froze. The very same sickness that took hold of my mother, so evil, so cruel, that it released none of its victims. It was a cruel servant of death seeking to take any life it deemed worthy.

“She was perfect. She was everything someone ought to be…” He took a deep breath, and I could hear the agony in his voice. “And then, she was not.”

I remained silent, wanting to see if he would say more, but all that was around us were the sounds of the forest. I didn’t want to offer condolences; I didn’t want to pity this sable. I didn’t want to feel anything about his situation…yet, I did.

“I understand how you feel.” It was the best I could offer.

His head whipped in my direction as he glared. “You don’t. You barely knew that human.”

“I didn’t mean that,” I continued. “My mother died of the dark shroud.”

He watched me for some time, as though pondering where we would go from here. “We must continue walking.”

“Tell me.” It wasn’t that I wanted this conversation to continue, I just wanted to delay the inevitable. I just wanted to belong to myself for a few moments longer before I became his for the rest of my days. “Was she perfect for you because she brought out the best in you?”

He met my gaze, his eyes more sorrowful than I’d ever seen in a soul. “She was the best in me.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

If you had once told me that the most cruel Realm Guard this universe had ever seen would captivate me, I would have laughed you out of Coven Haven. Nay, I would have laughed you out of the entirety of Wylionis. Nilsorn’s words were uttered so heartbreakingly, that I cursed the dark shroud for destroying such a man. For as complicated as this situation now was, I felt something for him that I never expected to.

Pity.

I pitied the sable standing before me. A creature who had likely sparkled once from the hold love had on him, who now had a heart so black, it would crumble to dust should he ever perish.

The images of losing my mother flashed through my mind. The sallow sinking of her skin. The suffocating cough that encompassed her. The way she breathed her last breath, as though there would never be anything as sweet as oxygen as she moved on from this life. The day we said farewell to her body and left it in the temple where it would be taken care of for the next life. There was no crueler way to pass than by the grip of the dark shroud. And there never would be, even as I stood facing the dark being I would spend my life with and likely pass next to.

“Did she leave anything behind?”

His eyes whipped to me, the spell of her nearly broken. “Our possessions were shared.”

“I meant inside you. You say she was the best in you. Is any part of her remaining in you? To mourn so deeply, so passionately…surely, it means there is a part of her still deep within.”

I couldn’t read the look in his eyes, but he walked closer to me. He was mere inches away when he stopped. A hand reached up to gently stroke my cheek, softer than I expected, and I held my breath, not knowing if I should speak again.

“I hope to be reunited with her.”

I felt the crinkle on my forehead as his words washed over me. “What do you mean? You wish to perish?”

“No.” His eyes were sharp and clear, the haze of mourning gone. “But they say those who possess the shard of a star can find ways to live forever.”