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Too bad I’m little more than a disappointment.
With transfer season coming up, my father has sent countless karasus with messages on where I should be transferring, what I should be doing, and the like. Just like every year since my first at Camp Horizon.
And just like every year before, I have no intention of following his orders. I won’t leave Layla, I don’t know that I could even if I wanted to. I’ll simply have to find a way to become a lieutenant in Camp Horizon, even if it means usurping the current camp lieutenant so I can take his position.
There’s only ever one lieutenant here at a time, intended to lead us and run this camp and our sister camp on Zerva, hence why no other miou have lingered here for too long. That’s no problem to me, however.
Our current lieutenant is a drunk, and I have no issue with gunning for his job, no matter how long he’s been in his seat. Especially if it means I can stay close to Layla without my family breathing down my neck.
Another problem with transfer season, and another problem Layla and I never speak about, is that there will be new guards entering the fray. Guards that are eager to make a name for themselves, who will keep a closer eye on things. Those who might notice the two of us sneaking off together and cause trouble.
It wouldn’t be the first time a dark elf has been caught with a human, of course. It’s generally accepted as part of the perks for this job by some of the more uncouth miou, but my family would take less kindly to finding out about any sort of dalliance of mine, especially with a human woman.
I can only imagine the position it would put Layla in.
I realize too late that Layla and I have just been standing in silence in the quickly dimming light. There’s a certain sadness in her gaze, something distant that I can’t quite put my finger on. I can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking of the coming transfer season, too.
“Stay the night with me,” I breathe as I hold her gaze. Layla’s face shutters instantly, her eyes dropping mine as they dart toward the mouth of the alleyway.
“I’m already late, my aunt and uncle are going to worry. They might even send Amara out after me,” She says, avoiding answering my question directly. She can’t bring herself to truly say no- she wants to come with me, we both know it.
“You know Amara won’t find us,” I retort, dropping my face into the warm crook of her neck and drawing my nose lightly across the sensitive skin. Layla shivers beneath my touch, her head dropping back slightly in welcome.
“We could get caught,” Layla argues, although her voice is feeble and lacking any real conviction. I graze my teeth lightly over the peek of her exposed collarbone, a purely male swell of pride blooming in my chest at the strangled noise that slips from her lips at the contact.
My obsession with Layla and the looming, ominous feeling of transfer season aren’t the only reasons I’m so intent on making room to have her to myself, although they certainly play a part. No, there’s another reason everything feels more urgent now, every stolen second feels weightier.
Layla’s 24- marrying age. Most human women tend to get married even earlier these days, their lifespans shorter and more pressing on Protheka than they ever were on their home planet. I see the way the men in the village eye her as if she’s some prize to be won, as if she could ever be anyone’s but mine.
The idea of another man with Layla, of her marrying or his hands skating across her curves, fills me with rage. I drown the feeling, unwilling to let my darker nature ruin a perfectly good moment as I withdraw from Layla’s neck and find her eyes.
“We’ve never been caught before,” I say with a grin, my voice rough with my overwhelming desire for her. Layla’s cheeks flush scarlet as her eyes dip to my lips, only making my smile grow wider. She wants me nearly as bad as I want her, a fact that will never cease to make smug satisfaction ripple through me.
“But my family-”
“I’ll send word,” I interrupt her, my hold on myself growing weaker with every passing second her little body is pressed to mine. “I’ll tell them you’ve picked up an extra shift. You’ll be safe with me, I promise.”
“I know,” Layla whispers. It’s all the permission I need as I twine my fingers between hers and tug her down the alleyway, leading us toward the dark elf quarter.
