The Demon and the Elf (Book 1)

Chapter Twenty Three pt 4

A pitter patter of a demon's heart as their breaths mingled, a desperate urge to close the distance. Drokn felt a sort of knot in his stomach as he took in the elf's honest gaze and unfaltering words. For a brief moment, he wondered why it was so difficult for him to speak his truth when the elf does it so easily.

If he had known honesty would get the elf this close to him, maybe he would have spoken so sooner...

The two mingled within their closeness, taking in the moment, yet taunting the other.

"I don't like when your attention isn't on me," Drokn admitted. His deep, rough voice inches away reverberated against Eial's sensitive ears. The demon's gaze continued drifting from the elf's stunning eyes to his equally stunning lips.

Slowly, Eial eased away from Drokn. "Me too," he said, looking to the side, clasping his hands on his lap. "It didn't feel nice when you were not talking to me."

"I'm sorry," responded Drokn, already missing the elf's heat. He stretched the word in a softened hush, the guilt foaming within him.

Eial glanced up at the demon and then brought his focus to his hands where his thumbs dwindled on one another. "I mean, I am happy you are talking and spending time with mother, but..."

Drokn looked up, another unexpected turn to the conversation.

"It felt odd to me that you were talking more to mother than to me."

Again, Drokn's mind was struck with silence.

"Oh! I know it's awful of me. I should be happy. And I am! Aaand—" A small pout formed on the elf's lips. "Admittedly, I felt a little upset."

Unseen by the elf, the edge of Drokn's lips had started to curve as sparks lit his chest. How could his elf be so endearing? In the next moment, the space within the forest was filled with the demon's lighthearted and full laughter. Loud enough that the birds that had finally found a branch to rest on ruffled their feathers yet again at the abrupt boom.

The elf, as well, had faltered against the demon's odd reaction. He examined the demon's sudden relaxed expression, trying to gauge the thoughts of the demon.

"Were you jealous?" the demon finally asked, his amber irises lit with spark.

"Jealous?" Eial pondered for a moment. He thought back to the novels he had read. The novels of beautiful elf bonds and their unfaltering love had no room or mention of jealousy of another. How does jealousy feel? Had he felt it? He truly hadn't witnessed jealousy until he had met the demon who had wanted his powers.

But, perhaps... perhaps he was more jealous, or perhaps more envious than he had recognized of himself. He envied the love of other bonds when he did not meet his own. He envied freshly made muffins when all he had were cold wild fruits frosted over the chilled night. He envied the elves without magic who did not have to hide as he did...

And now, he was envious of his mother who could speak freely with the demon when the demon had spared him naught but a look.

"I suppose I am!" Eial exclaimed, ecstatic to learn something new of himself.

A chuckle left the demon before he stood up and reached his arm out to the elf. As soon as Eial clasped his hand over the demon's, the demon grabbed firmly and pulled the elf up, settling the elf against his chest with a hand on his back.

Bringing his head down, the demon's voice reached close to the elf's left ear. "As much as I'd hate to see you upset, I wouldn't mind hearing about your jealousy once in a while," the demon snickered flirtatiously.

A heat rose in the elf as his rosy cheeks glowed. As if the only way to satiate the burning in his chest, Eial reached around the demon into a tight embrace.

And there they stood, among the scattering hares and chirping crickets, seeking comfort to their emotions within each other's warmth.

The two had stayed in the unfamiliar space, keeping one another company. Not an intentional stay, however. After the two had talked and Eial's mind had calmed, a rush of fatigue overtook him. Not only had he been practicing teleportation spells just prior, which takes a great deal of energy in and of itself, but the elf had teleported the two far away, the distance which Drokn assumed gauging by how weary the elf had become.

Truthfully, the elf could have made another trip back and taken a nap once they'd settled. However, the elf was eager to have a moment with the demon to himself to make up for the time he had been ignored. As for the demon— he had nothing to complain about the idea.

The two were tucked close to one another. Drokn sat with his back against the sturdy bark of a tree and the elf sat between Drokn's leg, his back against the sturdy chest of his bond. Perhaps from all the physical training the demon had been through, his chest was stiffer than the elf remembered. And secretly, he missed the softness.

Recalling their conversation, a deep breath in, Eial leaned his head back. "You're so silly, Drokn, worrying about such a silly thing."

"Silly—"

"Your goal has always been my priority. It's been my purpose. It was my fault anyway that you had lost your title."

Astonished, Drokn sputtered, "What? You— have you been thinking this the whole time?" But as soon as he finished, he recollected the events that seemed so far ago. When he'd just been exiled. When he'd immaturely taken out all of his frustration on the elf.

It seemed as if every memory he recalled of himself with the elf from the past was stained. As if he was a different person. As if he needed desperately to search for an excuse to ease the burden from the guilt he faced from the memories.

Of course the elf felt at fault this whole time.

The demon had blamed him so.

Sighing heavily, the demon wrapped his arms around the elf and rested his forehead against the elf's shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he breathed, a hole in his chest and brows cinched deep.

"Why are you sorry?" the elf asked, genuinely puzzled. And that only hurt the demon more.

"It's not your fault I was dethroned. At all. In fact—" The demon thought to his history with the king. The king had never acknowledged him. And reflecting back, the king seemed to have no intention of making him king. So, why did the king not denounce him sooner?

A breath in the air, Eial whispered, "But if your bond had not been an elf, you'd—"

And that's when it dawned on the demon. In the palace of traditional values, so traditional that the king felt forced to keep Drokn as heir as the first born child, the king needed an excuse. And what greater excuse than the betrayal of the demons by being bonded to an elf?

Incompetence bitterly scorching through his veins, the memories one by one of his own father's disapproving glare, his bitter words that etched into his being.

"No, Eial, listen to me clearly. Whether or not you're my bond, the king would have found a way to dethrone me. He scorned me with all his being." Slowly, Drokn's lips stretched into a sinister smile, a darkness overcast through his eyes. "But, for someone who hates me and elves, what greater humiliation than to be overtaken by both?"