Beneath the Armor: An Elven Desire

Chapter 13

Drake carried her from the manor all the way to her room in the inn, enveloped in a tense, brooding silence. Fay could feel the heaviness of his anger with every step, his grip firm yet not harsh, but his jaw clenched in a steely resolve. She stole glances at his face, catching the edge of a frown that spoke volumes more than words could.

When they reached her room, Drake paused, exhaling sharply. "Go to your room, Alison," he instructed, his voice like gravel. "I'm very disappointed in you. Wyatt can deal with your involvement."

Fay peeked over his shoulder. Alison stood in the hallway, her face a portrait of fear and regret. Her eyes met Fay’s, and she managed a small, strained smile. Fay returned it, guilt tugging at her heart. She hadn't meant for any of this to happen, especially not to drag Alison into the mess.

Once inside, Drake closed the door with a heavy finality. He placed Fay gently on a chair in the centre of the room and began to pace, his back to her, each step echoing his turmoil. Fay sat still, her eyes wide, feeling the weight of his disappointment.

The room felt like it was shrinking, the silence stretching unbearably. Fay’s hands grew clammy, a tremor starting in her fingers. Her legs twitched, the urge to move, to speak, nearly overwhelming.

“Drake, I’m sorry…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. But the words had barely left her lips when he spun around, his bright blue eyes blazing with anger.

“Don’t,” he growled, the single word sharp and final, before resuming his relentless pacing.

Fay’s heart sank. She hated seeing him like this, knowing she was the cause. She had only wanted to find her friend, but the cost now seemed too high. The room felt colder, every moment stretching her nerves thinner. Fay watched Drake pace, her heart pounding in her chest. She mustered the courage to speak again, her voice trembling slightly. “Drake, I’m sorry. I had to check on someone…” But her words faltered as his piercing gaze locked onto her, making her feel like prey caught in his intensity.

“Fay, I said enough!” he yelled, squaring up to her, his presence overwhelming. The volume of his voice echoed off the walls, and she felt tears prick at her eyes. This was the first time she had seen him so worked up, and it terrified her.

“You disobeyed my orders,” he continued, his voice low and dangerous. “You put not only yourself but Alison, me, and my men at risk. Have you not caused enough chaos here with that other Elf? And what for—a bit of fun?” His words cut deep, each syllable laced with frustration and disappointment.

As he slowly approached her, it was like watching a lion stalk its prey. His figure loomed over her, a shadow that filled the room. Fay’s breath quickened; she felt so small beneath his intensity, the weight of his disappointment pressing down on her.

“Drake, I—” she started, but he held up a hand, silencing her. The look in his eyes was fierce, a tempest of emotions swirling just beneath the surface.

“What do you think would have happened if they found out you were an Elf?” Drake spat, his voice sharp as a blade. “Did you think about that before charging in there? You say you were looking for someone, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t have been so reckless. If you want to run away, run. But don’t put me or my men in a predicament. Who could you be possibly looking for?"

Fay’s tears began to fall, each drop a testament to her sorrow and regret. She hugged herself tightly, feeling the weight of his words crush her spirit. He was right; she hadn’t thought it through. A fleeting dream had driven her to act without caution.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, her voice breaking. “Marrabel is my friend, and I had to see if she was here."

"Everyone in your village was slaughtered. I saw the attack. I'm surprised you even survived." Drake pinches his nose.

Feeling a little courage, Fay stands, hands on hips. "She has the magical ability of foresight. Sometimes, she can see alternative outcomes for the future—or past, sometimes present. It’s confusing, but sometimes she can project them to those she’s closest to. I thought last night’s dream might have been her asking for help.”

"You risk the life of everyone here because of a dream?" Drake looked taken back.

She paused, feeling the sting of his cold demeanour. “I’m sorry, Drake. I know sometimes they’re wrong, but I had to look.” Her voice trembled as she once again hugged herself tighter, trying to ward off the chill of his anger.

Drake’s heart clenched at her tears. She was so naïve, so innocent to the dangers of their world. Yet, he couldn’t let her think it was acceptable to lie to him, to act carelessly. “Go to bed,” he commanded, his voice rough. “A guard will be stationed outside your door for the remainder of the night. Don’t pull another stunt like this again, or the consequences will be severe.”

"I'm sorry, I know I should have told you but I was running out of time. Alison told me we were leaving in the morning and I didn't know if you were asleep" Fay whispered desperately. She didn't want Drake to be angry at her. She willed for him to understand.

"Good night Fay". With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

As the door shut, the mask of anger he wore fell away, revealing the turmoil beneath. He paused in the hallway, the echoes of her soft cries cutting deep. The weight of dread settled in his chest as he recalled the panic that had surged through him when he tracked them down. Seeing Alison’s anxious face, and then that Elf throwing Fay onto the couch—it ignited a fury he hadn’t known he possessed. How had he not planned for this?

Drake stomped down the corridor, his mind racing. He needed to speak to Wyatt about the incident to ensure their safety and prevent any further chaos.

After the brief security discussion woth Wyatt, he found himself back at Fay’s door, his knees buckling as he sank against it, back pressed firmly against the wood.

He closed his eyes, heart pounding with the memory of the fear he felt tonight. Thank the stars he had decided to check on her one last time before sleep. The shock and panic he had experienced were indescribable. He couldn’t shake the image of Fay in danger, vulnerable and alone. His feelings for Fay shocked him to his core. It wasn't something he planned to act on, but also something he couldn't ignore.

“Fay…” he whispered, the name escaping his lips like a prayer. He wanted to protect her, to shield her from the harsh realities of their world, from himself. But how could he do that if she continued to put herself in harm’s way? How could he when he wanted her for himself?