He didn’t have to be told twice. He pushed the door open silently and stepped into the room.

Chapter 18

Don’t ever tell yourself that you aren’t capable of murder. Under the right circumstances , anyone can become a killer. Under the wrong circumstances, the killer becomes the one capable of torture, anguish, cruelty, and all manner of unspeakable things. I am one such killer and the wrong circumstances have happened to my beloved. Death will be a mercy to those who have earned my wrath; it will be a mercy they will not receive.

~ Triktapic, King of the Elves

Trik bit back a growl as he saw his mate, his love, lying on a bed with Andaer, a warrior he had fought beside many times, leaning over her body, pulling her dress down.

He leaned casually back against the wall and pulled out the dagger from his sheath on his thigh. He flipped it in the air nonchalantly as he spoke.

“If you pull that material any lower I will cut your hands off.”

Andaer froze and then in a rush of movement was on his feet blocking Cassie from his view.

“Trik,” Andaer growled, “how kind of you to come and wish me blessings on my Union.”

Trik laughed humorlessly. “I’ve come to bless you brother, but it will be over your cold corpse as I push you over the cliff and into the oblivion.” Trik continued to flip the dagger up and catch it, blade, then handle, blade then handle, never losing his rhythm as he spoke.

“You knew she was my Chosen, and yet you dared to touch her.” Slowly the boiling anger began to rise to the top and the calm façade slipped. “You put your hands on my mate and for that your life is forfeit.”

“Not only my hands Triktapic?” Andaer wished immediately that he could take those words back.

Trik pulled on his power, the Royal power in his blood, bestowed upon him by the Forest Lords and he dropped the cloak that kept his kingship hidden. He stood before Andaer in his true form, the King of the Elven race. His radiance filled the room and Andaer fought to stay on his feet. His eyes widened as he looked at Trik and swallowing became difficult.

“You shouldn’t be, you are gone, you left,” he stuttered.

“I have returned,” Trik’s voice rumbled in the room. “I am no longer the King I once was, tolerant of your selfishness. We are a people of many blessings, magic being chief among them and we have wielded it with wicked intent. I am tired of living in that darkness. Cassie, my Chosen, has broken the hold that it had over me. I am your King, your rightful King, and I have spoken your sentence.”

“I didn’t know it was you,” Andaer argued. “I would have never claimed her.”

“Does it matter who I am? She is the Chosen of another. You know what that means, you know how sacred that is and yet you attempted to defile and seduce her. You attempted to take that which was made for me, that which completes my soul. You acted out of lust and selfish desire without thought to what it would do to her.”

“It is not only his fault,” a small voice came from behind Andaer. Trik moved like lightening as her grabbed Andaer and slammed him to the wall. He pulled on his authority and held the elf there by his will. Turning away from him he walked slowly over to Cassie. His movements were calculated and cautious as if approaching a frightened animal.

“Cassie, love,” his voice was soft and she felt the caress of it to her soul. The voice inside of her was screaming and reaching for him.

Trik felt it, felt his soul answer hers. He sat down on the bed next to her and reached down very slowly, pausing to see if she would stop him. When she didn’t he continued his pursuit and tied both sides of her dress back together. She let out a breath that she had been holding as she stared up at Trik.

She felt fuzzy, but she opened herself to the urgency of her soul and let the memories out that she had hidden from for so long. Tears formed in her eyes as she saw Trik’s face when she had called him a liar, when she had slapped him, and when she had told him never to come near her again. A sob broke free and she tried to curl up on her side away from him.

“Oh no you don’t, beautiful,” he gathered her in his arms and held her close. “Never hide from me, A'maelamin. I’m here, though you told me never to come near you. Surely you know by now that I go where I want and do what I want.”

Trik felt her shudder against him. He pulled back and cradled her face so that he could look at her.

“I know I hurt you, but will you let me explain?” He waited and when she finally nodded he sighed a breath of relief.

“I was going to leave him, Cassie. I was going to walk away from Lorsan, but I felt I had to do it strategically and I should have explained that to you. I was afraid that you wouldn’t understand and so I thought that as long as you didn’t know then it wouldn’t hurt you. I was a fool. I need you to know that I want you, I need you.” He switched to his native tongue as he spoke to her soul, “Amin mela lle”.

“I still don’t speak Elven,” she told him with a shy smile.

Trik’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I know many languages beautiful, which would you have me speak?”

Cassie bit her lip as she tried to hold herself together but her control was slipping. Tears began to slip from her eyes as she stared into the silver eyes of the only man she could ever love. “I need to hear it Trik, please, don’t make me beg.”

Trik’s eyes widened in disbelief and then it was replaced by shame. “Cassie, Arwenamin, A'maelamin, you will never have to beg me for anything. I love you with everything inside me, I love you.”