Phil winced and dropped his gaze. "Sleep on it. You'll think differently once you get to know her."

"No." Erick rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair to his aching neck. "She screws with my head to the point that I don't know what I'm doing. I turn into a... I don't know what. Something I don't want to be. She'll be better off with that twit king anyway. He can give her what she wants." She'd have a perfect palace, clean and filled with riches. More than Erick could ever offer. Plus, there was the trade agreement. That would build up Biston's economy, at least.

If only he didn't feel so... wrong. But it was the right thing to do. He couldn't have her turning everything upside down, ruining what little order there was in his life. She was just a girl from a closed chapter of his life.

Chapter Six.

December 22, 9544 AR

Valetta, Biston

Just outside the rank odor of the dungeon, a silent whisper halted Eleanor's hasty retreat.

Come here, child.

Eleanor choked on her own saliva and coughed. She wiped the tears from her eyes to see the door before her. The tower. The demon's tower lay beyond that door.

Come, child. I won't hurt you.

When Eleanor was small, she'd believed that promise. Necessity and desperation had led her past that door, up the curving steps into darkness at the tower's top, the demon's prison.

"You've tricked me before." Eleanor's voice came out broken, weakened by sobs. Damn Erick and his mother.

We're the same, you and me.

Eleanor ran. Tears burned her cheeks and icy drafts pained her bare skin but not as much as the guilt and misery inside. If only she were someone else, something else.

Shivers racked her and air came in erratic bursts of misty breath by the time she reached her old room. Inside, fire, beloved fire blazed, soothing and healing. Its warmth kissed her skin but kisses weren't enough. With elven words, she drew its energy up like water. It seeped deep inside her, filling and refreshing. This, one of the few spells she knew, came from the demon.

When her father had found her in the demon's lap, practicing forbidden magic, she'd never known such hatred from him. Every vein in his face had pulsated as he exploded insults on her, burning her insides. That was the moment everything forever changed.

It hurt but not as much as the demon's mind at sight of her father. Memories that weren't Eleanor's, of pain and torture from an abusive king, Erick's father. The misery that resulted. Vengeance and consuming wrath. It shouldn't have left a scar in Eleanor. It wasn't hers. But it ached and oozed sometimes, whenever her thoughts fell quiet and still. Like an infected wound that just won't heal.

They'd never told Erick but he knew. He had to. Where else could she have learned how to steal light and heat? Not from her own secretive mother.

Eleanor had learned for him. He'd have died if she hadn't. They all would have. "What are you doing?" Meagan shrieked behind her.

Eleanor's whole body clenched. "Go away."

A blanket spilled all around her. Meagan pulled it taut over her shoulders. "You'll die. I've never been so scared, Elle. Please, don't do that to me again. I am so sorry about last night. It meant nothing. It was only sex. Just meaningless sex. Forgive me. I meant to tell you. I just... It just felt so good. I mean have you ever felt someone know you, I mean really know you?"

Eleanor glared up at the girl. "Don't you realize why he has you wear the mask? It's because he doesn't want to know who you are because if he knew, he'd have to treat you like a person, or as close to a person as he can treat a woman."

"No. I can feel him in my mind, like you used to do but not like that. He...he knows what I want and when I want it. Haven't you ever felt a man and wished he could do that?"

Eleanor's face burned and she vomited curses. Her stomach twisted and tangled in a painful mess. "Do you fuck him every night?" The words squeaked out from her throat, where hateful hands seemed to squeeze.

"No. I wish."

Eleanor bolted up, wishing she could ignore the years of friendship and slam Megan's curly haired head against the pink wall.

Fear widened the maid's eyes as she backed away.

Eleanor's own eyes must have glowed. She closed them. "I won't hurt you." She hated when people looked at her like that, as if she had no restraint simply because of the elven blood in her veins.

"He takes a different woman each night. I'm so sorry, Elle. Please. What can I do to make it up to you?" Megan pleaded.

There was nothing.

A knock sounded at the heavy wooden door, where anxious thoughts crept in. Eleanor groaned. Why wouldn't he leave?

Meagan opened it before Eleanor could scream not to.

Porter's king shoved past the maid and inside, as if Meagan didn't exist. "Are you all right, Eleanor?" His green eyes glowed as he searched hers. On anyone else, the shade would be beautiful but on him it was the color of putrid algae and toads.

"I'm fine. Go away."

He tried to touch her shoulder in mock comfort but Eleanor evaded him.

Blanket clutched in one hand, she backed away, wishing his lustful thoughts weren't so loud. Everything about him repulsed her-his cocky smile, his hunger to demean and squash all confidence around him, his air of authority on every subject. Deep inside his head, something worse hid where Eleanor couldn't see. Somehow, the human shielded his secrets.

"Can we speak alone, my love?" he whispered.

That word on his lips made her cringe. "At dinner but only if you go away now."

"Anything for you. As you wish. I promise I shall punish him for you. He will never lay hands on you again."

Eleanor's eyes burned, fixed on the arrogant king who squinted in her light. "Don't. I don't need your protection. Just go away. Get out."

His leathery lips parted, as if to say something but he started toward the door, back stiff. "I will see you at dinner, my love," he muttered and disappeared out into the hall.

No man had ever been so irritatingly persistent. Normally, she only had to say no once or twice. If he pushed her any further, she'd lose her temper and do something awful she'd regret.

Meagan closed the door. "He's handsome, Elle. Dignified."

"Men are such assholes," she hissed. "How could you fuck him, Megan? He's slime." She opened her closet and pulled out a plain dress.

"I know. I know. But, Elle, I'm not like you. Men don't line up to take abuse from me. I just... This is hard to explain... I mean you..." She blinked tears.

"Out of the hundreds of men here, why Erick?"

Meagan wiped at the tears on her cheek and sniffled. "I didn't think you'd be jealous. I mean we both liked him and we talked about..."

Eleanor cut her off. "I don't like him. I hate him." She tugged on the dress and shivered in the cool cotton.

Meagan straightened Eleanor's skirt and returned the blanket around Eleanor's shoulders. "I know you do but it wasn't like it had anything to do with him. I mean, really him. I mean, it wouldn't matter. I just like his body and the way he touches me. You should feel him, the way he moves and the..."

"Stop it," Eleanor snapped. "I don't want to hear any more." She slumped onto the rug in front of the fire.

Meagan sat beside her, breath heavy, as if waiting. Eleanor's thoughts bounced about like a ball off the walls and ceiling of a tiny room, eventually rolling into memories of other men at the masquerade.

Some of them had been very attractive, muscular and fit. If it weren't for Erick, Eleanor would have watched longer. Earth, she'd have participated, if she could. Her body still hungered for satisfaction, teased by Erick's tingling touch. If only she hadn't let him see inside her in the dungeon, she could have felt his hard cock in her most intimate of places. Slick and aching, she needed something to ease the ache. Earth, he lifted her to such heights, then left her with no way down. She just wanted to push away this feeling. If only her body didn't want him. "What are the others like?"

Meagan grinned and wriggled excitedly. "Why? You interested?" "I don't know. Maybe."

Megan shoved and nearly knocked her over. "Seriously?" She hopped up. "You'll need a costume." On light feet, Megan darted to the closet and yanked the doors open. She pulled out a silky purple evening gown. "Oooh, this would be perfect. We could cut it here." Her hand slid just below the hips. "And we could add some lace here." She motioned to the bust line.

"They'd recognize me regardless of what I wear." Her pheromones and pointed ears would give her away if not the glow of her eyes.

"I have a few ideas."

Chapter Seven.

December 22, 9544 AR

Valetta, Biston

Erick's gaze avoided hers, fixed on the bowl of stew he picked at. He hadn't said a word to her but his thoughts leaked out. He regretted what he'd wanted. Even now, he wouldn't let himself enjoy what her pheromones stirred. He held his breath for long intervals, wishing for the nose plug she'd stolen from him.

Selfish bastard. Oh, how she hated him. Eleanor forced her throat to swallow a spoonful of bland stew. The thick and lumpy liquid nearly choked her.

"Hardly fit for a stable boy. Such a lovely vision should have buttery lobster and succulent oysters. I will pamper you with every delicacy known to New Pangaea," Reiley promised.

"I like stew. It's my favorite," Eleanor lied and shoveled in another spoonful of either venison or lamb. She couldn't tell.

Hunched like a gargoyle, scowl fixed on his stony, chiseled face, Erick grumbled, "With a trade agreement, she would have lobster and oysters and Porter would enjoy the medicinal herbs and tubers that grow only in Biston's mountains."

"Porter hardly needs such...weeds but you know how to win my favor. Agree to my terms and you shall have your trade agreement."

"I'm not some product to be exported," Eleanor snapped. "I decide, not him." "Her father has to approve first," Erick said.

Eleanor spat out the water she'd just sipped. "What?" But Erick had promised he wouldn't. Earth, how could he? How could he be so stupid? Didn't he know? Didn't he sense it? Even so dilute, his elven blood had to have some power over him. Was he really that blind?

She looked to Uncle Phil, who stared intently at the floor. He'd sent the letter.

Oh no. She'd have to chance the snow. She couldn't stay here. Her father would give her away if her fated didn't want her.

Shhh. It's okay. Henry won't agree, Phil offered.

Had her thoughts spilled out? She looked to Erick. He'd heard too. Oh no. How much had he heard? Did it even matter any more?

He studied her from across the table and his mind probed at hers. When he couldn't find a way in, he asked, "Would it be so horrible? Do you honestly think someone better is going to tolerate your insults and throw himself at your feet?"

Air puffed out of her. It shouldn't hurt but her chest caved in as if crushed by the weight of his words. He'd defied fate all these years. Why would he change now, just because of her pheromone's effect on him? He didn't love her. He never would. "My fated is pond scum. I couldn't do worse," she nearly sobbed.

Uncle Phil rushed to her and tried to embrace her but Eleanor rose from her chair and stepped out of reach.

"He doesn't know," Phil whispered.

"No. Why should he? His delicate psyche might shatter. Earth forbid he should face his fears and grow up."

"Stop. This isn't the way. He isn't ready," Phil scolded.

"Ready for what?" Erick straightened, mind straining against hers. "He is your fated," Porter's king spat, having figured out the obvious.

Erick laughed and bolted up, chair falling back. Arms waving out in front of him, he shook his head adamantly.

"No, not a hybrid. How awful would that be, being fated to someone like his mother who could murder him and steal what little he has? Even a spell-less, wounded hybrid could trick him, for he has no magic of his own to defend himself. He could hire a rogue royal elf to keep her weak but what if she seduces a wizard with her spells? Like his mother had. Her lover could murder him in his sleep. Maybe his son too. What if his children don't have someone like my grandmother to protect and raise them? What if my father isn't around to keep him safe? My father doesn't have many years left." Cold and numb, Eleanor voiced the fears he kept hidden and closed even from himself. "No. He could never love a hybrid. Better to fill that void with faceless women, mortal women who couldn't hurt him, so long as he never marries one."

His laughter halted at her words and his dark eyes hardened, face creased with horror and rage. "Demon. Stay out of my head."

"I can't." His thoughts leaked so loudly. He should never have touched her face. Eleanor spun on her heels and rushed out of the room. She wouldn't cry. Earth, she wouldn't cry. She squeezed her eyes shut and blindly ran to her room.

Curled on her bed, she watched the fire burn, wishing she knew how to extract enough energy from the icy mountains to cross without freezing to death. There had to be a way. Maybe the demon knew how. How much would it hurt? Would another demon's scar kill her? The last one still burned, after six years. Best to wait. If Eleanor could delay until spring, she could try to escape without risking her life.

The door opened and Phil's heels clicked in. "He didn't mean it."

"I don't care." The idiot probably still refused to see what Eleanor was to him." "Just let him get to know you."

"He already knows me." They'd been best friends until five years ago when he'd jilted her. He was supposed to miss her. He was supposed to fall madly in love. He was supposed to rescue her from her father's prison, like a hero from a fairytale. She'd waited in her tower but Erick never came. When it became clear he didn't want her, she'd pursued a self-sufficient life but he wouldn't even let her have that. "He doesn't want to see. Let him fall to what's coming. I won't protect him."