Page 17 of The Dark Elf's Secret Baby

A rap on the other side of my door startles me, and I jerk back, blinking before I pull the door open. Did someone hear me in here?

On the other side is Rylmar, the closest thing I have to a friend here. He looks at me with raised brows, and I stiffen, thinking he’s going to ask who Layla is.

“You didn’t put in for transfer?” he asks instead.

My breath catches in my throat. No, I didn’t put in for the transfer. The thought of leaving Layla was too much for me to bear and I’d much rather stay here with her and never advance than to go anywhere else. It was what confirmed the love I’ve been fighting to shove down because we live in a world where that is almost an impossibility.

But not quite. There are other dark elves, including one of the generals over this area, who has taken a human mate. They just have the power to protect their humans. And I fear what I could give Layla – even though I’ve risked exposure and death to punish those who intend her harm before. If only she knew how these elves used to talk about her before I busted open my knuckles knocking her name out of their mouths…

I just know that we can make this work; if I find a way to tell her. But I can’t tell Rylmar any of this before I at least talk to Layla.

So, I clear my throat. “No, I didn’t feel it was the right job.”

He leans against my door frame. “No?” He eyes me up and down. “Ever since we met you’ve been chomping at the bit to be promoted. You’re turning this down?”

I shrug, turning away and taking a few steps into my room. I feel too anxious to stay still. “I’m looking for something better.”

Again Rylmar’s eyes track my twitchy movements. “You okay?”

I nod. “There’s something on the horizon. I can feel it.” That much, at least, is true.

“It’s always good to trust your gut,” he muses. “That’s what my father said.” One shoulder quirks up. “But then again, the old man got stabbed in the back, so what does he really know?”

“If I’m wrong, may the Warrior strike me down,” I mutter as I look down. Legend has it that the Thirteen gods and goddesses sleep below the mountains, but we all look to the ground when calling upon them. And if Layla were to reject me, I’d rather my patron god just snuff out my life right there.

Rylmar doesn’t know that, of course. Instead, he snorts. “I guess we’ll see which is right, your beliefs or your gut.” And then he stalks away.

The door is still open and I stare at it, steeling my nerves. If I shut it, I just know I won’t work up the courage to go back out there. So, I force one leg in front of the other and when I pause in the doorway, I nearly give up.

But with enough self-control, I manage to get out of my home. My heart is pounding and I feel like running away, but I’m outside and on my way to face my fears.

It isn’t until I’m walking a familiar route that I’m hit with how much I miss her. I’m used to her seeing her every day, but I didn’t get a chance to today–

Wait. I didn’t see Layla on the way to or from the mines today. The thought stills my heart, sending a new, fiercer wave of panic through me. I try to soothe it, telling myself that she just might be sick, and as the thought occurs to me, I realize I should bring her something.

I spot the bakery and head inside, selecting her favorite pastry. If she isn’t sick, then maybe this will help convince her how much I genuinely do care about her. What other male would pay attention to her pastry preferences?

My hands are still trembling when I make it to her house, made more noticeable by the paper the pastry is wrapped in, and I dart forward to knock on the door before I turn and run. But when the door swings open, it isn’t my lovely Layla standing there. It’s her cousin.

My lips curl down into a frown when I see her jerk back to make sure no one caught a glimpse of me and shoves me outside. My stomach swirls with apprehension, the start of the rejection already stinging. Did Layla tell her family not to allow me in? Or do they think I am just a guard here to hurt her?

The door slams behind Amara, and she turns to check the windows, seeming to ensure no one can hear us. My apprehension grows. I don’t understand what’s happening, why this human feels so emboldened to treat me this way. She should have graciously let me – not that I wanted to come in – but the way she’s acting puts me on edge.

“Um, hi,” I start, my mouth painfully dry. The woman will barely look at me, and my heart is starting to hammer so hard I can’t hear over it. It’s going to send me into a panic. “Can I see Layla?”

Her eyes flick to me, then back away, and she shifts her weight from one foot to another. “She’s not here,” she mutters.

I nod. “Well, I have something for her. Could you tell me where she went?”

With an irritated huff, Amara stomps her food and looks me straight on. Her face is a mask of annoyance but her eyes flash with a bit of pain that terrifies me. “She got…” Her voice softens just before she hits me with the blow. “Transferred.”

I stumble back as if she struck me, the last bit of agitation dripping off her face. The pastry falls from my hand, and I nearly follow after it. My heart feels like it’s being wrenched from my chest and I can’t breathe.

“Where…” I stumble forward, the earth beneath my feet tilting, but I’m too determined to stop now. “Where did she go?”

My magic flares. I only really know how to use it to fight, but right now everything in my body is trying to get out, to make room for the pain, and as my veins light up beneath my skin, Amara takes a step back. She watches me with wide eyes, her lips parting as her gaze darts from my face back to my skin.

And she shakes her head.