Fated to the Dark Elf Episode 2

Chapter 7

Delia

I catch a final glimpse of those strange, blue-silver eyes before I’m shoved off of the stage and into the rough hands of a waiting handler, who drags me down the hall. He bought me. He wanted me. No one has ever bid on me before, and that dark elf bid double, then triple.

There’s still a little voice in my head, screaming and fighting against the idea that I’m property to be bought and sold, thrashing against the strange attraction I feel to that dark elf in the crowd, but I ignore it.

His eyes… Something about him seems so different than all of the other dark elves I’ve come across. There was no hint of cruelty in his features, no promise of violence or lewdness in his eyes. He simply looked at me like he wanted me, as if he was daring anyone to contradict him.

My thoughts continue to circle back to the dark elf as the handlers switch out my chains for ropes, freeing my ankles so the dark elf’s servants can escort me to a waiting carriage. I breathe in fresh air for the first time in a year, no longer feeling smothered by the smell of human excrement and the sounds of tears and screams.

He’s wealthy enough to own a carriage, to have real servants, and I’m getting out of that hellish prison. My life is better just for him stepping into it, and I can’t help but wonder how much better it’s going to get.

I’d be silly to think that he’s going to let me go, or grant me my freedom out of kindness, but perhaps he won’t be cruel. I focus on keeping my face a mask of neutrality despite the hope blooming in my chest.

Even if he is terrible, or wants me for uncouth reasons, I have a better chance of escaping him than I do the entirety of the Dark Market. I’ll do whatever I have to do, but maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to do anything too serious. I can simply slip out into the night, disappear from his home, and set off to start my life again.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as the carriage lurches to a sudden halt, the door swinging open mere seconds later for two servants to drag me out. The air here is faintly salty, as if we’re near the sea, and I inhale it greedily. Nothing here smells like the Dark Market- it smells of growing plants, the ocean, and faintly of some type of meat being prepared.

The dark elf male’s carriage slows to a stop behind mine, and he steps out a moment later, letting me look at him in the light of day for the first time.

His long, jet-black hair frames his face, falling softly over his shoulders to rest just below his collarbones. HIs gleaming blue and silver-laced eyes are brighter as they catch the light from beneath the strands around his face, and shine in comparison to the slate gray shade of his skin and the dark shadow of his brows.

The masculine set of his jaw and strong nose negate any of his more feminine features, making him look more like a ferocious statue of solidified smoke rather than pretty or effeminate, but something about him knocks the wind from my lungs. There’s no denying that the elf is attractive.

The light highlights all that I saw before, and it brings it out even sharper

A sharp yank on my arm breaks our staring contest, and the servants pull me up the path to a lavish, if not a bit dated, looking manor. The massive double doors yawn open around us before we’re within the manor, and I hardly have any time to study my surroundings before that familiar, deep voice calls after us.

“Wash her and get her dressed,” he commands as I’m pulled down the hall and through another door. The servants lead me into a conjoined washroom, one of them filling a massive clawfoot tub while the other begins stripping me.

A blush burns up my neck and over my cheeks as I stand naked between the two fully-clothed dark elves, and I keep my eyes on the ground. Neither of the dark elves seem particularly bothered or intrigued by my nudity, simply moving around the space and fulfilling their duties, but I can’t help but feel embarrassed.

Before being in the Dark Market, I’d never been nude around anyone, and even then it was only for inspections or around the other women. Before long, the two servants put me in the bath, the warm water lapping at my skin as they set about washing me.

The dark elf male wanted them to bathe me, dress me, take care of me. He didn’t want to hurt me or take me to his bed. Perhaps my hopes weren’t misplaced after all. Maybe he’s just lonely, and wants someone else to help occupy this manor.

Too soon, I’m pulled from the tub, and scented oils are rubbed across my skin by the apathetic hands of a servant as another begins laying out a simple, white dress. As I’m led back into the bedroom, I gape at my surroundings, wondering if this is where I’ll be staying.

The pale gray walls are adorned with sconces and delicate wainscoting, different landscape paintings and maps hanging from the tall walls. A plush, four-poster bed is pushed against the far wall and framed by nightstands, piled high with pillows and blankets of varying, welcoming textures.

Three massive windows eat up another wall, looking out over a garden and what I assume is the back lawn, all of which are framed by distant seaside cliffs and the ocean beyond. My attention turns back to the room as a servant nudges me toward the bed, clearly ready to begin dressing me.

After dressing me, they fuss over my hair for a bit, pinning long brown locks back from my face and letting the rest hang loosely past my shoulders. Almost the moment they finish their tasks, another servant appears in the doorway, murmuring something unintelligible into the ear of the servant behind me.

Without warning, they usher me from my chair, leading me out of the beautiful room and down the hallway.

“Where are we going?” I ask, nervousness beginning to set in. None of them answer me, or even look at me, as we continue through the labyrinthine manor. Eventually, I find myself in front of another pair of doors, and two of the three servants all but flee up the hall while the other knocks on the door.

“Come in.”

His voice sends electricity down my spine, equal parts fear and anticipation coursing through me. No doubt he plans on setting the rules with me, telling me either directly or indirectly why he’s brought me here.

Why has he brought me here?

The servant practically shoves me into the room before closing the door behind me, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve been left for dead as those brilliant eyes meet mine across the room. Shelves line the walls, and a fire roars in the hearth to my left. The study seems eerily quiet, and the quiet is growing more intense with every passing second we spend staring at one another.

Remembering myself, I curtsy, unsure of what I’m supposed to do. The dark elf snorts as he rises to his feet across from me.

“Sit,” he commands, motioning to a far chair. I do as he says, still feeling unsure of what’s expected of me but knowing better than to defy him. The dark elf settles into a chair across from me, his body the picture of a casual nature that doesn’t match the intense look in his eyes.

“How did you learn magic?”

My heart falters in my chest before picking back up at a fever pitch, and the air whooshes from my lungs. He’s going to kill me.

“I-”

“Don’t bother trying to lie. Answer my questions, and we’ll get along fine,” he says, his voice dangerously low. I nod in response, my tongue failing me as I try to think on my feet. 

Why him? He knows of my magic, so why waste money on me rather than outing me right on that stage?

“I didn’t learn,” I admit slowly, forcing myself to meet his eyes. He leans forward in his chair, listening intently. “It just… happens.”

"Hm… I supposes that makes sense as to why you can't seem to control it," he muses thoughtfully.

How would he know? The thought is bitter.

"It certainly explains why it's warding others to stay away from you," he continues on, speaking as though I'm not there anymore. "You're far to ignorant to be doing it on purpose."

This man is an ass. And he is definitely an ass on purpose.

I can’t tell him everything, I decide, not without potentially risking my freedom. The dark elves don’t like when we have magic. Most of the time it’s easy to hide, but this elf knows what he’s talking about, so my best bet is to downplay everything.

“When does it happen?” he presses. “What happens?” I shrug as I mull over his words, choosing my response carefully.

“It slips out when I’m scared, or upset. Lots of things happen. Sometimes it’s fire, other times it’s water. I don’t really know what you want me to say, I don’t know how or why it happens.”

The dark elf makes a thoughtful noise, his eyes boring into me as he thinks.

“Who sold you?” he asks, the complete pivot in our conversation throwing me for a loop.

I blink at him uselessly for a moment, and he growls under his breath.

“I don’t like to be kept waiting. I said, who sold you?” he asks again, his voice rougher.

“My parents,” I say quickly, not wanting to incur his wrath. I haven’t talked about them, or about the fact that they sold me, to anyone. A part of me wants to, if only to have somebody understand, but a much larger part of me hopes he doesn’t press further. A wealthy dark elf like him would never understand.

“I have a… proposal for you,” The dark elf says, bridging his fingers as he leans back in his chair. “I assume you know what would happen to a human if it were to become clear that they have magic?”

My blood turns to ice, and I force myself to nod at the thinly veiled threat. I’ve considered what would happen to me if anyone learned of my magic. It would be a fate worse than death.

“Good,” He murmurs softly, his eyes moving from the dancing flames to focus on me once again.

“I will help you. I’ll train you to use your gifts, to master them, and I’ll keep your secret, but you’ll have to do something for me, first.”

Apprehension tightens in my throat. What he’s offering is huge, unheard of. What he wants of me must be even bigger.

“Marry me.”

I can’t help the incredulous sound that slips from my mouth, and I clap a hand over my lips hurriedly to try and contain it.

“Marry you?” I parrot, the disbelief clear in my voice. The dark elf simply nods, and I lose control of my body as I realize he’s serious, leaping to my feet.

“But- but I don’t even know you! I don’t even know your name! You don't know anything about me, and you want me to marry you?” I sputter. A faintly amused smile dances across his lips.

“What should I know? Do we need a name exchange?”

“That’s not my point,” I groan, but his face hardens at my refusal, and I remember what he said earlier.

“My name is Delia,” I add hurriedly, his face relaxing as I answer his question.

“Thorne.” He responds. Thorne rises from his chair, and it’s only as he’s standing in front of me, so close I could touch him, that I realize his massive height.

“Now that that’s taken care of, I assume we can proceed?” he asks softly, humor still dancing through his voice.

“But… I… I want to marry someone I love,” I say with equal quiet, glancing up to look at him. Thorne's face is hard, and he laughs humorlessly down at me.

“But I’m sure we could still help each other in some way!” I add quickly, trying to sound enthusiastic. Thorne's eyes darken at my blatant refusal, and every hair on my body stands on end as deep, violet magic begins to spark through the air. His tone leaves no room for questions when he speaks again.

“You will marry me, or your magic will be ripped from your body like a beating heart, and you will be shipped off to the mines to work until your body is as broken as your soul.” He sneers, looming over me. “Now…the choice is yours.” His magic swirls around me, tightening like a physical grip. “Do we have a deal?”