To Defend A Bride (Entangled with the Enduar #3)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

RA’SA

U pon arriving in the caves, I was carted off to a meeting with the king and queen.

Goddess bless me, it was short. However, someone let another elf under the mountain. Thorne, they call him. A pretentious gnat with his nose so far up the elvish leader’s ass that he can’t see his precious sky.

It’s put me in a foul mood, only made worse by the noise of the humans being situated for the evening. The world feels like it’s spinning out of control. People pour out of Hammerhead Hall and rush past me with blankets, spell lights, buckets, and various bags filled with what appears to be clothes.

The only grace I’m granted is the gentle nighttime song that rings from the clock tower in the middle of the city—four in the morning.

Mother should still be asleep, and hopefully, I’ll get to rest within the hour. My pace picks up, and I move quickly through the houses.

While many murmur a greeting or send me a kind smile, none stop to speak with me. Not even the stone benders I am charged with leading as one of the city’s council members.

A small voice in the back of my mind says to me that Tirin would’ve come to greet me if he were still alive.

A strange emotion knots in my chest. I’d been quiet most of the trek back from Zlosa—I likely wouldn’t have spoken at all if Melisa hadn’t come to my side and stuck there.

Strange woman.

I push forward, ignoring the familiar twinge of pain that’s become so normal in the past months. I quickly cross the distance through the residential section and arrive at the door to my mother’s house.

Seeing the circular dwelling with the curved rectangular door tightens the muscles between my shoulder blades. I moved back into this house after Tirin’s death, but it’s still filled with a lifetime of struggle.

I grab the handle, pull it open, and step inside. The spell lights are off, but a foul smell is coming from the small kitchen.

Holding my breath, I venture into the space. A pile of pots and plates is in the small sink. I groan.

Mother doesn’t like to eat with the others, but if the dishes are still dirty… I wonder if she’s eaten at all since I left. My palms sweat as I hurry into her room.

The door is open, so it’s easy to push inside without being heard. When I see her lying on the bed, chest rising and falling under ancient woven blankets, I relax. Then I notice a plate next to her nightstand.

Several, actually.

I let out a sigh of relief, creeping over and picking up the dirty dishes.

Svanna, the advisor who leads the miners, must’ve cared for her while I was gone. Making a note to thank her, I return to the kitchen and start to wash.

Luckily, Ma is only one person. It doesn’t take me long to scrape away the grime and filth, but scrubbing the smell out of the bronze sink takes ages.

Just as I start wiping down the counters, I hear a soft voice whisper behind me.

“ Fihlius, ” she starts. Son , in Enduar.

I hum a greeting but don’t stop cleaning until her hand touches my shoulder. Finally, I turn to look at her.

Mer’Leuel was a proud Enduar woman, but time has worn her down. It’s chipped away at the delicate features of her once beautiful face and replaced them with loose skin. Her hair is hastily tied into a low bun, with dozens of silver strands escaping down her neck and back. Most days, I have to help her style her locks since her eyesight has faded in the last half century.

Her brown nightgown is crumpled, and the lines around her mouth pull down.

“My son. Please, stop ,” she says again, this time more firmly. She comes around and takes the scouring tool from my hand. “I will do it.”

“But you didn’t do it, not for a week,” I say, pressing my lips together.

Her frown deepens. “If I had known you were coming, I would’ve cleaned.”

I wave her off and lock away the frustration and embarrassment burning up my neck. “It is fine. I am glad to see you are well.”

She takes a deep breath and draws me from the kitchen area to the common room. There is a long sofa and several chairs. She sits, but I glare at the spot that used to be occupied by Tirin.

“Did you already eat?” she asks.

I nod. “I grabbed a little food before visiting.”

She scowls. “Did you really?”

“No.”

“That’s what I thought. You traveled long; you must eat,” she coaxes.

I take a deep breath, gathering the strength to tell her that more humans have arrived, and I am mated to none of them. She’s old and hardened by grief, but she’s got a tender heart.

I just need to do it.

Someone walks past our home, chattering about the group of humans filling up at least two dozen previously unoccupied houses.

I roll my eyes, but Ma stills and looks at me.

“More humans? How many?”

It’s impossible to miss the way that her countenance brightens. She knows what the humans mean to us Enduares—a chance at a new generation. Mates for everyone in our cave.

Disappointment threads through my heart, and I put away trinkets and fold blankets scattered around the sitting area.

“We rescued several dozen humans from Zlosa. More than thirty.”

My mother stands, and her hand goes over her mouth as her eyes drop to my neck. She immediately sees the absence of my glowing mating marks, and her eyes dim, brows knitting together.

“I take it you didn’t find a mate.”

I pause. “No.”

All the light in my mother’s face is snuffed out as she sinks back to her sad, sullen behavior.

“If there is no song, then you are not mated.”

My fists clench.

“There are more humans in Zlosa. One of them will…” I trail off.

What if none of them are my mate? And even if one was, what if they cast me off like those of my own kind?

“I am sorry, my son. But perhaps it’s for the best,” she says softly. “What do you know of courting a woman? There have never been enough around for you to practice with.”

Her words sting. I carried Melisa and tended to her well enough. She didn’t complain. When I meet the woman the goddess Grutabela has destined to be mine, I could do even more. Force myself to be more.

“Your lack of faith wounds me,” I say sardonically.

My mother gives me a sad smile and cups my cheek.

“You know I love you. But these things take time. The stones will sing your fate when you are ready.”

As she searches my eyes, she frowns. “I hope you are not so eager to find a mate for my sake. I am fine.”

I reach up and grab her hand. “You are not. You haven’t been. Not since Tirin’s death, and not even before that. You barely move; you leave the house filthy.”

She recoils from my outburst.

I place my palm over the absence of her touch. “Ma, I’m sorry. I?—”

“No, don’t take it back now. I know what this is. You pity me. What a poor woman I am, left alone. Well, Salore, I am alone. My mate is dead. My daughters are dead. My son is dead, but I am not. And neither are you.”

“Yes. I know. But if I find a woman?—”

“Please, stop this.” My mother’s hands return and cup either side of my face. “I know you do this because you believe yourself the man of our home. A leader. But it’s just us. You do not need to do this for me.”

I grit my teeth. “I don’t do it only for you; I also do it for Tirin. He died so that I might have this.”

“And what do you want?”

When I don’t answer, my mother shakes her head. “Your father wouldn’t have wanted this, and neither would your brother. Tirin died so you could have a mate, not just suffer through what should be the most beautiful, sacred song of your lifetime.”

I detest when she invokes my father. Ra’Tirsa was the greatest man I’d ever known. He served in one of the nine battalions that protected the king’s treasures during the First Great War.

He taught me everything I know about being a man. Because of him, I know how to keep my head in the face of chaos. To trust myself when all others doubt me. He showed me true honor. Strength.

How can my mother think that I have cast all of those lessons to the wayside?

“Enough. It is my choice. I am the one who leads this family— I am the only one left .”

My mother drops her arms and steps away from me. “So this is how it will be?”

I nod. “Yes. I will tell you when I have met the woman.”

Her mouth opens, but then thinks better of her words.

“I will return tomorrow to help you clean the rest of your home,” I say, brushing out of the space and gently closing the door behind me.

For a second, I stand there.

My chest goes concave. Many things pass through my mind, but mostly I ache. It’s a familiar pain that has become so broad and blunt that it’s hard to identify what part of my innards it pierces.

I look up at the top of Enduvida, observing the familiar inky blackness accentuated with crystals and pretty bobbles.

Things are quieter now, but my body sags against the door. It would be wise to unwind before attempting to sleep.