“We shall see,” I sniff, entirely unimpressed, and he laughs even harder.
When we return to our makeshift camp, he pulls strips of dried meat from his pack and walks over to Vaelen.
The Dire wolf lifts his head from where he’s curled near the fire. Auren strokes his thick fur, offering him a strip, and I don’t miss the way his voice softens when he speaks to the beast.
Auren turns to me, offering another piece. “Do you want to give him one?”
I hesitate. Those massive jaws, those razor-sharp fangs… But I refuse to be a coward.
I hold out the strip. Vaelen’s glowing gold eyes meet mine for a breath before he takes it, then nudges my side with his snout.
“See?” Auren smiles. “I told you he likes you.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest. “Well, I like him too.”
When he’s finished, Auren lifts me onto Vaelen’s back, and we resume our journey.
This time, when my back rests against his chest, and his arms settle around me, it doesn’t feel awkward. It feels… comfortable.
And I’m not sure what to do with that.
The rhythmic sway of Vaelen’s stride lulls me into a strange, unfamiliar state of ease. The Dire wolf moves with effortless grace, his massive paws barely making a sound over the forest floor. It’s ridiculous how safe I feel perched atop a creature that could rip a man in half with a single bite.
Safer still with Auren behind me.
I’m acutely aware of his muscular form pressed against my back, the way his strong body frames mine. It’s… nice, but I will not dwell on that.
I inhale deeply, trying to force my thoughts elsewhere, but Auren’s masculine scent—cedarwood and something uniquely him—fills my senses.
I need a distraction.
Clearing my throat, I glance over my shoulder. “How did you get Vaelen?”
“We were paired when I was a child. Vaelen’s sire was my mother’s Dire wolf.”
I raise a brow. “Paired?”
“Most Dark Elves are bonded to a Dire wolf when they’re young,” he explains. “It ensures a connection that lasts a lifetime.”
I’ve heard of war horses bonded to their riders, but this sounds like something even deeper than that. “That sounds… lovely,” I admit.
“It is a sacred bond,” Auren replies solemnly.
Still wanting to distract myself, I ask another question. One that has been on my mind since we were first wed. “Most of your people live under the mountain, but you said there are some above ground outposts in your kingdom. Which do you call home?”
He hesitates a beat before answering. “Part of the year, I live in the capital city of Elyrith, beneath the mountain. But the other half, I reside in Caer Aetheryn—an above ground fortress.”
“Because of your position?”
Auren pauses again before finally replying, “Yes.”
“I imagine it depends on where you’re posted, right?”
“Exactly.”
“And… what does that mean for me?”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
