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The Elf King - Rathilion

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Blurb

“Or perhaps your frustration stems from elsewhere? Maybe there’s a woman who holds your heart already?” she probed.

I met her gaze, noting the slight smile on her lips and the sparkle of knowing in her eyes. She always saw through me.

“I often see Sarya in the hallways,” she remarked. “Sneaking in and out of your room.”

I averted my eyes. Sarya doesn't hold my heart, I mused as I drained the last of my wine.

“Or perhaps it’s a formidable queen you still think about?” she suggested, already aware of the answer.

“She’s already taken,” I admitted.

“Then look ahead,” she urged. “Not back.”

“I know I need to look forward. I understand what I must do, which is why I’m doing this.”

“You make it sound like you’re going to battle,” she remarked.

“In a sense, I am. I never fancied these sorts of parties. I know how to fight, but this… this is not my forte, and marriage, I fear I might be even worse at. Nonetheless, the throne requires a successor, and perhaps… perhaps it might just bridge the rift between my father and me.”

“So, you sacrifice your own happiness for him?”

“What do you want me to do, Mother?” I responded. “I can’t have the woman I want.”

“And Sarya isn’t a woman you could want?” she probed.

“It isn’t like that between us, and besides, that wouldn’t really please Father.”

“No, but she does make you happy.”

“Yes,” I acknowledged.

“All I want, my son,” she said, drawing closer to me and placing her hands on my cheeks. She was only slightly shorter than me, a tall and striking woman with white hair like mine and pale skin, adorned in a flowing white dress. She exuded a regal air, akin to that of a goddess, a sentiment echoed by many. “Is your happiness.”

***

Rathilion, now The King of The Elves, rose to power by standing up for his beliefs and turning his people against his father. This decision has created a rift between him and the former king. In an attempt to mend their relationship and secure a future heir for the elves, Rathilion decides to marry, hoping it might bring some good and help him forget about the lovely Laelia, who is already promised to another.

Valindra has never wanted to marry. If given the choice, she would lock herself in a library for the rest of her life. Her undeniable beauty has always attracted unwanted attention, which she despises. She craves solitude, but her father insists she should become the next queen. Despite having sisters, he believes her beauty will capture the king's interest. However, an attack leaves Valindra scarred and undesired. Though she is dragged to a party held by the king out of obligation, her father no longer sees her as a viable candidate.

Ironically, her scars only draw the king's attention more. And every harsh word and cold look she directs at him only deepens his intrigue.

*Book Six*

Recommended to first read: A Dragon's Call, A Dragon's Love, A Dragon's Fight, The True Northern King - James and The Mystery Man - Mefan

This book can now be bought as a paperback on am@zon

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Chapter 1
Note: This is a darker fantasy, not following the "typical" dragon plots. Be aware of k*dnapping, bullying, and death. -Rathilion- “Is that really all you’ve got, Your Highness?” Sarya taunted, holding her sword against my throat with a smug smile. She winked at me before drawing back, and we circled each other. I made the first move, our blades meeting with a clang, the sound echoing across the expansive training area. The gravel beneath our feet shifted slightly as we exerted force, each of us trying to push the other back. Eventually, we both relented, pushing away before our blades clashed once more. Sarya always wore that smile when training with me. She knew the teasing glint in her eyes affected me, and I couldn’t resist playing along. “Always so serious, Rath,” she’d say. We had known each other since childhood, and there was no one with whom I felt as relaxed as her. “Ah!” Suddenly, as I was distracted, Sarya came for me, thinking I wouldn’t be prepared. However, I moved away at the last second before her sword cut through the air where I had been. Then, I grabbed her arm and tripped her, sending her down onto her back. “You thought you had me there,” I teased her. She sat up, brushing the small stones from her clothes, and smiled, nodding. I reached a hand down to her, and she gratefully took it. “Well, it looked like a good opportunity,” she said. “You seemed distracted.” “Too many thoughts,” I admitted. “You need to get out of your head before someone takes advantage,” she advised, pushing her red hair over her shoulder. It was this deep red color, reminiscent of the leaves in autumn, just a shade darker. I reached out and twirled a lock of it around my finger, pulling gently, while her eyes traveled from my hand up to my own, and I saw the heat flare in hers. “I know,” I said. “Being king has changed things.” “Maybe you need a different kind of distraction,” she suggested, coming closer and pressing her strong body against mine. She was a soldier through and through, having trained her whole life to become one. She followed her fierce mother, who had raised her on her own. I admired her strength. Placing my hand on her cheek, I ran my thumb over her soft, pale skin, meeting her intense gaze. She was tall, but I still towered over her, needing to lean down to press my lips against hers. She moaned sweetly against me, and the kiss quickly became more demanding and hungry. “I think I do,” I murmured against her lips. *** Sarya lay with her head on my chest, both of us resting after finding pleasure in each other. Our fingers were intertwined, lying together on my stomach, while my free hand ran down her bare back. We were completely naked on my bed, heated by what we had done, and I gazed up at the ceiling, observing the night sky painted there. “You are never relaxed for long,” Sarya remarked. “Not anymore,” I replied. “Things are peaceful. Thanks to you,” she said, looking up at me. I turned my head and smiled softly at her, unsure of what to say. Yes, things were peaceful now, but at what cost? Lives, certainly, but I had also been separated from people I cared about because of my choices. I never believed my father and I would find common ground, and if we couldn’t, I doubted I would with my mother either. Yet, I had gained another family: Laelia and Ashes. I saw them as often as I could, along with her brothers and their wives. They all had children now. In a way, I felt strange that I hadn’t even reached that part of my life yet. I wasn’t even married. At least not yet. I knew my father had plans for me, but things changed a little after I took the crown from him and essentially imprisoned him here. Sadly, I couldn’t remain unmarried any longer, and I knew my future wife would not be anything like the incredible Queen Laelia. My father had been right. I had allowed her to distract me, to enchant me. But how could I not? “Rath?” “I know. Things are peaceful,” I said. “I fear they won’t remain so for long.” “So, the rumors of you looking for a queen are true?” Sarya asked, sitting up and looking down at me. I nodded, my eyes meeting hers, and she sighed, looking away. “I always knew the time would come,” she confessed. “You don’t love me,” I said, running my fingers over her shoulder softly. “You know you don’t.” “How can you know how I feel?” she countered, her gaze hardening. “Have you ever asked me? Or am I only good enough for you when it comes to warming your bed?” She stood up angrily, and I sighed as I sat up, watching her get dressed, pulling on dark green leather pants and a black shirt before grabbing her sword. I stood up, blocking her path before she could reach the door. “Then tell me, are you?” I questioned, looking down at her and placing my hands on her hips. We had chemistry like no other. We were comfortable in each other’s presence. There was no doubt about that. It stemmed from a long history of friendship. How could we not be comfortable with each other? We had explored each other’s bodies, discovering all those secret spots that left the other panting and begging for release. We knew more about each other than anyone else, but something was missing. She knew it too. We lacked the racing heart and the insatiable need for each other because we couldn’t get enough. “If I say yes, you’ll tell me I’m not, so you don’t have to feel so awful. If I say no, I’ll be the one leaving feeling like crap,” she remarked, her eyes still hard, but her body leaned into mine, aware of what I could do to it. It knew the pleasure I could provide, and there were many kinds. Sarya and I had not only been with each other. We had both had multiple partners. However, lately, we had returned to each other more often because we knew each other well, and there was never an awkward parting—until now. “Then say it,” I urged. “What?” “Say you love me. Let me hear the words,” I requested. She blinked a few times, as if she suspected I was playing a prank, but I wasn’t. If she genuinely believed she loved me, nothing should hinder her from saying it aloud. “Do you really want me to say them?” she inquired. “Or we can return to bed, unless you still intend to leave,” I proposed, angling myself slightly so she could see the doors better. She glanced at them, even though she was still leaning into me, and I moved closer, placing my hand on her cheek, my lips brushing over hers. “Decide. I won’t be upset, regardless of your choice. Speak, stay silent, or depart. It’s up to you,” I said softly. Her breathing grew heavier, and as I placed my other hand over hers, slowly taking her sword from her, she let go. I discarded the sword, hearing it clatter as it landed on the ground. Then I let my hands travel under her shirt, my fingers skimming over the skin of her lower stomach, rising just enough for her to understand my intentions, and she could stop me at any time. “What would you like to do, Sarya?” I whispered against her lips. I moved my hands higher, tugging her shirt along with them, and I brushed my lips over hers again, hearing her emit a slight whimper. “I know what I want,” I informed her. “And I think you want it too.” She pressed her lips together firmly before shaking her head slightly, and then she placed a hand on my neck. “You’re a jerk,” she stated, pressing our lips together firmly as she took control of the kiss.

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