Not Magic Enough by Valerie Douglas Page B

was uncommon in her.
    “Speak,” he said, fairly certain he knew what it was that troubled her, “there is nothing you cannot ask me, Ailith.”
    “You love Delae,” she said.
    He nodded. “More than my life.”
    It was no more than the truth, if it came to that.
    A breath went out of her. “But it’s not a soul-bond.”
    “No,” he said, stepping back and away.
    It was too serious a discussion for sparring.
    “If I could have that with Delae, I would,” he said with a sigh, “but I can’t.”
    He did wish it.
    With a nod, Ailith put up her sword, too, to come sit beside him on the rock.
    “Because she’s not Elf?”
    Dorovan took a breath and shook his head. “No. I can’t explain it. I know what I have with Delae is a true bond, just not a soul-bond although I love her deeply. So it’s not that. With a soul-bond, it’s…different… In what way I don’t know, as I haven’t found mine, it just isn’t. But know this, I love Delae deeply and her company stands in place of that bond.”
    “I know,” Ailith said, clearly more at ease.
    “And I love you too, little one,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead in a rare show of affection.
    She was growing so fast, as all children did, Elf or man. In a way, it pained him. He wished to keep her young, keep her safe. It would be hard to watch her grow old and die as he watched Delae age.
    “Thanks, Dorovan,” she said, “I love you, too.”
    “I know,” he said, mimicking her tone.
    She smiled.
    “Forms?” he said and she jumped down from the stone.
    They took up position side by side, moving nearly as one, smoothly, from guard to attack, from parry to thrust, in the rhythm of the forms.

Chapter Twelve
     
    Riding to Delae’s homestead, Dorovan had felt an odd…presentiment…a shadow of sorts. Although some Elves had stronger magic, Dorovan knew he had only such as all Elves were born with, the strength and resilience of his body, the empathy of their race, the ability to create Elven lights in the darkness, and a trace of Healing. His own truest magic was in his skill with his swords, in his ability to pass those skills on to others. Like Ailith.
    He had no ability to foresee…and yet…
    Now he delighted in Delae’s body, in the pleasure she took from him and what he took from her, in her quick responsiveness, in the way her body trembled and quivered. He loved the taste and the feel of her.
    The feel of his long silky hair brushing over her stomach as his mouth did wonderful things to her drove all thought from Delae’s mind as heat built within her and her breath came short. Her body went limp, twitching helplessly at the touch of his tongue, his warm mouth on her.
    Her hands fell away as her body quivered.
    Dorovan surged up, impaling her on him and she cried out, locking around him as she trembled wildly, her body closing around him, stroking him. With a cry of his own he poured into her, shuddering, his body rigid as he emptied himself into her.
    It had been true when Ailith had asked it and it was true now. If he could have had a soul-bond with Delae, no matter what race she was, he would have.
    Curling around her, he drew her body close to his. So precious to him, this life.
    “Ailith is troubled,” Delae said.
    Nodding, worried himself, Dorovan said, “You are, too.”
    “There’s a darkness…” Delae said.
    Startled, he rose on an elbow to look down at her. “Yes. You feel it, too?”
    “It’s growing,” she said and shivered.
    Dorovan nodded, pulling her close, wishing he could protect her - could protect all of them from what was coming.
    “I think even Geric senses it, he’s been acting very strange lately,” she said, curling into the warmth of Dorovan’s long, strong body, running her hands over the muscles of his chest.
    Dorovan cradled her against him, wishing he could bring her with him to Talaena where she would be safer, but he couldn’t.
    “I gave Ailith the swords,” he said and smiled. “I wish you