Nicon

XI

XI

THE MEN IN the room swelled with pride as the King stepped in, clad in his leather jacket. Their cheers were laden with profanity and their slurred words were caused by the alcohol swirling in their wooden mugs.

"Let it be known!" the King yelled. "We are the Shifters!"

The audience exploded as the King proudly surveyed his warriors. How could he have such a lapse in judgement? This is who he is! The King of an army!

"The Council shall meet tomorrow at dawn to finalize the second phase of our plan," he announced as a burly shifter placed an overfilled mug in his hands. Nicon grinned in thanks and his warriors' thoughts ran rampant through the mind link. He's happy?

An uproar of cheers broke through the silence after Nicon's announcement and the rest of the room thumped excitedly on the ground with their feet and fists. "Let it be known!" they cheered, "We are the Shifters!"

Elysie sat quietly on the soft mattress in her room. She could hear their loud voices echoing through the corridors and a permanent frown of disgust was placed on her face. She was wrong to think she would be safe here. She scolded herself for believing she was in the first place.

Clumsily standing up, her bare feet touched the wooden floor lightly, the warmth from it causing the bottoms of her feet to tingle.

Her hands were outstretched in front of her as she aimlessly traveled around the room, no doubt looking foolish as she did so.

A small squeak left her throat as her feet touched something leathery, and Elysie hastily bent down to retrieve the object, hoping it was her bag.

A wide grin lit up her face and she grabbed the bag anxiously, relishing in the familiar touch of her leather bound journal, which she pulled out as fast as she could. She leafed through the pages, her fingers lightly brushing against her pencil drawings, careful not to smudge any of her careful strokes.

A desire to sketch burned in her fingers as they itched to grab the pencil and fill the blank pages in her journal. She knew she was just setting herself up for disappointment, however, and a heavy sigh escaped her lips as she fell into a heap on the floor, the journal still clutched in her unyielding grip.

"You wish to draw?"

Elysie's head perked up at the sound of his voice, but her feelings toward the man were nothing but dislike.

"It's rude to enter a room without first making your presence known," Elysie told him, bringing her knees to her chest and tightening her hold on the journal.

He knocked on the door twice and Elysie's lips twitched upwards slightly, but she quickly repressed her smile, hoping he did not see it. "Very well."

"You have not yet answered my question." His voice was growing closer to the girl and her heart started picking up. She longed for her sight.

"Yes, I wish to draw." Her tone was clipped and hard, and Nicon was a fool if he didn't recognize it as such.

"Have you changed your mind about joining me for dinner?"

Elysie shook her head softly. Have you changed your mind about the humans?

Silence. Then, "Did Killian also tell you that?" The King sounded bitter.

Elysie didn't think her thoughts would actually reach him, but after a few days staying at the castle, it was foolish to think she knew anything at all.

"Your warriors are quite loud, Your Highness." Her tone was nothing but resentment. "Surely you know that." She turned her face to the side to imitate not looking at him anymore, hoping it angered him.

"Don't be childish."

"Childish? You want to obliterate my race!"

"You're mundane. Would it make such a difference in the world?"

"I'm mundane, but I'm also your mate. The rejection you feel is mutual."

Nicon ignored her statement, a rare sliver of hurt penetrating his chest. "You will join me for dinner tonight, Elysie."

The slamming of a door cut off whatever retort Elysie had, and she couldn't help but let a small angry tear slide out of the corner of her eye.