The Eyllwe sun had long since risen over Elide and Lorcan's third day in the marsh, but Elide hadn't seen it in hours. Clouds had encroached upon the sky until all that remained was a gray veil, glowing faintly around the edges. There had been thick clouds on the first day as well, but they hadn't been so dark in color, or carried with them such cold air. Elide turned her face into the breeze, enjoying the refreshing touch even as she worried what the cool wind portended. If a storm flooded the area, their precious islands of safety would be submerged. Elide and Lorcan would be left to the mercy of the water beasts. Not that they would be defenseless, she thought, looking sidelong at her warrior companion as they walked.

"I don't like the idea of these islands flooding," Lorcan said suddenly, as though responding to concerns she'd voiced aloud. "Magic or not, if it comes down to a fight in deep water, these creatures will have the advantage."

"Maybe you should have played the fortune teller, since you're so adept at reading minds," Elide replied with a laugh. Lorcan's eyes snapped to hers, looking uncharacteristically startled.

"Why would you say that?" There was an odd tension in his voice.

"When you spoke, I had just been thinking about the dangers of a storm." Elide couldn't understand why Lorcan looked so grave at her words. Surely the cold breeze had put them both in mind of impending rain; she wasn't truly accusing him of hearing her thoughts.

"The rain will be after sunset, if it comes at all," was Lorcan's only reply. Elide couldn't help but wonder if she had offended him somehow. Perhaps telepathy was considered very impolite amongst the Fae? No, that couldn't be it. Lorcan had already demonstrated a clear disregard for etiquette of any kind. Could it be worse than bad social form, maybe even a crime, to read minds? She'd never heard of such a thing, but she knew little of Fae customs.

After pondering his strange reaction for another mile, she decided to broach the subject again.

"Lorcan?" He grunted in acknowledgement. "Are there actually Fae who can read thoughts?" She heard him draw a deep breath in and out. He did not turn to look at her, but she could see a muscle jumping in his jaw. Elide was utterly bewildered at these glimpses of discomposure from such a stoic male.

Clearly, she had stumbled upon a touchy subject. A minute passed before he answered, "Yes," so softly she almost missed it. Elide saw his shoulders rise in another long inhale before he turned to face her and continued more normally, "It's usually only possible across certain…bonds." He hesitated a moment before the last word, a groove appearing between his eyebrows. "Carranam can communicate telepathically."

"I've never heard that word before. What does it mean?"

"Carranam are Fae with a powerful bond that makes them formidable in battle. For it to form properly, their magics have to be perfectly compatible. It's extremely rare. The only true Carranam I've seen in the last century were your queen and Rowan Whitethorn."

Elide took a minute to absorb this information. It was interesting, but still didn't explain his peculiar reaction. She wondered if he'd had this bond with a warrior who'd died, and her questions had reminded him of a past grief. She was so preoccupied with the thought that she didn't notice when her boot lace came unraveled. Stepping on the trailing end, she tripped headlong toward the swampy ground. Right before she would have splashed into the mud, a pair of strong hands grabbed her around the waist and stopped her fall. To Elide's utter humiliation– and despite her vocal protests– Lorcan then picked her up and deposited her on a low stone wall. Behind her was a skeletal tree, and Elide brushed the sharp branches away in irritation. Bending down to tie her boot with deft fingers, Lorcan muttered, "Do humans not even have the ability to tie boot laces properly?" There was no heat behind the words, though.

"I was distracted by wondering why mind-reading is such an upsetting subject for you," Elide retorted. Lorcan straightened back up, the furrow between his eyes deepening. Sitting on the wall, Elide was nearly eye-level with him. He placed a hand on the stone to either side of her, standing close as though challenging her to shy away. Elide straightened her spine, and met his gaze without blinking.

"There is another type of bond that allows the sharing of thoughts. The mating bond." Lorcan's black eyes seemed to have a gravity of their own, and Elide couldn't help but lean closer. His eyes were searching hers with surprising intensity. What exactly was he looking for? Elide was so absorbed in his gaze that it took a moment to process his words.

"The mating bond? Did you have a mate once?" The question was a whisper. Perhaps it had been a mate he'd lost, not his Carranam.

"No…I have never had a Fae mate," he replied slowly, as though choosing his words with care. His face was mere inches away. How had she never noticed that tiny scar at the edge of his eyebrow? He glanced down momentarily at her lips, and Elide was transfixed by the movement of his dark lashes. They breathed in and out together as though sharing one set of lungs. She felt like the moon, drawing each exhale from him in a rising tide, circling at a distance but always, irrevocably connected. And suddenly that connection felt stronger than ever before, a tether pulling taut in her body and mind. The careful orbit they'd maintained was destabilizing, and she was hurtling to earth, toward his warm breath on her mouth–

"Aahh!" Elide shrieked as something landed on her shoulder. After a confused moment of flailing limbs, Lorcan stepped back, brandishing the culprit in a fist: a red and gray banded snake.

"Must have dropped from the tree branch," Lorcan said flatly. It hissed, flicking its long tongue in anger. Lorcan spared the snake a single look of disgust before throwing it into the swamp. When he turned back to her, his expression was neutral, his eyes cold and distant as the stars. "Let's get moving. Your shouting might have drawn the beasts."

Elide stared at Lorcan in stunned silence for the space of two heartbeats. Then, with a haughty glare that would have made Manon proud, she slid from the wall and strode past him without a word. Lorcan was wise enough to remain silent as he followed her. It didn't escape her notice that she still hadn't learned why mind-reading was such a sensitive subject, but she decided to drop it. Lorcan was entitled to his secrets, especially when they weren't relevant to her or to their quest.

Having put that question aside, Elide was still faced with the fact that Lorcan had almost kissed her just now. Or maybe she had almost kissed him– she wasn't sure. A cynical part of her mind suggested that he had merely been trying to distract her from asking more questions, but she quickly rejected that thought. He had certainly been mercurial in his attitude lately, but his attraction to her was blatant and unchanging. Elide had brushed it off in the past, but could no longer pretend it was only her imagination. Neither could she deny that the feeling was mutual.

She remembered Lorcan asking her in that carnival tent whether she was attracted to men or women. At the time, she hadn't been able to answer. She'd never had the luxury of exploring those types of feelings because she'd never been safe enough. How had her body decided that here– traversing flooded and crumbling ruins, chased by monstrous freaks of evolution, and surrounded by the unquiet dead– was the best time and place to develop a distracting attraction to her companion? Though, if she were honest with herself, this had been growing for some time, and her feelings went deeper than simple attraction.

She glanced beside her at Lorcan, striding through the marsh. Really, it was no mystery why she felt safe despite the circumstances. This male was like something out of legend: centuries old, commanding death at his fingertips, the chosen warrior of Hellas. And, no matter what he pretended when he was in a foul mood, he was also wholly and utterly devoted to her protection. Elide was certain that he would do everything in his power to protect her. He'd made her a promise and, for some reason, she trusted his word implicitly.

Lorcan could be a callous, emotionally-repressed bastard at times, but Elide thought that taciturn brand of chivalry might be part of his appeal. She wouldn't have the patience for excessive flattery and outpourings of emotion. It also didn't hurt that he was the size of a mountain range. Based on his appearance alone, was there anyone with eyes that wouldn't be attracted to him? He looked like a statue come alive, larger than life and chiseled from stone. But it wasn't the absurdly broad shoulders or generous expanse of muscle that held the most sway for Elide; it was those depthless eyes.

Lorcan's eyes were cold, hard, and unforgiving– the kind of stare that most living creatures were not able to meet– but to Elide they felt intimate and inviting. Lately it seemed that the longer she held his gaze, the closer she drifted to him. Just now, she had been so near she could almost taste him. Gods, had that actually happened? Had she lost her mind? One minute she'd been fully in control of her senses, resolved to question him over his strange reactions, and then she'd been overcome by that unshakeable feeling of connection, unable to draw away. If this was what lust felt like, how did anyone get anything done? She was supposed to be searching for her queen, but Lorcan had consumed her mind all day. Though perhaps Elide had been avoiding thoughts of Aelin. Perhaps she didn't want to confront her worries about what would happen when they found Terrassen's long-lost ruler.

"Lorcan, do you think Aelin will have any use for me?" She braced herself for the reply, knowing that Lorcan would favor honesty over flattery.

"If she can't find a use for you, then she's an idiot in addition to being a heinous bitch."

"Oh. You're not saying that to be…polite, are you?" Lorcan shot her a look that very clearly said Did you forget who you were talking to? "My mistake," she laughed. "That's just not what I expected you to say."

"Why?"

"Because I'm…"

"The size of a child?" Lorcan finished for her, smirking.

"Illiterate and maimed." Lorcan frowned, and Elide somehow knew that neither of those things had occurred to him.

"Being illiterate is not the same as being ignorant. As soon as you have time and a teacher, you will learn your letters."

"That opportunity is likely very far away. And until then, I can't even read a map."

"You can read people, which is a far more valuable skill."

"That's dangerously close to being a compliment," Elide replied with a grin, thinking that perhaps he'd decided to try out flattery after all. Lorcan gave her a withering look.

"It's not a compliment; it's an observation. I've seen you walk into a group of strangers and immediately know who's in charge, who's sleeping together, and who can be pressed for information. That is a talent that anyone fighting a war would kill to acquire." The smile faded from her lips at that sobering thought.

"Well, there's still the problem of my ankle." She had grown used to the constant bracing of Lorcan's magic, but would he be around to continue that support once he got what he wanted from Aelin?

"Your ankle didn't seem to hinder you when you killed that ilken." There was something warm in his voice then, like pride. They walked on, Elide feeling encouraged.

Unfortunately, her spirits didn't stay buoyed for long. The first peal of distant thunder rumbled over them as the sun was nearing the horizon. A storm was approaching, and they were completely exposed. As they neared the city at the center of the Marsh, the stone structures were becoming grander, but very few ceilings remained. It had been more than an hour since Elide last saw a portion of intact roof.

"How will we shield ourselves from the rain?"

"We can't," Lorcan replied darkly. "Even if we could find an overhang in the ruins, I wouldn't trust it not to fall on our heads in the storm."

"Perhaps demi-fae are impervious to water, but humans can become seriously ill if they are rained on all night."

"I won't let that happen. But first, we need to find high ground."

They continued on at a brisk pace, searching the flat swamplands for a place where they would be elevated above the rivers that were soon to form with the rainfall. By the time they found something suitable, the breeze had become a gale. Elide, shielding her eyes from the stinging wind, stood before the shell of a statue so worn and crumbled with time that she couldn't tell what it had once depicted. It was housed on a plinth that was taller than Lorcan.

"Is it safe? Won't this be like sleeping on a lightning rod?" Elide asked.

"There's plenty of walls in the area that are taller. We'll have to take the risk."

Wasting no time, he grabbed her around the waist and lifted until she could reach the edge of the plinth. Her hands secure, he locked his fingers beneath her boots and raised the makeshift platform until she could scramble over the top. He pulled himself up after her with impressive ease.

Just as he stood up beside her, the sun slipped below the horizon. Lorcan's earlier prediction held true; the first raindrops fell moments later. Using what little light remained, Elide looked at their bed for the night. The plinth was massive, but most of the space was dominated by the base of the statue. There wouldn't be room for both of them to sit, let alone lie down to sleep. Not that they would be getting much sleep, she reflected bitterly. The thunder was now cracking so loudly, the wind screaming so shrilly, that she couldn't hear the chorus of the dead for the first time in days. Already she was shivering, though the rain had just begun. Did Lorcan realize that humans could die if they got too cold and wet?

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, did Lorcan shout over the storm, "I can shield us from the worst of the rain. You won't be comfortable, but you will be safe. I promise." Elide simply nodded, thinking that now wasn't the time to make another joke about mind-reading. Lorcan turned back to the statue, and she could see the moment he realized they weren't both going to fit. He leaned against the side of the statue and gestured to the open space at the bottom as he said, "All yours. It's going to be a long night."

"Don't be ridiculous. You've barely slept for days. You can't stand there all night." Lorcan opened his mouth to argue but Elide cut him off, anticipating his retort. "Yes, I know, you aren't a fragile human, but immortal warriors need sleep too. You're being absurd." Lorcan's lips were pressed closed now, and he was eyeing her warily. "We both need sleep tonight, so we should settle in and get your shield up before the downpour begins." She jabbed a finger at him. "Sit. Now."

Looking aggrieved, but without protest, Lorcan lowered himself to the plinth and situated his back against the statue. His legs dangled over the edge, and his shoulders dwarfed the available space. Elide was left standing in the one square foot that his enormous frame didn't fill. He tilted his head back and looked up at her, eyebrows raised as if to say What now? Elide took a deep breath to steady herself. "Now, we get comfortable." Without room to maneuver, there was no graceful way to go about this. She dropped into Lorcan's lap so hard that he let out a soft oof as the air was knocked out of him.

"Sorry," Elide muttered, adjusting herself so that she was sitting sideways across Lorcan's thighs. He lifted a hand, palm toward the sky, and suddenly the shield was in place. Even though there was no visible change in the air around them, it felt like stepping through a door and out of the storm. While the trees around them still bent under the pressure of the wind, the air in their bubble was calm and quiet. She could hear the rain softly striking the invisible barrier above their heads, the thunder reduced to a soft rumble. Looking up, she tentatively reached her fingers toward the sky until they cleared the edge of the shield, once more exposed to the wind and rain. She smiled, drawing her hand back.

"Most people would not be smiling in this situation," Lorcan said quietly. He was finger-brushing his hair, loosening the snarls that the violent wind had created. Elide smiled even more broadly at the sight.

"I'm smiling at your magic." She plucked a twig out of his hair, laughing. "And because I had been assuming that your fae powers gave you permanently knot-free hair."

"My magic?" His hands stilled. He cocked his head to the side, as though not understanding her words.

She twisted to face him, picking up the task of detangling his hair. "Yes. We're outside, in the middle of a terrible storm, but we are safe and dry." His silky hair needed only slight persuasion to come untangled, sliding through her hands like a caress. His eyes had closed at her gentle ministrations. "Perhaps you're used to such things, so you don't see the wonder in them anymore."

"My powers bring most people pain and death. They aren't good for much else." There was no sadness or regret in the words, only a statement of fact that he had long since accepted.

"They also protect. There's more to you than death." Lorcan's inky hair fell in straight lines once more, but Elide didn't want to stop touching him. She brushed his hair behind an ear, tracing the small point at the top.

Lorcan's eyes were open as he replied, "If you say so." Elide met his gaze. Instantly, that feeling of intense connection came again, like a physical force was drawing her toward him. Following its pull, she leaned forward, placing her head on his chest. Lorcan was still for several moments, as though surprised. With her ear over his heart, she thought she heard it beat just a little faster. Slowly, he brought his arms around her. Delighting in the warmth radiating from him, she wiggled closer, seeking heat. She curled her hands around his bicep, pressing his arm against her chest, and sighed. She had been joking before, but she actually was surprisingly comfortable. She inhaled deeply, reassured by the now-familiar scent of him. When she felt him stiffen beneath her, she smiled to herself, but said nothing.

Lorcan cleared his throat, his voice low and hoarse as he said, "I'll stay awake at least until the storm dies out. I can't keep the shield up in my sleep."

"I trust you," Elide replied simply.

"I know." There was something strange in his voice then, like sadness or fear. But, before she could discern what it was, the warmth of Lorcan's body and the sound of the rain lulled her to sleep.