The Dark Elf’s Surprise Baby (Secret Babies For Prothekan Dark Elves Book 2) -
The Dark Elf’s Surprise Baby: Chapter 17
I realize that I am more drunk than I thought.
Usually one bottle of elf spirits isn’t enough to make me drunk, but maybe this bottle was left standing for much longer than the others.
Or maybe I am just becoming a lightweight again.
Because as I stand, looking at the night sky, I feel something, or someone, watching me.
It is an eerie feeling, but first I put it down to the spirits.
I must have become a lightweight. That is definitely it. There isn’t much chance to drink while on expedition.
I turn, ready to head back inside and grab another bottle, when I see her from the corner of my eye.
She is staring at me from the window, one of her delicate hands pressed up against the glass.
Harper is biting her lip, and her brow is furrowed.
But suddenly my vision grows cloudy around the edges. The alcohol is settling in.
My view of Harper becomes equally cloudy.
Maybe it isn’t really her. Maybe it isn’t the woman who had a child with another man.
I discard the idea of going back inside for more alcohol. Kerym and Layla will surely be waiting there for me, ready to shepherd me home.
I walk further and further away from the windows and the merriment inside. I am very drunk, I decide.
Too drunk to speak to anyone, too drunk to even walk properly.
All I can do, all I want to do, is to turn around and fall into Harper’s arms.
But I can’t even do that. She is bound to someone else now. Someone who she probably loves. What woman wouldn’t love the father of their child?
My thoughts are distorted and practically bouncing off the insides of my mind.
Would it have been better that I never knew about Harper getting into another man’s bed only months after I left?
Would it have been better for me to live, unknowing, and maybe happier, for the rest of my life?
The gardens have many winding pathways and now I turn down one. I want to stay outside and away from Kerym and Layla as long as possible.
I just want to be on my own.
I am quite far away from the hall where the party is being held when I hear the footsteps behind me.
The footsteps are light and are accompanied by the rustling of a dress. Shallow breathing whispers like birdsong through the night.
I know those footsteps. I remember Harper running back to the mansion a dozen times before I left, after forgetting one thing or the other.
When I was away, I heard those footsteps, a thousand times, during waking and sleeping times.
Hearing those footsteps became something of a nightmare to me.
She is behind me when I whirl around and grab her by the wrist.
The night is dark, almost too dark for me to see her. I drop the bottle and it falls and smashes with a deafening crash.
Harper’s eyes are wide with fright and her lips are parted.
It is her. I know it is her. I have never been more sure of something, even if I am very drunk.
Before she can say anything, my hands are going to her waist and I am pushing her against the wall of the building behind us.
She cries out with pain, and I let go of her immediately. Her breathing is as erratic as mine.
It is really her. Harper is in front of me, looking up at me with those hazel eyes that still look like a kaleidoscope after all these years.
Harper, the love of my life, the woman I have craved more than anything in the past few years.
She is standing in front of me.
I know that I am too drunk to say or do anything with any sense. I have sense enough for that at least.
Warmth that is unrelated to the alcohol spreads throughout my body.
I am holding her, Harper, my love.
But the warmth, which I have figured out is happiness, quickly turns to grief as I remember Kerym’s words.
“Adelaide is human.”
The words bolt through my mind with such force that I am left shaking.
“How could you do this to me?” I speak before I am conscious of it. “How could you do this to me?” Harper betrayed me. The truth of it is sinking in now. “How could you betray me? I would have waited for you.”
I let go of her and she staggers back against the wall. There are tears welling up in her eyes.
I don’t miss that her wrist is bruised where I held onto it.
Guilt surges violently through me.
“Is it really you?” Confusion and fear flickers through Harper’s eyes. I stumble off to the side.
You’re too drunk for this. My inner voice warns me.
When I look at her again, my eyes finally focus on her properly, and I know it is really her.
Harper is standing in front of me, in all her breathtaking glory.
Her body still looks the same; soft, and lush and lithe. Her light, bright hair is pinned away from her face in a bun, but several errant strands have escaped.
Harper’s hazel eyes, though cloudy with tears, are still bright and as gentle as they were when I knew her.
I can smell her scent, and I can practically taste her skin.
It is her.
“I would have waited for you.” I whisper the words. “I still love you. I would have waited for you.”
I say the words over and over again.
Because it is the truth. If the roles had been reversed, I would have waited for Harper until the end of my lifespan and hers.
“Demethys.” Her voice still sounds the same when she says my name. Breathy and soft. “Demethys, please.” I do not allow her to continue speaking.
Instead I walk back to her and slide my arms around her waist. She goes still, sagging against me.
We are leaning into one another. And I do not think that either of us have anything to say.
We have been apart for too long, and even though I know she is with someone else, I can feel her desire for me.
I can feel it in the way she clutches at me. I can feel it in the way that she places her face in my neck and inhales my scent.
Gods, I have missed her.
All I want is to stay like this forever. I want to forget about everything else. Including the fact that she has hurt me beyond repair.
My hands slide from her waist down to her hips. She presses herself against me.
The night has grown darker. The air is permeated with Harper’s perfume, and the fragrance of the flowers around us.
When I lean my head against hers, our lips are only a breath apart from one another.
She lifts her head and her lips brush against mine for only a second. But I pull away, and I feel her stiffen in my arms.
Harper thinks I have just rejected her.
And as much as I want to, I don’t think I will ever have the strength to turn her down. And certainly not now, when I am drunk, and she is soft and hot in my arms.
But every time that I want to bend down and take her mouth in mine, I see unbidden images of Harper in the arms of another man.
All I see is Harper naked, with another man’s arms wrapped around her waist.
I pull away from her, still holding onto her, inhaling deeply. The cold air helps to clear my head slightly, but not by much.
I want to ask her why she betrayed me. I want to ask her why she gave up on me so quickly. I want to ask her why I wasn’t enough.
But instead, my body and brain gives in to the one desire I have had for four years.
And I kiss her.
My right hand goes to cup her face when our lips meet. Her breath comes out in a whimper.
She pushes her body against mine and I slide my left hand around her waist. I know that I am holding onto her for dear life.
The kiss becomes uncontrollable quickly. It becomes wild and violent and passionate.
It seems that I am not the only one who has missed this over the past four years.
Harper pushes against me, and her hands snake around my shoulders. She clings onto me from there.
I pull away from her when another image of her with the faceless father of her child comes to mind.
But the sight of her, with her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted, is too much for me to bear.
I lean down and our lips meet again. The kiss is deep, desperate, and filled with grief.
I just do not think that Harper and I are grieving the same things.
I am heartbroken because of her betrayal and the potential family I have just lost. But why is she heartbroken?
Why do I feel her tears trailing down my skin?
The kiss continues even throughout all these emotions that neither of us are in control of.
One thing I know for certain is that Harper wants me as much as I want her.
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