Chapter 43

"What's wrong?" Damion asks, immediately on edge. His dark eyes rake over me, searching for injury or any sign of distress, "What happened?"

I peer up into his face with wide eyes, "Didn't you feel that?"

"What did you feel?" He asks, his dark brow furrowing together.

"Is it her fever?" Arden murmurs worriedly under her breath to Xavier and Damion, "Maybe it's getting worse."

I wiggle in Damion's arms until he gently sets me down and my shoeless, sock covered feet are resting on the cobblestone tunnel path.

Taking a shaky step toward the wall and pressing my palm against the stone. I expect it to be cold against my skin, but it's warm as if the mountain is lit with an inner, unseen fire. I gasp as another pulse shakes through the earth, prickling my fingers like an electric shock, "*There it is again*."

"I didn't feel anything," Xavier hisses under his breath to the others, "Did either of you?"

"It's likethe earth is humming," I whisper to myself, staring up at the walls of the tunnel in confusion, "How is that possible?"

A deep, unfamiliar voice, breaks the tense silence that falls between us, "What you're referring to is known as the Beating Heart of Elfhame."

I spin around to face the unexpected pair of strangers that now stands a few paces away. I have no idea who they are or where they could have possibly come from in this narrow strip of tunnel, and the shifters tense as well as if just as shocked by the newcomers as I am. The man and woman standing a few paces away from us are both tall and willowy, hands folded in front of them gracefully as they study us each in turn.

The man-elf-has long snowy white hair that hangs in sleek sheets down his shoulders. He stands nearly as tall as Damion does, though maybe an inch or two shorter. And while he's almost the same height, he's not nearly as broad as the shifter King is. The male elf is thinner, less muscled and more lithe. His skin is pristine, not a wrinkle in sight, but there's a certain agelessness about his eyes that makes me think that he's not nearly as young as he appears.

"King Damion Lothbrook," The male says, with a voice that sounds like the low ringing of a passing breeze, "It's been many years since we have had the pleasure."

Damion stiffly tilts his chin in greeting, "Elder Elandorr, Elder Aelrie," he says in greeting as he moves to stand beside me. He ends up partially blocking the elves view of me with his body in a protective stance.

"Given that only elves can feel the Beating Heart, I take it that it was this young woman who was the one to get you past the walls?" The deep timbre of Elder Elandorr's voice is rife with disapproval. The male elf turns his gaze solely on me, ignoring the shocked stares of the shifter guards flanking us and Damion's protective stance entirely, "What's your name child?"

I shift on unsteady legs to better see around Damion's broad shoulders, "Lily," I say, staring into the opalescent gleaming in the older man's eyes, "Liliana Montegard."

A single line forms between Elandorr's snowy eyebrows, "Montegard, you say?"

I nod.

The female elf-the one Damion had called Elder Aelrie-is as tall and graceful as the male elf, and has long chestnut brown hair. Her wise, wide set almond shaped eyes are the same shade as her hair and as she eyes me with a too-knowing perusing gaze, worried lines form around her rosy lips, "She's in the latter stages of the Fading," she warns in a hushed voice, "I can feel it even from here. We need to hurry."

"That's why we brought her here," Damion tells them, and while his voice is calm, there's a tension in his back that tells me he's not as unaffected as he appears, "we suspected her lineage was rooted here and determined you would be able to help her."

"Yes," Elder Aelrie agrees, "If it was indeed her blood that was able to grant you entrance through the wall and she is able to hear the Beating Heart then you brought her to the correct place. Though it seems impossible to have a long lost bloodline among your people. You've proved yourself a true ally to us yet again your majesty. Thank you for bringing one of our own back to us, we can take it from here."

The female's words sound like a clear dismissal and I turn my wide, panic-stricken eyes up to Damion.

The thought of him leaving me here among these strangers has weighted dread settling over my shoulders and the pit of my stomach to twist uncomfortably.

Damion's eyes latch onto mine for a single heated, desperate moment. Whatever he sees there has him nodding, "Wherever it is you plan to take her, I'm coming. I'm not leaving her."

Those simple self-assured words send grateful tears springing in my eyes. His tone leaves no room for argument, every inch of his voice drenched in authority.

Elder Elandorr stiffens, "I'm afraid that won't be possible-"

Damion cuts the male elf's protest off with a menacing look, "Our people may have benefited from centuries of alliances," his voice is a dangerous, darkly cutting strike, "But make no mistake that I will cut you to the ground if I need to Elandorr."

A single stress filled moment passes like a thick cloud.

"Alright," Elandorr grunts stiffly, "Though your companions will have to stay in the initial holding room."

When Damion nods his agreement to his terms, the female elf moves to the side to open a hidden door in the cobble stone wall, revealing how they were able to sneak up on the shifters. With willowy frames and in their flowing robes, they appear to be float forward to the hidden pathway. A dark cavernous looking hole in the earth. My stomach lurches at the prospect of following them into the mountain's depths.

While I stare at the dark opening into the mountain, a light touch to my shoulder and waist are the only warning I get before Damion sweeps me up off his feet and into his arms to carry me. I don't even bother to argue this time. Now that the initial adrenaline had begun to wear off, I was feeling more shaky and light headed than even before, my stomach in nauseating knots.

The relief of having Damion with me is enough to have me clinging to his warm neck in shaky relief.

Elandorr raises an imperious brow, his glassy cheeks indenting as if he's tasted something sour and says, "Follow me."

Damion gives my legs a reassuring squeeze as he follows the elves into he dark tunnel opening.