The following days brought Leonie not a single moment of real rest, and they all followed the same pattern. At night, Dorian slept beside her. Each morning, she trained with a different elf. After training, they mounted up; she rode with Marcus and spent the journey thinking.
She mulled over her talks with Filarion, Dorian's behavior, and every lesson she'd learned that day.
To her surprise, she was slowly starting to feel at home among the elves—Xavier aside, all of them treated her kindly. The old elf, however, remained wary and distant, a constant reminder of the welcome that most likely awaited her in the elven court. That thought weighed more heavily on her as the days passed.
She couldn't make sense of Dorian's behavior either. He barely spoke to her and seemed tense all the time, and Leonie kept wondering what she might have done to anger him. Perhaps this Revna the others had mentioned was the reason. Maybe Dorian didn't want her to misinterpret his closeness. It didn't help her confusion that, despite all this, he still lay down beside her every night, woke her from her nightmares, and soothed her until she fell asleep again.
On the eighth morning, Leonie woke feeling as if someone had soundly beaten her the night before. Every muscle ached from yesterday's training with Marcus. He was teaching her to fight, with very limited success. She handled a sword awkwardly, and wasn't nearly strong enough to hold it properly.
Groaning, she pushed herself up from the ground—just in time to hear Nir's enthusiastic shout.
"Ready? We're going to do a lot of running today!"
While Aeson tried to coax a spark of magic from her, and Filarion lectured endlessly about the bond between nature and magic, Nir focused on sharpening her senses—with equally limited results so far.
"I can't wait," she replied with a smile. She liked Nir; his constant cheer and playfulness made it easy to forget everything that weighed on her.
"Come on," he urged, like an eager puppy waiting for his daily walk.
Leonie quickly gathered herself together and motioned for him to lead the way. She didn't even bother looking for Dorian anymore, convinced he wouldn't spare her a glance. She had no idea that he was watching her from a distance, constantly.
"And where exactly are we running to?" she asked, curious. "You do know Marcus had me training for hours yesterday, right? I'm not sure I can move that much today."
Nir just waved a hand dismissively.
"Today we're working on your coordination and your speed. So… we're going to play tag."
Leonie stopped dead and stared at him. Yes, he looked young, but as she'd learned, he was already three hundred and sixty-eight years old. Why on earth would he want to play tag?
It was so absurd that laughter bubbled up out of her.
"Fun, isn't it?" he clapped his hands together in delight, then tapped her lightly on the nose.
"Catch me if you can."
He shot away with such speed that Leonie could barely track where he vanished into the trees.
"Don't be so slow!" his laughter drifted back, and Leonie broke into a run. She wasn't nearly as fast as he was, but she did eventually catch up—only to find him leaning against a tree, watching her with theatrically bored patience.
"Faster. Feel the magic flow through your body and lend you strength."
The moment she reached for him, he darted away again, and the game started over.
Again and again he repeated the trick.
"Come on, you're getting better. You almost had me that time," he said with a wicked grin, while Leonie felt everything except magic. It was all she could do not to trip over every root and stone, much less speed up. Irritation started to build inside her—and with it came the faintest pulse of something else in her limbs. Magic.
"Better. Now you might even outrun my grandmother. Or maybe not. She's in pretty good shape for her age," he teased.
And then, something happened.
The world around Leonie seemed to blur as, after another quick change of direction, she sprinted after Nir. No one had warned her how she was supposed to avoid the trees at that kind of speed. Moments later, she slammed full force into a thick trunk and crashed to the ground with a loud thud.
"Leonie, are you all right?" Nir called, suddenly alarmed, and rushed to her side. He dropped to his knees next to her, leaning over her.
"How many of me do you see?"
She'd hit the tree hard, but she barely felt the impact. Maybe everything already hurt, so it didn't make much difference—or maybe it was the flood of adrenaline.
She grabbed his arm.
"I'm fine," she said, grinning.
Nir gaped at her for a heartbeat, then burst into loud laughter, and Leonie joined in. They laughed for a good thirty seconds before he spoke again.
"Then run. I'll give you a minute's head start. Maybe then you'll make it to the next tree."
Leonie's eyes widened, then she sprang to her feet and took off. She didn't notice the figure standing by one of the trees, watching them.
In the past eight days, Dorian had walked through all nine hells. Keeping his distance from Leonie had become an obsession. He barely spoke to her and watched her only from afar. Marcus and Filarion had both tried to talk sense into him, but they didn't know what Dorian knew—that he'd come dangerously close to the girl. Every part of him yearned for her; even his magic reached for hers whenever she was near.
At night he saw her nightmares, lived them with her, and woke as drenched in sweat as she did. In the morning, he woke once more, sweat-soaked again, because it was all he could do to control his body's reaction to her. Daytime was the only respite he had, when they rode separately—yet his gaze constantly drifted back to her.
He was jealous of Marcus, who wrapped his arms around her and talked with her for hours on the road. Jealous of everyone who trained with her and could be close to her. And apart from Xavier, every one of his friends seemed to adore Leonie.
How could they not? She was special. Kind and friendly, with such a pure heart. In such a short time, she'd genuinely started to care about each of them. One night she'd insisted on making a healing salve for Aeson after he'd sliced himself with his sword. The cut had been fairly deep, but elves healed quickly—he hadn't needed it. Leonie had still gone to gather herbs herself, brewed the ointment and bandaged the wound.
Of course they were all smitten with her…
That morning Nir had practically been wagging his tail as he bounced around her, like he was in love. Dorian had watched the pair with a dark expression as they disappeared among the trees. Marcus, naturally, had made a thoroughly indecent remark about how it was high time Dorian found a woman and let off some steam. Dorian had ignored him and kept staring at the forest where Leonie had vanished.
Half an hour later, he heard Nir shout her name—and it was as if he'd been waiting for that. He sprang to his feet and shot off in the direction of the sound.
By the time he reached them, he found Leonie lying on the ground, Nir kneeling beside her, and both of them laughing. His throat went dry. He had never seen Leonie laugh like that. She looked… unearthly beautiful. And it was Nir who had dragged that out of her.
Jealousy and resentment washed through him, driving out every rational thought. Dorian stepped out from between the trees just as Leonie took off running again. She didn't notice him, but Nir did, and glanced over with raised eyebrows.
Dorian jerked his chin, a silent order for him to leave. Disappointment flickered across Nir's face for an instant, but he turned without a word and left them alone.
And Dorian set off to play tag.