Eon crouched down beside the overturned bed, his fingers tracing the deep gouges in the wooden floorboards. ‘The dark elf’s claws must have done this, no, not claws. Fingernails?’ How sharp her fingernails are for it to carve into the wood like it was wet parchment?!’ Eon gets worried for whoever encounters her now that she is free and well fed.
"You said five minutes?" Eon asked, not looking up.
Elsa’s voice was tight. "Yeah, give or take. We were checking the other rooms when we heard the commotion downstairs."
Eon stood, dusting his hands off. The manacles lay twisted on the floor, the iron bent like ribbons. He heard about dark elves' immense strength, but this was on another level. Clearly nobody could have guessed this would happen. So blaming others is not the right solution right now.
"Verra, take the east wing. Elsa, you’re with me on the west. Check every closet, every storage room, every goddamn broom cupboard. She’s still here." His voice was low, but it carried the weight of certainty. "And she must be running with the intention of escaping. So we gotta close the gates first. I think she might harm anyone who gets in her way."
The corridor leading to the main gate was eerily quiet, the morning light slanting through the high windows in pale golden bars. Eon moved silently, his boots making no sound on the polished stone. He had a rough guess about where she would be right now, after all this was Alaric's house. There were very few ways for someone to escape from this fortress-like mansion.
And there she was.
The dark elf stood in the center of the corridor, her back to him, her wrists raw and bleeding from where she’d fought against the manacles for trying to free her hands. Her raven-black hair was spread around her shoulders, her spine rigid with tension.
Four mages stood in a loose semicircle around her, their staves raised at her, spells flickering at their fingertips like dying embers. They looked nervous. And no wonder. Just from the looks of her figure, one could tell she was as dangerous as a woman can get. Not to mention her eyes were filled with rage, and she was breathing heavily like a cornered animal. So they were very tense and stayed at least 10 feet away from her.
Eon stepped forward slowly, not glancing at anyone, just keeping his gaze at the woman in front of him, and placed himself between the mages and the dark elf.
The moment she saw him, she whirled, her pale eyes locking onto him like a blade finding its sheath. Her lips peeled back in a snarl, blood smeared across her chin. "You again?"
Eon didn’t flinch.
One of the mages, a big-looking man with a receding hairline, cleared his throat. "Uhh, why is he…."
"Quiet." Eon didn’t look at him. His gaze never left the dark elf’s face. "You’re making quite a scene."
The woman let out a low, guttural laugh. It wasn’t the sound of her amusement. It was the sound of a wolf sighting prey. "A scene? You dare talk to me of scenes, pet?"
Eon tilted his head. "Pet?"
Her fingers twitched, her nails, still caked with dried blood, flexing like claws. "Don’t play dumb. You said you were here to rescue me, but instead of rescuing me, you put me in another cage by putting me to sleep somehow with your tricks. I won’t fall for your tricks anymore. I won’t lose to any pet, ever!"
As she said it, she lunged at a mage who had come too close for her to reach him with just a single jump.
But before she could get a hold of that mage, Eon moved. He was faster than she could reach the guy.
One second, he was standing three paces away. The next, his hand was wrapped around her throat, slamming her back against the wall. The dark elf’s eyes widened, her breath cutting off with a choked gasp. The mages behind him shouted, spells flaring to life, but Eon didn’t so much as glance at them.
"Listen very carefully," he said, his voice barely a whisper, only for her to hear. "I am no one’s pet."
The dark elf’s lips curled, her teeth bared. A glob of spit flew from her mouth, aimed straight for his face. But instead of hitting his face, it hit an invisible wall an inch from his skin.
The spit slid down the barrier, leaving a glistening trail before evaporating into the air. The dark elf’s eyes bulged. The mages behind Eon fell dead silent.
Eon leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "What do you think?," he murmured. "Do you think any pet is capable of having this kind of power and still stay as someone’s pet?!"
The dark elf’s body went rigid. Eon could feel her pulse hammering under his fingers, wild and erratic.
But then she laughed.
It was a broken, breathless sound; she laughed like a maniac. When her laughter stopped, she said to him, "Clever trick, pet. But tricks don’t make you free."
Eon’s grip tightened, just for a second. Then he released her, stepping back as if she hadn’t just tried to spit in his face.
The dark elf slumped against the wall, gasping, her hand flying to her throat. She coughed, her pale eyes watering, but she didn’t look away. She watched him, like a cornered animal sizing up a predator. The predator and prey situation turned upside down completely.
Eon looked at her from above. He knew she must not be the type to just stop at this, knowing her personality up until now. But making her choke wasn’t going to make her cooperative either.
He backed off a bit, trying to give her some space to think. But as her rebellious mode hadn’t worn off yet, she wasn’t in the mood for using her head yet. She lunged at him.
She was fast, blindingly so, but he’d already seen the way her muscles coiled, the way her weight shifted onto the balls of her feet just before she lunged, which gave away that she was going to attack now. He didn’t need to cast a spell. He just flicked his wrist.
One second, the dark elf was mid-leap, her fingers curved like talons, her teeth bared. The next, the very floor beneath her feet looked like they liquefied, earth and stone rising up in thick, serpentine ropes that lashed around her limbs, binding her tighter than any manacle could. She hit the ground with a choked cry, her body pinned spread-eagle, the earthen bonds creaking as she thrashed against them.
Eon crouched beside her, his fingers brushing the dirt near her face. "You’re strong," he said conversationally, as if they were discussing the weather. "Fast and strong. But you’re not the only predator in this mansion right now."
The dark elf’s chest heaved, her breath coming in short gasps. She glared at him, her pale eyes burning with hatred. "Let. Me. Go."
Eon tilted his head. "No, not until you stop attacking."
Her lips peeled back, eyes red with rage. "I’ll kill you."
"Maybe." He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She flinched a little, but the earthen bonds held her fast. "But not today."