haebin | The Mistress of the Shadowland, Second Book, The next Chapter

Please enjoy the next chapter! And like always, thank you so so much for reading!! ♥

Listening to his own breathing.
Feeling his chest slowly rise and fall as he meditated.
Even in his current state, he could hear the waves breaking on the cliffs below the castle.
Trálír lay in deep meditation, his eyes closed, and heard thunder in the distance. Rain pattered against the glass of his windows in a steady rhythm, and he felt as if he could almost taste raindrops on his lips, so moist did the air in his chamber feel.
He had intended to rest and recharge during this long period of contemplation, but it seemed as if his mind would not settle.
During the short meditation, which lasted only half the night, he always performed a series of mental exercises that refreshed his body and mind. During this phase, his consciousness was aware of what was happening around him and all his senses were sharpened. However, this did not apply to the kind of contemplation he was supposed to be engaged in now.
Obviously, this was not the long meditation he had intended to engage in after sharing supper with his father and his men. So what had happened?
Trálír struggled to open his eyes, which felt as if they were moving in slow motion due to the heaviness he felt. All he could see was impenetrable darkness even after he used his dark vision and he made sure he was alone, his skin tingled with a call for caution. His chamber, which had always been a place of retreat and safety for him, was unrecognizable, and this felt extremely threatening to him.
Something was in the air, something he couldn't name, but his gut feeling gave him a clear warning.

Trálír tried to sit up by pressing his hands into the soft mattress, but he couldn't manage to raise himself. The ruler's son felt exhausted and tired, unrested, and so he gave in with a weak sigh on his lips and remained lying on the bed.
Nevertheless, there was something inside him that wanted to fathom this dark heaviness he felt, this almost threatening feeling that hung over him like a sword. Something felt wrong.
He tried to turn his head to the left toward the windows and the balcony door and, to his surprise, realized that it was open. Trálír also remembered that he had closed it despite the approaching night and the lingering warmth of the day. The heavy brocade curtains of dark green moved as if by magic, as he could neither feel nor hear a breath of wind. In addition, despite the thick stones of the castle wall that kept his chamber cool in summer, there was an almost unbearable humidity in the room.
“By the nine hells, what is happening?” Trálír whispered in confusion as he discovered the brightly lit full moon in the sky, its silvery light falling into his chamber despite the rain and thunder he could clearly hear. He knew that a cloudless sky and rain falling at the same time was impossible.
Unless magic was involved.

Trálír tried once more to sit up, but the impenetrable darkness in his chamber, combined with the now almost unbearable heat, made it impossible for him to move. Every breath felt heavy and exhausting, and it seemed as if an unknown force was pressing his body deep into his sheets.
As he lay helplessly on the bed, he glanced repeatedly at the balcony door, and with every breath he took, the pale, wan moonlight seemed to illuminate another step in his chamber.
It's as if something is walking into my chamber, invisible, unseen, but with every step it takes, my chamber is revealed more and more, thought Trálír, trying to control his rapidly beating heart. He had to stay awake, he had to remember every little change he noticed, because everything around him felt unfamiliar, almost alien.
It was as if this wasn't really his chamber, his refuge, the place where he could feel comfortable and safe in this castle, regardless of the cruel decisions his father made or how sacrilegious Tearlách behaved.

And suddenly Trálír heard a whisper.
It sounded soft, far away from him and yet so close, as if someone were whispering directly into his ear, unknown words from a foreign language. He felt something moving, someone moving, and the mattress yielding under their weight. With every beat of the elf's heart, it seemed to come closer.
The urge to sit up was overwhelming in Trálír, because he did not want to give in to the helplessness when he suddenly felt an index finger on his lips.
Lavender and a hint of honey. And in just half a heartbeat, he knew who it was.
“Anwyn?”
“Ssshhh,” she whispered, and although he couldn't see the smile on her lips because her body was hidden by the darkness, he could still hear it in her answer. He saw it clearly in his mind's eye.
“What... what in the hells are you doing here?”
Trálír felt Anwyn shift her weight, moving closer to him, leaning forward slightly. The silvery light of the moon seemed to follow her every movement, and now he realized that she was sitting sideways on his bed, an inscrutable smile on her lips. Her wild curls fell forward over her shoulders, gently brushing his left forearm. Confused, Trálír stared at her, seeing the loving expression in her eyes.
Her eyes, which seemed as silvery as the moon above them.
“I missed you,” she replied in a soft voice to his question, gently stroking his full lower lip with the tip of her index finger. Trálír frowned and tried to sit up, but Anwyn placed her hand on his chest and shook her head with a mysterious smile. Following an inner impulse, he narrowed his eyes and noticed that she was wearing a nightgown made of white gauze. The edge of the gown was extensively embroidered, as were the neckline and the hem, which reached just below her pubic area.
Everything that was not embroidered revealed her naked body, and when she approached him again, the deep neckline opened as if by magic, exposing her bare breasts and her nipples, hard with arousal.

Trálír swallowed when he saw this, then cleared his throat and brought his hands to her neckline, which he gathered together and held closed between his fingers. Finally, he looked at her irritably.
“What are you doing here, Anwyn?” he asked in a dismayed voice, but she only gave him a loving smile in response. Trálír glanced quickly at the entrance to his chamber, for he feared that every second they spent together in this room gave his father, his men, or his brother the opportunity to burst through the door, see her, and snatch Anwyn away from him. He knew that this moment would decide everything, for he would fight with his life to ensure that no one could approach her. And yet he was aware of his father's cold-heartedness and his brother's atrocity, so that his own death seemed quite possible to him. In that case, Anwyn would be lost forever.
Trálír closed his eyes and shook his head to dispel the images of her, humiliated, tortured, and raped, imprisoned in a dungeon, from his mind's eye.
“Anwyn?” Trálír's voice sounded thin.

“I took the path you explained to me,” she replied, her index finger gently sliding over the silvery skin of his cheek, illuminated by the moonlight, to his earlobe, and slowly tracing the edge of his ear. Trálír closed his eyes again, unconsciously moistening his lips and taking a deep breath. He swallowed once more.
I... I have to stay in control, he thought, feeling this tender touch send an uncontrollable fire coursing through his entire body.
An elf's ear was its most erogenous zone, and Trálír quickly placed his hand on Anwyn's finger to prevent her from continuing her movement. He cleared his throat.
“What are you saying? That I asked you to come here to the castle?”
Anwyn nodded, her gaze slightly uncertain.
“But yes,” she replied quietly and looked at him.
“That's crazy. And it's dangerous. I would never suggest such a thing to you,” he whispered, shaking his head slightly in annoyance. “What if someone saw you, Anwyn? Do you realize that my father will have you thrown into the dungeon if he finds out that you set foot in this castle? And that certainly won't be the only thing he does. He's capable of far worse things.”
Anwyn bit her lower lip, her gaze guilty as she heard Trálír's dark words.
“But that won't happen, my love. I used a scroll, just as you told me to.”
“A scroll? I told you to use a scroll? And that's supposed to protect you from the danger you're obviously in, here in my chamber, in this castle?” Trálír asked, stunned, moving away from Anwyn a little. “I don't understand how you can say such a thing.”
He looked at her in horror.

"But you explained to me how to use it. And you told me the best way to get into the castle unseen. Do you remember the hole in the wall? It's hidden behind a thick hedge, and you always used it when you wanted to skip the monks' lessons to go hunting in the forest," she replied, running the fingers of her right hand through his long hair while carefully supporting herself with the other on his bare chest. “No one saw me, don't worry. I just scurried through the dark corners of the courtyard, unseen by the few who had to do their duty. The night also protected me.”
“The courtyard is brightly lit, Anwyn!” Trálír said, slightly annoyed, his lips pressed together.
“The night is my friend. It always has been,” whispered Anwyn, tilting her head slightly to one side, her smile mysterious. Her gaze was fixed on his bare chest and the thin sheet that did little to conceal the fact that Trálír's manhood was half-erect.

He took another deep breath, trying hard to maintain control over the growing passion in his body. The situation they were in was pure madness, and he wondered why he had to have this conversation with her. What had happened to Anwyn that she had approved of this plan? And had he really said those words to her? He couldn't remember ever mentioning anything like that.
Of course, he had imagined many a night what it would be like if Anwyn were to sneak into the castle, into his chambers... how she would press her lips to his, full of desire, and give herself to him passionately. But this had only been a daydream. He would never have persuaded her to such a crazy idea.
It was pure madness to wander half-naked to Blackwater Castle in the middle of the night and then sneak past the soldiers on night duty with a spell or a scroll. And how did she even know which room was his?
“Enough, Anwyn. Enough of the words you have spoken,” Trálír blurted out, his voice a mixture of concern and anger. He sat up and grabbed her two hands, which were still on his chest. “You have to go, it’s too dangerous for you here.”
Gods, she was so close to him, and his skin seemed to glow under the touch of her fingertips. The neckline of her robe gaped open once more, giving Trálír a direct view of her breasts. A drop of sweat slid promisingly between her breasts down to her navel, finding its way to her pubic area.
“Please, Love, don't think too much. I know this was all a crazy idea, but it worked, I was able to pull it off. And now I'm here with you, in your chamber... and so close to you,” whispered Anwyn, leaning toward him so that their faces were only a hand's breadth apart.

“Anwyn, this is not only pure madness, but also like running unarmed, seriously wounded, and blind into a line of enemy soldiers. My father is in that castle, Tearlách...” He broke off and looked at her almost imploringly, even though his voice was filled with reprimand.
“Are you afraid for me?” asked Anwyn, looking at him with her large, fawn-brown eyes. Trálír stared at her in disbelief.
“Of course I'm afraid for you,” he blurted out, grabbing her shoulders and gently pushing her away. “This discussion is over. Get up and go to the closet in the corner, take a tunic and pants, but I'm afraid I can't provide boots. I'll take you home. And I certainly won't let you sneak through the forest half-naked at night.”