Day Eleven-
Razik

“We have dinner in less than an hour, mai dragocen,” Razik said, finding Eliza in the kitchen when he stepped into the main space of the cave. 

 

 

She only hummed a response as he crossed the room in a few long strides. Her hair was pulled back and tied at her nape, not even in her usual braid. She only wore her fitted black pants with a thin white undershirt. No boots. And only one weapon strapped to the thigh.

 

 

His eyes narrowed as he continued to watch her. “Are you planning to have a biscuit with your jam?” he asked when she absent-mindedly spread more another spoonful of jam onto the already layered biscuit.

 

 

Her grey eyes snapped to him in a glare before she set the spoon aside, her lips pursing when she quickly looked away from him again. Just as fast, she smoothed her features into impassivity.

 

 

As if he didn’t know when something was wrong.

 

 

“Eliza,” he said, waiting for her to answer.

 

 

“I think just you should go tonight, Raz,” she sighed before taking a bite of her smothered biscuit.

 

 

He scanned her head-to-toe, trying to decipher if she wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t her cycle. She’d just had that last month, and Fae only have their cycles seasonally. More than that, her cycles involved him holding her hair back while she vomited and his hand pressed to her lower abdomen to keep heat there while she curled into him. It was one of the rare times she didn’t fight him and let him take care of her.

 

 

“Did something happen today?” he finally asked. “We can reschedule with them.”

 

 

She shook her head. “Seriously. Go, Razik. I know you need the time with your family.”

 

 

He was around the counter in the next breath, grabbing her hips and lifting her to sit atop it. He stepped between her legs, and despite the irritated sound that rumbled from her, her legs wrapped around his waist, subtly pulling him closer.

 

 

He pressed the tip of his finger beneath her chin, guiding her eyes to his. “Eliza.”

 

 

Her name. That was all he said because neither of them cared for dramatics.

 

 

She’d set her biscuit aside and leaned back on her hands as she sighed again. “I think your time with them is more meaningful when I am not with you.”

 

 

He blinked because he wasn’t sure how to respond to that. So instead, all he said was, “Explain.”

 

 

“I just…don’t think Kailia cares for me,” she said, her eyes darting away from him again.

 

 

And he couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped him.

 

 

It had her gaze flying back to his, flames flickering as her irritation sparked. “Don’t laugh at me, Razik.”

 

 

He leaned forward, taking her face in his hands. “Mai dragocen, Lia doesn’t care for anyone.”

 

 

“That’s not true,” she scoffed. “She adores you. And Cethin, of course.”

 

 

“We have a history,” he replied. “But you know she tried to kill Cethin more times than I can count.”

 

 

“I simply feel as if I am intruding sometimes.”

 

 

“And you are just now saying this. After a few years. Why now?” he pressed gently, pulling the band tying her hair back and draping the strands over her shoulder. “Do they make you uncomfortable?”

 

 

“No,” she said quickly. “They’ve always been more than welcoming, but sometimes, I just feel…on the outside. If that makes sense.”

 

 

He nodded. “It does. I feel the same sometimes with your family. I think it is simply part of learning to blend two lives together.”

 

 

“I know,” she said, learning into his touch as he toyed with her hair. “As long as you are sure it is not me.”

 

 

He leaned in again, brushing his lips along her brow. “I swear to the Fates it most certainly is not you. Her past is dark. You know this. She does not trust easily. Or at all, really. Even all these decades later, the trust with me and Cethin is fragile. The things she has experienced and how she was raised…” He swallowed thickly, knowing all the details. “It is her story to tell some day, but know it is not you, Eliza.”

 

 

He knew she understood that. Just as she knew he would never tell another soul of her own story and how that Mark came to be atop her heart, even if he was spending far more time than she realized trying to free her from it. Not because he wanted a child, but because he hated the idea of anyone or anything taking a choice from her. A choice that should be solely hers.

 

 

“If you truly do not wish to go this evening, I will understand,” he added. “But know that while they are my family, you are my most treasured, and you will always come first.”

 

 

She was the one push up and meet his lips this time, lingering long enough it made him start to question if he wanted to skip dinner with Cethin and Lia tonight. But she pulled back, dropping another small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Sorry I am…”

 

 

“Difficult?” he supplied.

 

 

Then she was shoving at his chest in annoyance while another laugh fell from his lips.

 

 

“Stop that,” she snapped, hopping off the counter, presumably to go get ready.

 

 

“Stop what?” he taunted, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter, watching her go.

 

 

“You so rarely smile let alone laugh; it’s disarming when you do,” she grumbled before she disappeared into the room that housed their clothing.

 

 

And Razik smiled to himself. She was right, but he did both of things a lot more since she’d come along.

 

©️Melissa K. Roehrich 2025