Not Magic Enough and Setting Boundaries Boxed Set (The Coming Storm) Read Free Page A

like shadows in the flickering light of the torch.
    His features were perfect, strong - his smooth skin was reddened a little with the cold beneath the hood of his cloak, his long straight hair streamed loose in the wind.
    It was as if she was held spellbound and yet she knew she wasn’t. Elven magic didn’t work that way.
    Rarely did her folk see Elves here in the outlands and never one alone given the danger from her own kind - although she certainly knew of that aloof and beautiful race. Everyone did - as they knew of the Dwarves who dwelled deep in the earth in their Caverns.
    What was he doing out in this storm so far from an Enclave ? There was none close that she knew of and the storm would slow even his Elven-bred horse, standing patiently nearby. She hadn’t even heard its approach.
    Empathic as he was, beneath the thick scarf covering her bright hair, Dorovan could see a woman of warmth and of spirit, of infinite tenderness, her blue eyes filled with both grief at what she was about to do, the determination and duty that was required to do it and wonder to see him there beside her. His kind and hers rarely interacted.
    “Do not,” he said, gently. “I can hold him still, if you can but unbuckle the harness.”
    Dorovan often worked with the horses in Talaena Enclave and the horses of men were much less headstrong than those, so keeping the animal still was only a matter of empathy with it - of sinking his awareness into that of the animal trembling beneath his hands.
    It was on Delae for a moment to ask if he was certain, but he was Elf - of course he was. If he said it, he was. There was that about Elves that they didn’t lie - it going so against their Honor.
    Then he laid his strong, long-fingered hands on the horse, one on the horse’s strong neck, the other covering its eye, murmuring soft words as he did and it stilled completely.
    “Dan, Pell, Tad, help me,” she said, softly, not wanting to disturb the Elf’s concentration.
    Both seemed as dumbstruck by the presence of the Elf as she’d been - staring at him in amazement.
    “Dan, Pell,” she called, more sharply, before tugging her gloves from her nearly frozen fingers to work the straps free of the buckles. “Tad.”
     That broke their suspension and they rushed to help her, Tad goggling owlishly at the Elf.
    Still it took all of Dan and Tad’s muscle to lift and Delae’s and Pell’s efforts to get the harness unfastened from beneath the horse. Then it was free and she turned to the Elf.
    As lightly as a feather, the woman touched Dorovan on the shoulder, letting him know he could release his control of the horse.
    It surprised him she would know his people didn’t like to be touched by anyone other than other Elves, but even that brief touch told him much about her - including the knowledge that she possessed an empathy he’d thought uncommon among the people of men. Still, he couldn’t help but be grateful for it and for her consideration.
    He looked up into her blue eyes and nodded, stepping back carefully, drawing her back with him with a touch to her shoulder as the horse thrashed to its feet.
    Quickly he reached out to grasp the frightened animal by its halter.
    “Pell,” Delae called. “Come help us get the horse harnessed. Have one of the women hold it.”
    The other man nodded while Dan took the reins of the other horses.
    Delae looked at the Elf hesitantly. “I can’t ask you for more than you’ve done…”
    With a grave nod, Dorovan said, “But I can offer it.”
    The gratitude in her eyes was thanks enough.
    “I’m Delae,” she offered.
    “Dorovan,” he said.
    She smiled, her blue eyes warming, turning her beautiful.
    Borrowing the traces from wagon, he set them on his own Charis, who shook himself at the feel of the leather on him before settling. The Elven-bred stallion knew his duty here; it didn’t need to be said. Dorovan attached the traces to the sturdiest rails on the side of the wagon. Before they