What Heroes Hide: Marcon’s Scene in Buried Heroes, Chapter 35

Welcome to a special corner of the woods, where special content waits for those who are ready, those who are searching…

In this case, you’ve found a bonus scene that’s in the second extended edition of Buried Heroes.

Go to the first scene break in chapter thirty-five, where Iellieth and Marcon have left the Vagarveil Wood and are fleeing through the mountains.

I know that several of you received an ARC or a print before this scene came to me, and I had to make sure you got it!

I’ve added the paragraph to two that leads into the scene and then the new scene in Marcon’s POV.

***

Marcon held a blanket out to her. “Get some rest, lady.”

Iellieth nodded and laid her head on a mossy rock. The stars twinkled brightly. Sadness swelled in her chest again, and she closed her eyes against their cheery glittering.

Marcon

Iellieth slept soundly, her hands and knees curled in toward her chest. The shadow of a bruise darkened her hairline, emphasizing the stark white of her bandages.

Marcon tightened his jaw, looking over her again. He would never tire of guarding her. But he still felt unsettled that harm had befallen her while she had fought by his side.

The realization that had sent him away from her glared back through the darkness.

Dangers like the werewolves they’d faced would keep coming after her. And it would only be a matter of time before their enemies realized what the two of them had learned in Trudid and what he’d proven to himself on his foolish trek through the forest.

In more ways than one, if they harmed her, they harmed him too. He didn’t believe it worked the other way, but the one would be enough.

What would his old enemies have given to have such an easy way of eliminating him, of extinguishing the flame of a champion of Eldura? These new enemies he was still trying to understand. He could convince himself that Lucien’s interest was more focused on Iellieth than on him, though it wasn’t exactly a comforting thought.

A soft moan echoed from her throat in her sleep. Was she dreaming of the mentor she had lost? Or the vile creature that hunted her?

Marcon searched the forest around them, considering. They had not made it so far that the werewolves could not close with them. She was too exhausted to resume their travels tonight, but he could help her, at least in this one, small way.

He rose, gathered their packs, and lifted the sleeping half-elf into his arms.

She sighed, adjusting the press of her head more tightly against the hollow of his shoulder. His chest swelled as his world compressed to the woman in his arms. Checking their surroundings once more, Marcon carried her away into the trees.

He murmured a prayer of Ignis over her while she slept, one meant to warm and heal, a hearth song. Marcon waded along a creek before taking them deeper into the mountain forests on the other side. Even in their transformed state, the werewolves would struggle to track them through the water.

Marcon glanced down at Iellieth, the peacefulness of her expression beneath the light of the moons. She trusted him.

With a flare of heat that charged through his entire being, he remembered the press of her lips against his cheek in the forest with the satyr.

How many times had he insisted to himself that she had simply been trying to prove a point in their larger ruse? The memory tormented and thrilled. He would fight a dozen more werewolves to feel her lips against his skin again.

Marcon settled for the victory that was nearer at hand, the way she’d relaxed in his arms. Even that was more than he had any right to ask of her. He leaned down and inhaled the floral scent of her hair, the musk of her perfume swirling through his senses, blurring his thoughts. And as her nearness drowned out all else, clarity dawned around him. With it came a new, guiding vow.

Let enemies old and new come, Marcon murmured in the tongue of fire, carving out an oath that stirred the sleeping coals of his past promise back to life. It didn’t matter if Ignis could hear him or not, though he suspected some remnant of the titan lingered near at hand.

He wouldn’t let anything happen to Iellieth. And together, they would find a way forward where she was free of this curse that bound her to his side. On that day, when she could choose to remain with him, he hoped to have proven himself to her. He would show her that he could be the sort of companion she would want to journey with. He could settle for that, just her choosing him, wanting to stay.

Marcon pressed a kiss against her hairline, sealing his silent vow to the woman he held. The one who held him, whether she knew it or not.

Whatever may come, I am yours.

* * *

Iellieth

She had awoken once in the night as Marcon moved them across the creek to a sheltered cove upstream.

***

Ahhhh! I love him!

Stay tuned for more bonuses along these lines!

-Beth