Sifa’s shaking her head, grabbing my arm to pull me farther into the cavern. “We’re not leaving you.”
She’s so fucking beautiful. My heart cracks with her resolve to keep me close. I can’t give in to this, though. We won’t get away from the Dróttning this way.
“She can sense all of us, but she knows me,” I hiss in Sifa’s ear. “I don’t think she’s certain it’s me, but she won’t give up the chance to find out. She’ll follow me, not you or the others. I can get away from her. If she’s not leading the chase, you’ll be able to evade whoever she sends after you. Let me send her in another direction and then I’ll catch up to you.”
The seconds tick by slowly as Sifa watches me. Finally, her chin dips for a second before her gaze rises and holds mine. “You will find us,” she demands in a husky voice, full of emotions I can’t let myself consider yet. “This thing between us isn’t finished. And I have questions for you.”
I lift one hand to her cheek, the other grasping her waist to pull her close. “I told you already, my little rabbit. I will always find you.”
When my lips find hers, the world makes sense, Sifa at its center. But that’s all we can have. I pull away, caressing her cheek one last time. “Go,” I urge her.
She nods and turns to follow Toffer and Joralf deeper into the cave.
I spin and start to backtrack, leading the Dróttning as far away from them as I can. For a moment, I think it’s not going to work. That the Dróttning decided to follow Sifa and I’ve abandoned them to her wrath.
My chest lightens when she trails me, though. I wind through the caves with her on my heels, abandoning any hope of finding my way back to where I left Sifa and the others. Toffer will lead them to Astarot and the horses, and they’ll get away. That’s the only thing that matters.
Perhaps ten minutes after I split from Sifa and the others, I lead my pursuers into a cavern with no exit, my heart dropping into my feet when I realize it.
Fuck. Me.
It’s deep enough for me to have some time to try to fix this, but not much. They’re on my heels, and I have a minute, if that. I have no choice but to use my magic—which the Dróttning will recognize, because my power alone in this land will echo through the entire cave system. She may onlybelieveright now that it’s me she’s following. This will remove any doubt. And Tindera will be fully fucked.
BecauseIfucked this up so badly.
Reaching out, I lay my palms against the rock, searching for the best path. If this works at all, it will take every ounce of my magic. When I sense another cavern, perhaps a male’s-height away, I slow my breathing. And I push. The rock is stubborn. It’s been here for a long time. I’m more stubborn.
Too gods-damned slowly, the rock starts to move under my touch. I’m trembling, the mix of anxiety and exertion reaching into every part of me, but my hands are solid and the rock is responding. A tunnel. That’s all I need. But I have to move a shit-ton of rock to do that, pushing most of it into surrounding stone to force the density to increase, while rock along the edges can shift out and add to the surface area.
Long seconds pass while I create a path I can take, expanding its size from a pinhole to a space large enough for a mouse, then a child, and finally an adult. I’m sucking in air by now, barely able to get enough, but I think I'll be able to get through.
Just in time. The Dróttning’s soldiers are racing toward me, their leader fast on their heels. I shove into the hole I’ve opened, finding crevices and cracks to pull my body in and forward. My head is nearly through the other side when a hand wraps around my ankle, tugging me back. Grasping the edge, I try to turn—give myself a better angle to kick this bastard away—but I can’t. I can go backward or forward. That’s it.
My heart is pounding in my ears, my stomach twisting into a tight knot. If the Dróttning captures me, I’ll never be able to help Tindera escape. And I cannot let my dragon pay an even higher price than she’s already condemned to suffer because of my fucked-up mating bond.
Inhaling deeply to try to calm myself enough for another burst of magic, I let go of the edge with my right hand, placing my palm on the rock as far down my body as I can. And I shove, forcing more stone to give way. Finally, I have the space I need to spin. One more push—gasping as I dig deep to find more power—and I open the tunnel enough to kick at the bastard holding my leg.
I can’t hold back the smile as I hear the satisfying crunch of bone. He lets go and I spin again, yanking at the tunnel’s edge and barely shielding my head as I tumble to the cave floor. Scrambling to my feet, I splay my palms inside the tunnel and pull up the last dregs of my magic to fill part of the tunnel. A smirk tips my lips as the soldier with the broken nose is trapped in the rock, his skull crushing under its weight.
And then I collapse to the ground, thanking the gods for finally giving me a gods-damned break.
I’m rising to my feet, wondering how I’ll find my way out of here, when the Dróttning’s voice drifts toward me, frustration and anger in every word. “I’m done with this game, Fhord. I know you’re responsible for the elf escaping. I knew you were lying to me when you sat in my rooms, trying to convince me there’s nothing between you. You can’t hide that kind of secret from me. You’re more of a fool than I realized.
“So go. Leave these caves. But know this. Unless you bring the elf to me—alive or not, I no longer care—you may never return. You are dead to me.” She pauses a moment, a laugh gusting out of her. “And to your dragon. She’s mine now. You won’t see her again.”
Every part of me deflates as the Dróttning’s words sink in, and I feel her move away from me.
Tindera will pay the price. As I always knew she would.
I only hope her words didn’t reach Sifa. My little rabbit can’t know what her freedom has cost me. She can’t know what a risk I’ll be taking when I come back here to try to free Tindera. Because I have to try. I won’t be able to live with myself if I abandon my dragon to the Dróttning’s punishments for my sins.
I can’t move. For a minute or more, I stand there motionless, my mind skipping through my options, dismissing each. I want to race back now, try to free Tindera before I follow Sifa from the Nest. But I’ve used every bit of my magic.
It wouldn’t matter anyway. In this, the Dróttning holds all the power. Tindera can’t go until the Dróttning releases her. Nobody leaves here without our dear leader’s permission. If I know the Dróttning—and I do, at least where her wrath is concerned—Tindera’s already imprisoned.
My stomach clenches, my last meal threatening to push its way up and out. I’m helpless to protect my dragon. And I don’t know how in the fuck I’ll ever find Sifa and the others.
Toffer’s hand on my shoulder pulls me from my desperate thoughts. “Sifa summons her savior.” His voice is low and solemn. “Salvation,” he adds as he points down one of the many caverns leading from this one.
