“You need him?” she asks, the words dripping from her mouth like poison trickled from a spoon. “What could you possibly need from him?” She twists her head, and if eyes could kill, I’d be a dead elf.
The hate in her gaze sends a shiver down my spine. It won’t be long before she flips that coin, giving in to the desire her loathing will become. The wait might kill me but it will be the most delightful torture.
“You know what?” she says before Svend can open his lips, eyes sharp as glass still fixed on me. “Never mind. I don’t need to hear anything you could say right now. Go to Fhord. Tell him what you’ve done. Accept his punishment without complaint.”
“But,” Svend sputters, rising to take a step toward her as his hands lift, palms raised to the sky above us.
Fuck, he’s weak. My upper lip curls as I watch him supplicate to her. I’ll punish him again soon for that.
“But nothing,” Finaan interrupts. “Go. Now.”
“You will return to me when others sleep,” I command before he can leave, my message to him clear. He’ll use his magic if he must, but he will come back.
“He won’t,” she snaps as she turns to glare at me and then throws that frosty gaze back at the elf. “Don’t come back here again,” she adds, her voice growing gentler. “I don’t want to lock you up in one of these cells, but I will.”
Svend doesn’t move for a few seconds, so I growl, low from my chest, anger at her soft words for him rumbling through me. He startles like a deer about to begin the final race of his life and runs to the stairs, then up and out.
When his footsteps fade, Finaan turns back to me. Oooh, she’s pissed. This emotion is as tasty as any other and I sup it up. For a moment, I consider testing my magic on her, pulling her toward me. I’d slay a dozen men and lay them at her feet if it meant I could touch that skin as I did in Helheim. But I already can tell that using my power on my skjaldmær would drive her away. She must choose to be mine before we return home. I’ll have no hope of convincing Hel to let me keep my mate if she refuses to submit to our bond.
It’s why she can never learn of my obsession with her in that dark place. She’d never forgive me, and who could blame her? I’m as deplorable as they come.
“I don’t know what that was about, but it won’t happen again. Whatever fucked-up games you played there have no place in this world. The next time, we’ll bind your handsbehind your back, leave you to piss and shit on yourself until you convince us we can trust you.”
A smirk splits my lips. “Can’t drag your thoughts away from my cock or my ass, can you?” I murmur. “They’re yours, Finaan. Every piece of me is yours. Use me. Let me use you.”
She’s quiet for a long time, and an irrational part of me wonders if she’s considering it. Finally, though, she scoffs, her upper lip curling as she wrinkles her nose and narrows her eyes. “I don’t know if you’re telling me the truth,” she says as she casts her gaze down. “But if you really are my mate,” she adds, lifting her eyes to let me see her anger, “then the fates truly fucked me, pairing me with the most despicable elf I’ve ever known.”
My cock jerks as she gives me the fierceness I crave.
“Bond or not, I’ll never be yours,” she proclaims, as if she’s willing it to be true. “You’ll never touch me. You’ll never kiss me. And you sure as fuck won’t ever use me.”
My skjaldmær takes a single step in my direction, her gaze holding mine as if she’s gripping an enemy before severing his heart with her sword. “They’re going to take you back to the mainland. You’re getting our pity once. If you chase me down again, we’ll kill you.” One more step, her hands lifting to rest on her hips, thrusting out her tits for my viewing pleasure as her back straightens. “That would be my preference. Killing you. But Z, that sentimental beast, wants to protect you. Nobody knows why. So he and Mik will carry you away. That’s your only chance at life. Return to Helheim. And don’t ever come back to this world.”
I rise to my full height, looking down at her. She’s a tall female, but I’m a head bigger, and she lifts her chin to hold my gaze. After a moment, I rouse Wrath, letting him join me in claiming our female. “Nothing will keep us from you,” I declare, my voice bouncing off the rock that surrounds us. “Send us away. Threaten us. Kill us. It won’t matter. Helheim won’t contain this body if you don’t join us in its dark embrace. The earth will open up and spit us out before it will tolerate our separation from you.”
Stepping forward, I wrap my hands around the bars that stand between us. Wrath thrashes inside me, his cravings demanding satisfaction, but I call on the strength I’ve harnessed over the centuries to keep him bound. “You’ll fight it,” I rumble. “You’ll curse the gods and the fates. You’ll demand my death. But you will submit to me. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”
“You’re gods-damned delusional,” Finaan snarls.
She holds her ground, my warrior mate, and I thank the gods that she’ll soon be cursing. She’s strong and wouldn’t have led the elves in Helheim if she weren’t. But she’s so much fiercer than I ever realized. The mate I saw only from a distance or as she slept was cold, satisfying my needs as I imagined a fire I never actually felt. My skjaldmær, though, burns with a flame more vibrant and intense than I ever could have anticipated.
“A horrific twist of fate might have made us mates,” she continues, “but I’ve never let some ridiculous idea of destiny drive my decisions. I sure as fuck won’t start now. I’ll never be yours. Go away. Don’t come back.”
With that, she spins and struts out—that perfect ass of hers swaying in her rage—and I sit down to wait. Svend will return to me soon, and we need to leave tonight. My mistress bid me to return with all of the elves, but I have no idea where that bastard and his dragon will drop me or how many days or weeks it will take to return to Finaan. I can’t risk that. Hel’s patience only extends so far. She’ll be grateful, though, when I return with the elves’ leader and explain what I have to offer in addition to the remaining elves. She’ll grant me a boon, and I’ll claim Finaan.
I let the anticipation sit inside me as I bide my time. Svend doesn’t disappoint. The moon is high in the sky, casting its light through the small window close to the ceiling, when I hear his steps. They’re slower than they should be—rising my ire when he least wants to do something so foolish—but I’ll forgive him when he frees me. And reluctant as he may be right now to do that, Svend’s an obedient elf.
“You summoned me, my liege?” he croaks when his feet hit the floor.
“You made me wait, Svend.”
His gaze darts toward the whip before returning to me. “They held me in my room,” he mumbles, his shoulders curling toward me as his ribs sink in. “It took strong magic to put them all to sleep. I came as soon as I could.”
“I don’t care about your excuses,” I bark. My voice is cold—the tone I use in Helheim when he’s angered me—and he responds as I’d hoped. His chin drops to his chest, whichquivers as if pierced by an arrow. He sucks in a deep breath, and then another, before taking two steps toward the weapons.
“Not those,” I tell him. “Not yet. We leave this place tonight. I’ll punish you when we reach home.”
The smile he gives me when his head flings up tells me all I need to know. “We’re going to Helheim?” he stammers, stepping even closer. “Tonight?”
