“If you help me.”
“What must I do?” he demands, his fingers twitching as his gaze bounces around the room. “Keys,” he says after a moment. “I saw keys in the room above us.”
“Then why are you still here?”
He nods once and spins, running up the steps. A few seconds later, he jingles down again, announcing our plans to anyone nearby. But thank Hel, nobody follows. Less than a minute later, the door’s open and I’m free to go.
“Lead me to Finaan,” I tell him as I wave my arm toward the stairs. I could follow my bond to her, but I need this elf’s cooperation, and this will test his loyalty.
“Finaan,” he stammers, his feet planted firmly in place. “Why would we go to her?” His nervousness has turned into fear now, eyes wide and a pulse beating in his neck.
“She’ll return with us,” I explain, as if to a child. But he still doesn’t move, so I clap my hands and gesture again to the steps we should be taking right now. I’ll be Hel-damned if I let him get us caught because he doesn’t want company on our journey.
“Finaan won’t want to go,” he objects, his voice cracking. “We must go alone.”
He’s concerned for her, I realize. My disobedient elf doesn’t want to take her away from her new friends. If I had a heart, it might beat more quickly at his regard. But I don’t, and it doesn’t.
“She’ll travel to Helheim with us,” I snarl, “or we don’t go. You’ll lead me to her, and then you’ll put her to sleep. If you refuse, I’ll trap you in this cage and find her myself. You’ll never see me again. If you take me to her and she wakes, I’ll bind you and leave you behind.”
He quivers again, his chin trembling as his gaze bounces between me and the stairs. Finally, his soft eyes turn toward me. “Will she be safe?” he whispers.
“I don’t answer to you,” I spit out, the fire in my gut turning into an inferno. “Walk up those stairs or into the cage. Those are your choices.”
“Please don’t hurt her,” he murmurs, his hands clenching even as his shoulders droop even further. Still, he does as I command, twisting and trudging up the stairs.
Leading me to my mate.
Chapter eight
Finaan
You're Delusional
“WhymustIwakeher?”
Svend’s whiny voice pulls me from the deepest sleep I’ve had since we escaped Helheim. My entire body is relaxed and sated, as if I’ve found a home I never knew existed.
“Because she must be conscious as we travel,” Wregen snarls. “She needs to breathe deeply before Jörmungandr carries us under.”
“She’s an elf,” Svend responds in that same annoying tone. “She can’t drown.”
“I won’t have her suffer,” the bastard barks, a tone I recognize entering his words. Wraiths in Helheim fall to the ground trembling when he’s in that kind of mood.
I glance up, my mind scrambling to understand where I am. Why I’m not in my bed.
And I look straight into the dark eyes of the demon who claims to be my mate.
My heart kicks into high gear as I wake fully and search my memory for something—anything—to explain what’s happening. We’re outside, the ocean rumbling next to us. It’s night, and the moon and stars are bright enoughto reveal the water a dragon’s-length away, cliffs behind us. Svend stands between me and the water, his gaze downcast and shoulders slumped.
Treacherous bastard. I’ve never been more certain of anything than I am of his betrayal. I should have thrown him in a cage immediately. I knew not to trust him, but I thought I could rely on the guards Fhord and Sifa posted. They were supposed to watch these males, stop Svend from going to Wregen. I should have known better. Everyone underestimates the strength of Svend’s talent. They’re probably as deeply asleep as I was when Wregen stole me from my room.
Squirming, I try to twist away, but he’s holding me in an iron grip. He squeezes even tighter, his solemn gaze never straying from mine. “Not yet, my skjaldmær,” he rumbles under his breath. “When Jörmungandr has us, I’ll release my hold.”
And for some ridiculous reason, I laugh. Nothing about this situation is funny, but his ludicrous words draw a cackle from my gut. “What are you talking about, Wregen?”
“We travel toward Helheim tonight,” he tells me, one eyebrow quirking as a corner of his lips lifts. “You’ve been gone from our home too long. We’ll fix that now.”
“The fuck we will,” I snarl, spinning my body. He’s ready for that, but I knew he would be. He’s not ready for the butt of my palm punching up into his nose—shoving that bone up where it’s not supposed to be—or the jerk of my hips that follows. I wrench myself free of his grip, pushing away from him. And then I laugh again, this one for good reason.
