Her shoulders droop for a moment, but then she pushes them back, stubborn creature that she is. “I don’t believe you,” she lies.
“I don’t care,” I lie back.
Of course, I fucking care. She managed to convincemydragon to carry awaymyweasel, and I don’t think they’re coming back. My skjaldmær is the only way out of this mess, and I refuse to die before I fuck Finaan. I need to hear her scream my name when she comes on my cock.
I glance down, wondering how much more time I have. My nipples have disappeared, along with most of my chest. I’m being crushed, my ribs collapsing in so far, I’m certain they’ll break soon. Every time I breathe, the pressure increases, little knives lashing out to spear my nerves and muscles. My bones are trapped in place, bound forever in the pebbles that will best us if Finaan doesn’t act. Still, they’re trembling like a leaf in the wind, unleashing even more blades to drive their tips into me with every shake.
I’ve finally discovered a pain I can’t tolerate. Even my cock agrees, collapsing despite the fire in our mate’s eyes. Combine that with Wrath’s unholy fear of being smothered in this pit, and I am getting very, very angry.
By the gods, I’ll enjoy punishing her for this.
She’s quiet for a few seconds, her hands lifting to her hips as her lips purse. She stands like that often. At first, I thought she hoped to tempt me with those luscious tits. That’s not it, much as I’d like it to be. No, it’s a way of claiming power. She makes herself large, steadies her will as she straightens her back.
It’s going to take me decades to break her when we get back to Helheim, and I’m going to enjoy every single day.
“Take me to my dragon without a promise to suck your dick,” she proposes, her tone flat. “I’ll free you if you agree to do that.”
“I won’t bargain that away,” I assure her, not a hint of uncertainty in my voice. I might give her something else. Not that. “You will drop to your knees and beg to suck my cock,” I remind her, “and I’ll fuck you if you refuse. Or I won’t take you to your dragon.”
More silence, those scrumptious lips still pouting at me.
“Start talking to Ruxi,” she proposes, nodding to herself. “We have to communicate with them. You need to help us.”
“I don’t want that creature in my head,” I snarl. “We won’t allow it.”
“Is Wrath awake?” she asks, as if she might convince my beast to allow this.
“Would he sleep while you make such foolish demands of us?”
“Ask him, or let me,” she insists, her gaze dropping for a moment to remind me how far down I’ve sunk. “That’s the price. If I were you, I’d accept before it’s too late.”
“I won’t have them in my head. Get. Me. Out,” I grunt. Fuck me if it isn’t getting hard to talk. This bitch better get her shit together, or I really might die in this fucking hole. My beast will haunt me in Helheim if I allow that to happen.
“Why can’t Wrath do it?” she asks, cocking her head to the side like she has all the time in the gods-damned world. “Can’t you shift and force your way free?”
“Wrath is … unwilling … to emerge while we’re trapped here,” I force out, every word a breath I can’t afford to lose. My lungs collapse more with each exhale, the air I’m taking in much less than I need to survive.
“Is he afraid?” She cocks her head to the other side, suddenly very interested in Wrath’s phobia.
Holy. Fuck. Does she not know we’re dying here?
“Get me out, Finaan,” I croak. “This isn’t funny.”
“I’ve told you my terms,” she responds with a shrug. “I wouldn’t be able to free you anyway. You need Ruxi. Ask them nicely—tell them you’ll speak with them in the future—and they’ll probably come.” She looks up, the corners of her lips rising in a smirk I want to twist off that arrogant face. Preferably with a gag and maybe a blindfold. “Or maybe they’re as ready to be done with you as I am,” my stubborn mate adds after a moment. “You’ll never know until you ask.
She looks at me again, letting that smug grin split her cheeks, and she waits.
I sink deeper, the rocks reaching my throat, forcing me to extend my arms as high above my head as I can. “Wrath won’t allow it,” I choke out. “Bargain for something else.”
“Have you checked with him?” Her voice is innocent, as if she’s a naïve damsel, ignorant of the price she’s demanding. She knows him, though. She must realize he’d sooner die than speak with the turnip beast.
Asssssk them, he warbles inside of me, his voice softer, meeker, than I’ve ever heard it.
You want me to seek the turnip beast’s help, to speak with them?
We will not die here. Asssssk them.
Fuck me. They’ve twisted me into a corner and it pisses me off even more than the gods who decided to lead me to this trap. But I don’t want to die here, either.
