Come free us, I yell at the creature soaring over our head.
That’s not how you ask for a favor, they respond.
I like a fiery mate. I’ll be damned, though, if I’m going to tolerate a cheeky dragon.
Do you want to see your draikana again?I demand. Thank fuck we can speak without our voices, because I’ll never use mine again if they don’t get me out of here soon.
You don’t stand between my draikana and me, they claim.Ask me nicely.
The ground has reached my chin, pushing my head up and back as I fight to keep my mouth and nose above ground. My stomach is churning, as much from this fucking dragon as the rocks pressing in on me.
Gods, do I hate giving in to them. But give in, I do.
Please come get me, I bite out, letting my anger infuse every word, each syllable.
Since you asked so nicely, they respond with a purr, swooping down to offer their claws to me. I grasp on, a shiver rolling through me as I feel my dragon for the first time—other than their fight with Wrath all those centuries ago—relishing thesoftness of their claws. They’re as hard as rocks, but covered in a fur of some kind.
Why the fuck I care, I cannot tell you.
I grip their talons with every bit of strength I can muster and hold on as they begin to tug.
Fuuuuuuuck me. I think they’re trying to kill me after all. My body is stretching the way no body ever should. Torture devices from my youth come to mind, and I wonder if I’m going to rip in half the way those poor sots always did when the wheels pulled their hands and feet too far apart. I thought the pain was unbearable before. This, though, puts it to shame. Every smidgen of skin, all of my bones, the tissues and muscles that connect them, are burning alive. Even the pit doesn’t compare.
For a moment, I consider letting go. What do I have to live for, anyway? A female who hates me? A beast who abhors everyone except the mate we’ll never claim? A dragon who my beast soon will kill anyway?
An existence I’ve despised since the first time my cock rose, my beast erupting with the manhood I wished had never come?
But then my body starts to give, the rocks around me shifting as that turnip creature heaves me out. An image of Finaan naked slithers into my mind. She’s laid out for my pleasure, her gentle snores trembling along with her flesh as I wring another orgasm from her. She’s so fucking responsive in her sleep. Just like she was in the water, when one caress of her cunt claimed her. She gave herself to me faster than the wraiths drop to theirknees when I pass. Fuck, did I love the feel of her coming on my fingers, moans slipping out to echo around us.
I can’t die before my skjaldmær willingly takes my cock.
So I hold on to the claws, grit my teeth, and let the beast drag me out, inch by agonizing inch.
It lasts a long gods-damned time, and my fury at Finaan grows with every bit of freedom. When my cock finally emerges from the stone tomb this cavern had prepared for me—crumpled in on itself, as if it’ll be a flabby blob forever—I turn toward her and let her see my rage.
The bitch smirks, her hands rising to rest on her hips as the dragon pulls the rest of me out. They set me on the ground and throw themself back into the air, while I collapse as if my legs are made of the pebbles I barely escaped.
“Give it a rest, Wregen,” she mutters. “You’re free, and you’ll heal.”
“I should not have sunk so deep,” I snarl, every word punching a hole in my chest as I force it out. “Your delay caused this.”
“I thought you liked pain,” she responds with a shrug. “You sure like to give it,” she adds with a glance up at Svend, still gallivanting about on the dragon, as if he belongs there.
“Get the fuck down here,” I bellow, before doubling over with coughs that blast their way from my chest, up my raw throat, and out.
Unholy Helheim, that hurts. I don’t ever want to do that shit again. And it wasn’t even worth the effort. Those useless bastards ignore me. The dragon even starts spiraling in the sky,the weasel and rat laughing the whole time. I scowl, planning my punishment, but too weak to do shit about it.
“Let’s go,” Finaan says, picking her way around the gravelly pit toward the other side. “We’ve been in this cavern too long,” she adds as she turns her head to throw one more smirk at me.
I’d chase her down and beat that ass black and blue if I thought I could run more than a few steps. I should be able to walk—Hel willing—but it’ll be a long time before I can muster the strength for anything more. Looking up, I wonder how severely Wrath would punish me if we rode the fucking dragon long enough to let our body heal. But I can’t bring myself to ask them. They’d turn me down anyway.
Sighing, I push myself to my feet and plod along behind Finaan, desperate for the end of this gods-forsaken day so I can let this broken body—and my battered soul—rest.
It’s quiet when I wake up, a stillness in the cavern and inside me that’s soothing. My instinct after centuries in Hel’s service is to revolt. To replace the calm with anger and hate and the furor of her realm. But I can’t. After everything that happened—on the heels of yesterday’s near-death and Wrath’s response to it—I need this reprieve like I need air to breathe.
I’ll be Hel’s elf again soon. For now, though, I’m the innocent boy who walked Midgard, alone and perpetually hungry, but hopeful that the gods might offer me something better. That I’d find alife worth living.
You can have that life,the accursed dragon whispers in my thoughts, their voice gentle and kind.
