Now I turn to stare at him. “Do you really want to have this conversation here, with poisonous arrows aimed at you?”
“Wrath is confined. They won’t hurt me unless he appears, and he won’t. But if you want to see your dragon again,” he intones, slowly pivoting his head to give me his full attention, “you’ll say whatever you must to leave this place.” His words are deadly quiet, the deceptive calm I’ve already learned precedes anger in this volatile male.
“Give it a rest, Wregen,” I murmur before looking again at the gathered elves. Balin’s watching us, his head cocked to one side.
“I think you should join us for a meal,” he says after a moment. “You’ve probably traveled far. You must be hungry.”
“We’re not going to eat with you, Balin,” Wregen declares. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“No,” Balin responds, his gaze shifting to me. “She’s one of ours. I’ll speak with her before you go.”
A jolt of anger spears through our bond, Wregen and Wrath joining together in fury at the male’s demand. I feel more than see Wregen stiffen beside me.
“She’s mine,” he snarls as he looks at me, his dark eyes smoldering. The threat in his voice bounces off the distant walls, echoing around us. “You. Will. Let. Us. Pass,” he adds, his gaze still directly on me.
I glare at him and turn back toward Balin. That elf watches us for a moment, cocking his head to the other side. His eyesnarrow as the corners of his lips tip up, and then he looses his arrow.
The bolt flies directly at Wregen, the mate bond rising within me in horror when I realize he doesn’t know yet and won’t be able to move in time. In that blink of an eye—as I watch the tip shooting too fast for him to respond—I experience the most profound terror I’ve ever known. My bones shake, heart doubling its beats as my chest searches for air. My body reacts before my brain, arms reaching out to push him out of the way.
The arrow pierces his shoulder as he recognizes the danger. For a moment, it looks like Wrath is going to force his way out. Wregen’s skin shimmers like it did before his flesh turned to scales, and his nose grows, slivers of whiskers starting to poke through. The poison acts before he can become his beast, though.
As quickly as he came, Wrath withdraws, leaving Wregen to roll his head oh-so-slowly to the side, scowl at Balin, and mutter, “You’ll pay for this.” And then he collapses where he stands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“I think you’ll stay a while,” Balin says with a smirk that could be laughter, or maybe triumph.
A shiver rolls down my spine, some long-buried part of me rising to whisper,Careful, and disappearing again. I know I need to watch the cold bastard, but I can’t keep my gaze from finding Wregen. He’s still alive, his chest rising and falling slowly. And as much as I wish I was disappointed, I’m not. He’s my mate, and while I don’t want him in my life, I do wanthim to live. Even if it’s the miserable, lonely existence waiting for him in Helheim.
“He’ll come with us,” Balin says in a dismissive tone. “He’s not worth the trouble we’ll have with Hel if we let him die.”
“You will save him, though?” I demand as I turn to glare at him. “The poison won’t hurt him?”
Balin looks at me, and this smirk is unmistakable. “My lady,” he declares grandly, bowing from atop his unicorn in an oddly graceful move, “you’ve nothing to fear. This one’s like a roach, virtually indestructible. He’s much too obstinate to be felled by a single arrow.”
I focus on Wregen again and breathe out a sigh of relief. He looks like he’s sleeping. He’d be in much worse shape if the poison was strong enough to kill him. “Thank you,” I mutter, although I’m not sure why. He’s the one who shot him.
“Welcome to Álfheimr,” Balin continues, pulling my attention back to him. “Your home, if I’m not mistaken. You’ll join us for dinner tonight.”
With that, he turns toward the closest elf, a female as tall and broad as him. He relays a few words I can’t hear and nudges his unicorn on its shoulder. His mount tosses his head and turns toward the forest, throwing itself into a gallop as soon as it’s free of the rest of the group.
“I’m Faelwyn,” the female elf tells me with a quick nod. “We’ve got no reason to distrust your dragon, but no reason to trust it, either.”
“They won’t hurt you,” I assure Faelwyn as I turn toward Ruxi and then look up at Svend. “Nobody will hurt you,” I add, glaring at him with a warning I’m sure he can’t miss.
He responds with an intentional, slow blink of his eyes, and I decide to trust him, for now, at least.
“We’d be honored to eat with you,” I assure as I focus on her again. “Ruxi can carry Wregen.”
“We’ll take care of the wretch,” she mutters, not even bothering to look in his direction. “Kalia will take you,” she tells me as she looks at a golden unicorn standing toward the rear of the group, her voice full of pride.
“I can ride her?” I stammer, my heartbeat kicking up again, this time in excitement. “She’d carry me?”
“You’ll need to ride where we’re going, and she enjoys welcoming elves who’ve never ventured home before,” Faelwyn responds, casting a fond smile at the unicorn. “It’s an honor she claimed long ago, and we indulge her.”
“How do you know? Can you speak with her?” I haven’t been able to drag my gaze away from the stunning creature. Even her horn is gold, shimmering as if it’s made of the metal that’s treasured on Vanatia for its beauty and scarcity.
“Not in any way you’d understand without experiencing it yourself,” Faelwyn explains as I start to walk toward Kalia. “We’ve learned over the years to relay information. It’s given us a unique relationship that benefits them and us. When you touch her, you’ll understand.”
I approach Kalia slowly, afraid to spook her despite Faelwyn’s assurance that she’ll welcome me on her back. She’sstill, as if she realizes I’m more anxious than she is. But then she whinnies—exactly the way a horse would, low in her throat—nudging me gently. And the spell breaks.
