With that little touch, I’m hers. I know what she wants and why. These unicorns have a strange relationship with the elves. They survive in Álfheimr alone and have realized over the centuries that their gifts complement each other. It’s an honor and a duty to carry elven riders, as it is for the elves to care for the unicorns, including protecting them from the jötnar who appear in Álfheimr too often, trying to claim the herd for themselves.
“Thank you,” I whisper, running my hands across her silky coat before digging them into her mane. Its strands slip through my fingers like drops of pure gold falling to the ground. Kalia whinnies again, then steps back, dropping to her front knees and gesturing with her head for me to mount.
A kaleidoscope of butterflies launches in my gut, soaring within me as I throw my leg over Kalia’s back and she rises to stand with the rest of the herd. A grin splits my cheeks, my gaze dancing around to capture every second of this adventure. I’m nearly as excited about this as I was to ride my dragon for the first time, all those centuries ago.
Turning toward Wregen, I wonder what they could possibly have in mind, but one of the larger elves answers my question before I can ask it. He drops from his mount at Wregen’s side and hoists Wregen up and over the unicorn’s back. The steed—a black creature, glowing like a pearl with hints of green, blue, and a deep violet—stands as still as stone whilethe elf ties Wregen’s arms and legs together, tightly, across the unicorn’s stomach.
He’s gonna hurt when they take him down, I realize with a smirk. Not that I can be angry about it. Wregen likes pain, after all.
The elf tosses himself behind the rider of a different unicorn and the group turns toward the forest, launching into a run.
I’ve ridden horses before, although not often. None could travel with the speed of these unicorns. Like I thought when I first saw them, their hooves don’t actually touch the ground. They did while we stood together, but as soon as they start moving, they lift, levitating as they glide over earth’s surface. It’s surreal, as if we’ve journeyed into a different plane for this trip toward the elves’ home.
But nothing could have prepared me for what comes next. The group races straight toward the closest wall and pivots. One after another, the beasts form a line that gradually spirals up, as if invisible stairs jut out from the sides of this cavern, creating a path to carry us into the sun. I can barely hear my racing heart or the wind that rushes past us. The echoes of their hooves on air alone vibrates my very soul, filling every part of me with a sense of wonder I haven’t experienced since I was a child.
We ride like this for several minutes, the distance to the surface greater than I realized from the bottom. I spend the entire time with my stomach in my throat and an enormous smile on my face, grateful for Wregen’s treachery because it brought me to this place, gave me this experience. Even Ruxi joinsin the fun, spiraling beside us, their dragony smirk achingly beautiful, Svend and Rata laughing on their back.
Too soon, I start to see the tops of trees, as blue as those beneath us. And then we break free of the cavern, soaring into the bright day.
I don’t try to hold back the giggle that erupts from me. I’ve never felt so light and free.
Wregen’s words before we stepped into Álfheimr whisper into my thoughts, and images of my waiting dragon bounce through my mind. Now, I understand why he warned me. Even after a few seconds, I recognize the feel of home. And I’m not sure how I’ll ever leave.
Chapter seventeen
Wregen
Shackles
Thattreacherousbastard.
Balin shot me. One little nudge from Wrath when that fucker provoked him—trying to lay claim to what’s ours—and the elf sent that arrow straight for my heart. He wanted me dead, and Wrath gave him an excuse. A flimsy one, but it probably would have sufficed if he’d succeeded.
Balin will pay for his attack as soon as I get out of here. My skjaldmær will free me, or that weasel if she refuses.
I think it will be her, though. Warmth fills me at the memory of Finaan’s face when Balin loosed his arrow, her shove to move me out of the way. That moment tells me everything I need to know about my mate. She’s mine. She refuses to admit it, but now we both know. She needs me as much as I need her. I’m going to wring that confession out of her if it’s the last thing I do.
I plop onto the bed and look around my cell. It’s the same one that held me before, I realize as I look at the gashes Wrath dug when he seized control of our body the last time they brought us here. The surface is too far away from my mistress, and I struggle to control my beast without her magic.He appeared twice that time: when we first encountered them in the cavern below, where they proved that the poison on those fucking arrows is strong enough to tame even my beast; and again in this cage, built with magic capable of holding him.
I despise this place and every elf in it. They held me here for weeks before, forcing Hel to intervene and bargain for my freedom. I paid dearly for that. Hel suspended me over the pit for every day I was late, and then doubled it because of her hatred for Freyr, the god who convinced their queen to let me go. They agreed, with the caveat that I was never to set foot in any part of their land again, even the cavern. But I’ve no better route to return to Helheim and they rarely visit that place. Fucking fate, drawing them there at the worst time possible.
Now Balin has Finaan, and I’m trapped in this accursed cell.
I’ll kill him. Slowly. And I’ll enjoy every second of it.
He keeps me here for hours before deigning to come visit, sauntering in with the smirk I know too well, a box in his hands.
“I knew you’d return,” he tells me as he drags over a stool and sits in front of my cage, setting the box on the floor next to him. “It’s sooner than I expected, but you’ve always liked to surprise me.”
“I live for it,” I mutter, staring down at him perched on that fucking chair.
“Is that what you call your existence in Helheim? Life?” His eyes are three feet below mine but fuck if it doesn’t feel like he’s looking down at me, as he’s always done.
“I call it glorious. I serve the most powerful female in any of the worlds, and I wouldn’t trade it for a thing.”
He knows I’m lying through my teeth, but I don’t give a fuck. We’ve been lying to each other for centuries.
He nods, watching me, before bending down to lift the lid and pull out a pair of shackles. “The female you’re traveling with…”
