“And yours?” Hel asks, her voice deceptively low. “Did you hope to fuck your little elf after you returned her to me?” She pauses, watching me through narrowed eyes. “I told you to bring them all. Instead, you chose two of them—your mate and the sniveling oaf whose magic you borrowed to use her.”
“She’s destined for me,” I groan, gasping for air at the end, despite the bursts of pain it shoots into my chest. “I could not fight the fates’ commands.”
“Could not, or would not?” Hel barks. “You lied to me, indulged in your own wants and tried to hide it.”
I’m silent for a moment, my sluggish brain struggling to catch up and grasp onto something … anything … that might save me from this agony. “I did your bidding, my mistress,” is all I can find in my desperate thoughts. “I had a plan to use her to get the others. It would have worked.”
“You were bringing her backforyou,” she croons, leaning down to look directly into my eyes. “You hid her from me for years. Why would I possibly believe that would change?”
“Because everything has changed,” I cry, dropping my head to stare into the pit instead of her face. “I couldn’t keep it from you any longer,” I add as my gaze finds hers again. “Send me back to the caves. I’ll bring her here, and she’ll tell you.”
“Where another elf can try to take your life? I think not. You’re mine, and I want you to burn.” Standing to her full height, she pivots and starts to stride away again, each step an angry peal at me.
“I’d have survived,” I call. “It was but one arrow.”
“You’d be dead if I hadn’t saved you,” she says without turning around. “You know it, and you’re lying to me again.” Pausing, she spins her head. “You’re blessed beyond measure that I look after you, that I have the foresight and care enough to protect you when you can’t protect yourself. I felt the wound and sent Jörmungandr to retrieve you. You’re whole, your body responding to my ire, because I willed it. And you’ve yet to thank me. Ungrateful serpent.”
I was paralyzed, and fuck, does that sound like the true blessing right now. But those thoughts won’t get me anywhere.
“I am indeed blessed beyond measure. I thank you, my liege. I will never fail you again.”
“No, you won’t,” she agrees. And then she turns her head and stalks out, never looking back again.
Fuck me. I’m gonna be here a long time.
Time is a concept, a construction of mortal minds so they can find order in the chaos of their lives, a way to structure existence into a belief system their mentality can grasp.
I know that. But when you’re living it, time feels very, very long. And very real.
I’ve no idea how long I’ve been here, nothing by which to measure the passage of time. I’m back in Helheim, so I need neither food nor drink. I don’t piss or shit. My body is in stasis, the flames and Hel’s occasional resurrection when myexhausted body gives up the only constants. I don’t sleep, not with my skin peeling off bit by agonizing bit. I pass out, for hours or days or weeks. I doubt I’ll ever know.
I tried counting, but Hel learned of my attempt to occupy my thoughts and sent Pudge.
He’s as angry with me as I’d expect. I was a bastard to him.
My former peon appeared when I’d counted to 601,722, the second time I tried to stay awake long enough to reach a million. He carried a spear taller than him. And sharp. Painfully, gut-wrenchingly sharp.
Which is exactly what it did. The chains brought me close enough to the vengeful male to grant him free access to my stomach and everything nearby. His laughs as he explained my sin and tugged out my guts, in bits or gushes, drove away the sleep that tried to lull me in.
I haven’t counted or done anything else to measure time since then.
This is my existence, and I know it won’t change. So I build a wall between my body and mind, and live in my thoughts. Mostly of Finaan, those luscious tits. The ass I’ve yet to fuck. The mouth I’d hoped would suck me dry as soon as I took her to the dragons.
Other images—pictures I hadn’t even realized I’d captured at the time—shove aside those lascivious thoughts. And these matter more, somehow. The emotions she reveals with the movements of her eyebrows. The jaunty quirk that’s sometimes playful, sometimes annoyed, and other times inquisitive, depending on its curve. The two drawing together when sheneeds to focus, or is confused or angry. The smirk I drew from her more and more as we traveled together.
The way she watched me when she thought I didn’t notice.
And then bit her lip when her eyes trailed down to my cock. Which they did more than she’ll ever admit.
She’d started to want me as desperately as I want her. She’d have been mine if it wasn’t for that fucker.
Balin holds more of my attention than I’d like. I want to luxuriate in the memories of Finaan’s cunt soaking my cock. My sanity is a thin thread, barely grasping to the edges of reality. I’ve no space for him. But revenge is a powerful force. It leads us down paths we might not expect. And I need my vengeance like I need my skjaldmær’s moans in my throat.
He was vicious in our youth, a jealous, grubbing, back-stabbing child. He’s something else now. Something beyond even Hel’s depravity. Something cruel and sadistic and voracious.
Still jealous. He wants Finaan, and I take every bit of pleasure I can find in this gods-forsaken place knowing he’ll never have her. She won’t be mine, but at least she won’t be his either.
She’ll belong to herself. As she should.
