He pauses, his jaw shifting as he lifts his chin and looks down at me. His chest puffs up like a balloon, and he grips the knife in his hand so tightly, I wonder how it doesn’t break.
“I’m blessed to be able to share with you a small part of Hel’s favor, as you did with me for so many years.”
“Oh, fuck off,” I mutter, pushing myself to my feet. Grasping onto the anger, I use it to fuel my decrepit body. Taking one more deep breath, I step away from the wall and stand on my own.
I can do this.
“Is she in her rooms?”
“She awaits you there,” he tells me with a nod.
Waving my hand, I gesture him forward. Because I’ll be gods-damned if I let that fucker walk behind me. “Lead the way.”
He spins and prances toward the door, so fucking happy in my misery, I almost end his life before he reaches it. But that would piss off Hel, and I won’t do that again.
I’ve learned my lesson. My skjaldmær is safely away from here, and I need to go back to the way things were. I’ve always known this was my life. I’ll survive on memories.
Some-fucking-how, I keep up with the stumpy legs that race down one hallway after another, leading me toward answers. Or, knowing Hel, probably more questions. Three times, I stumble, but I manage to regain my feet without toppling onto my ass or my face. Every part of me hurts, as if my body is being ripped apart from within, and I try to find the place where I escaped the pain above the pit.
I can’t, though. The havoc pounding at my senses stops any rational thought other than moving forward.
Still, I pause at Hel’s doorway, struggling to calm the maelstrom in my head. I may not have another chance at this conversation. She’ll suspend me over the pit forever if I don’t tell or give her whatever she’s summoned me for. Maybe I’m doomed, and this is the announcement. Whatever it is, I need to get my shit together before I face it.
The door swings open sooner than I’d like and I straighten my back. Biting back the gasp of pain, I follow Pudge into Hel’s chamber.
She doesn’t look up, but I hadn’t expected she would. She’ll acknowledge us when she chooses. Or not.
We stand by her chair exactly where she likes and wait. I focus on the flames in her fireplace, dragging my thoughts away from my tortured bones whenever they try to take me there. I will stand here until she tells me I can move. There’s no other choice.
Finally, long minutes after we arrive, she speaks.
“Thank you, Pudge.” Her voice is ice as always.
The little peon pivots and traipses toward the door. As he’s about to step out, Hel stops him.
“Pudge,” she says, lifting her eyes to look at me. “Arrange to exchange your things with Wregen’s. You’ll take his room and he’ll take yours until I decide otherwise.”
The gloating victory that slithers from that little piece of shit sets my teeth on edge, a muck covering my skin even more distracting than the pain hammering within it. I want nothing more than to stalk toward him and pull his stomach out through his throat.
But I push thatneeddown deep into whatever hole inside me Wrath is shoved into and remain the statue my liege demands.
This wait is even longer. She reads, occasionally glancing up at the fire and then dropping her head to look at the scroll she’susing to torture me. Finally, a long fucking time after Pudge left, she closes it and sets it on the table beside her.
“Is your loyalty to me?” she queries, her tone low and polite.
A chill rolls down my spine. This is the voice that always—every single gods-damned time—precedes death.
“Perpetually, my mistress,” I respond without hesitation.
“Yet you chose your mate over me.” Now she turns her cold gaze to look at me, and I know how truly fucked I am. I’ve only seen that expression a few times. It’s … not good.
“I failed you. I cannot deny that. Yet, my intent was to do your bidding, to use her to retrieve the others. I was leading her back here, as you commanded. I planned to admit my dishonesty and accept your punishment.”
She’s again silent for too long, every muscle in my body clenching as I fight to hold still. Finally, she nods, her gaze never leaving mine.
“It is true, you were on the path home,” she concedes. “Perhaps you’re still loyal to me over all others. Over your mate.”
“I swear it, my mistress.” My voice doesn’t waver, thank fuck.
