“He does,” Wregen responds with a sharp dip of his chin. “Garmr is Hel’s enforcer. She used gifts she may never be able to reclaim when she turned him into this.”
Glow turns to me, eyes crinkling as her lips lift at the sides. “We should bind this beast with the chains his grandsire used to trap me.”
That’s what we do. We can’t figure out a way to embed the chains into the rock, so we do the next best thing. Praying to all the gods except Loki and his spawn, we roll Garmr’s decrepit, lifeless body back and forth while we wrap him as tightly as we can. Ruxi and Glow help, holding the ends to create tension so there’s no slack in the spirals. The chain is long enoughto create a tight coil, plastering his legs to his body, and light enough to tie in knots at his neck. And we tie a lot of knots, although we all know it probably won’t be enough.
When we’re done, everyone stands back and stares. I’m so fucking gross, it feels like I’ll never be clean again. I already had some of the mongrel’s filth on me from our fight and Wregen’s kiss, but after rolling that beast around, I’m coated. My hands have a layer of slime so thick and dense, it’s a wonder I can move them. My clothes may never be clean again. And I’m dying to wipe the gunk from my face, but I don’t think there’s a single clean thing I can use to help.
“He’s never looked better,” Wregen mutters, kicking Garmr in the stomach before turning to smile at me. He’s covered in gore but still the most stunning male I’ve ever seen.
I drag my gaze away, desperate to ignore the chaotic mix of emotions he stirs inside me. “Any idea where we can find some water?” I ask, turning to Ruxi. They followed some sixth sense to get to the pond that healed them after the elf attack, and I’m desperately hoping they can do the same thing now.
They’re not as dirty as Wregen, Svend, and me, but they’ve got a lot of shit on them. Turning away from us, they shake their snout vigorously, sending splatters onto the surrounding stone, then walk toward the closest wall and rub their face in the corner where it meets the floor. After a minute or so, they’ve dragged as much off their snout as they can without water.
Ruxi glances at me and then starts striding around the cave, pausing at every tunnel to inhale deeply. When they’ve gonenearly the whole way around, they still and walk deeper into the cavern, inhaling as they go.
“All right, all right,” Wregen grumps when they turn around to look at him. “This way,” he says, extending an arm in invitation, “in case you can’t tell.” He glares at his dragon. “Stop talking to me,” he adds in a voice that’s not quite as pissy as it used to be when he talked to them. “Wrath may be buried deep, but he’s watching, and he’ll be bitter about it when he rises.”
Ruxi flicks their tail, gives him a haughty shake of their head, and traipses off with Glow following on their heels.
I don’t know what happened, but I suspect the dragon won in that power struggle.
We trudge in silence. I’m not sure why Svend and Rata are so quiet—they’re normally more talkative than I’d like—but I don’t have the energy to ask. I’m physically exhausted, but more than that, my emotions feel raw and exposed, a broken body trapped outside in a storm.
Wregen’s keeping secrets from me, and I need to remember that whenever my body betrays me, as it does too often around him. His decision to join us in fighting Garmr shattered a barrier I’ve been building since I learned we’re mates. He’s been wearing it away, but he broke it wide open when he stood with us against Hel.
I want to hate him. I can’t, though. The heartbreak I felt when I thought he joined the dog against us—a blade that pierced that spot where my bond lives—and then my elation when I realized he hadn’t, keep echoing through my mind.
I shouldn’t care if he stands with Hel against us, but I do.
My body is heavy and light at the same time, as if I’ve been carrying a massive load, and realized I’m strong enough. I’m starting to see a life with Wregen, if we can find a way to end Hel’s hold on him.
And it terrifies me.
Sooner than I’d expected, Ruxi leads us into a cavern with a pool big enough for all of us. They don’t pause, extending their wings to throw themself into the water with a splash. Wregen’s laugh bursts out, and the air around me feels softer. I turn, hoping to catch a hint of his dimple, and can’t hold back my own smile when I do. This is the male the fates intended for me, not the asshole Hel created.
He doesn’t slow down either, not even bothering to peel off his boots before diving into the water. I can’t blame him. They’re covered with Garmr’s waste and need a bath as badly as everything else.
I kick off my shoes and follow him in, submerging myself fully as I scrub off scraps of dog. When I can stand myself again, I float, my head alone above the water. It feels alive, as if it wants to heal our injuries, clear our heads, take our pain.
“Oh. My. Gods,” spills from my lips before I can stop it, the sensation of floating in these waves a warm blanket I needed more than I realized.
“Yes?” Wregen calls from closer than I thought he’d be.
I spin, stepping back when I realize he’s barely an arm’s-length away. “I’m definitely not talking about you,” I tell him with narrowed eyes.
“I get confused,” he responds with a smile, “since I know you’ve only ever seen god in my arms.”
The laugh that erupts out of me catches me by surprise. “Is that what you call it?” I ask, glancing down at the dick that’s probably already hard for me. Wregen is very predictable.
“If you keep crying out to another god, that’s what we’ll both call it,” he rumbles. “If I could,” he says in that low tone that spears straight to my pussy, “I’d have you on your knees, praying to the only god that can give you what you crave. What you need. You’d be screaming my name when my hands and my cock take you to the paradise you’ve dreamt about for longer than you know.”
I’m speechless, fighting to control the shivers racing through me and the blazing fire his words ignite.
Stepping forward, he lifts a hand—clean, thankfully—and starts wiping gently at my cheek. “You’ve got some dog here,” he murmurs with a wink. “And here,” he adds as he wipes at my chin. “And here.” His thumb rubs my bottom lip, tugging it down a bit as his gaze lands there, eyes smoldering.
I feel that look in every part of me, a wave that starts at my lips and rolls through my body, triggering nerves as it passes. We’ve been teasing each other forever, testing the waters, trying to find our way through the barriers between us. I hated him for so long, and wish I still did. I need to find the revulsion he used to stir in me. It’s gone, though. There’s only him and me.
He’s all flame, burning everything in his way as he rips through life.
