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“And I’m supposed to believe you?”
She lowered her head, trying for deference. “It is the truth, my lord.”
“Who are you? Why were you traveling so close to the land of the dwarves?”
“My friend and I have always heard how beautiful Svartheimr is in late spring, so we wanted to see for ourselves. We lost track of time and night came upon us sooner than we planned.”
“You did not answer my first question. Who are you?”
“Shalendra Tornorin, my lord.” Knowing her last name would give her away, she used Soliana’s last name, something the two had done since their childhood. It had always been great fun to pretend to be cousins, and although there was no resemblance, it had been easy to pass as such. Hopefully, Soliana would remember this and not give away her true identity.
“You are related to the other prisoner?”
“Yes, my lord. We are distant cousins and grew up together.” Her mind turned back to the valley, imagining tiny details. A small rabbit appeared, hopping a few feet before stopping to nibble on the petals of a pretty pink flower.
The king’s expressions turned sour. “Fine. Guard, return her to her cell. I will talk to the other prisoner and see if their stories match.” His hooded gaze met hers. “Something isn’t quite right, but I will figure it out, and who you really are.” With a wave of his hand, he rose and walked back the way he’d come, slamming the door behind him.
The guard grabbed her arm and forced her in front of him. “Go,” he commanded.
You did well, Shalendra. Very well, indeed, but something is very wrong.Thatwas not a dwarf. The being posing as king is a demon.
Shalendra retraced her steps as they returned to the lower sections of the palace, but the stone’s declaration about the demon made her blood run cold. She desperately needed to get a message to her parents or Freyja. The last thing she wanted to do was waste away in the dwarf king’s dungeon, much less deal with demons.
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I hope you enjoyedCurse of the Elf Lord.
Although the search for Olivier and Jessica is ongoing, Shalendra is beginning a journey of her own. Does she have what it takes to find her aunt and uncle or will her unwanted rescuer create even more problems for her to solve? Make sure to stay tuned for Cyran and Shalendra’s book 3 in the Kingdom of the Elf Lords!
Want to read more about this world and how Russian Night Witches get involved with Norse gods and goddesses? Turn the page for an excerpt ofNight Witch Reborn: Natalya, book 1 in Flight of the Night Witches
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NIGHT WITCH REBORN: NATALYA
FLIGHT OF THE NIGHT WITCHES, BOOK 1
Prologue
Asgard
“What valor!” Freyja exclaimed, her gaze riveted on the battle scene playing out in the Gods’ Glass. Millennia ago, Óðinn had stolen the looking glass from a Greek oracle to see anywhere in the nine worlds, and Freyja had stolen it from him. Her hand gripped the edge of the huge glass disc suspended from the ceiling by thick, black metal chains. “Look at how the pilots maneuver the nimble planes to avoid the German cannon and machine gun fire. I believe these planes are called U-2s, but there are several models, so I could be wrong. The differences are slight, and in the Glass, they are too small for me to be certain. I do know they are called PO2s near the end of the war.”
Idunn stepped up beside her, a frown marring her beautiful face. “Why do you insist on watching the humans battle each other? Nothing good will come of their war. They will continue to kill each other until no one’s left.” She leaned forward and stared hard at the unfolding air battle. “Who’s flying the planes anyway?”
“Women. Russian women.”
Idunn’s frown deepened as she followed the two-winged planes. “There are how many—forty? Why are half of them veering off like that?”
Freyja leaned closer to her best friend. “Watch as the lead planes maneuver away from the others, drawing the German spotlights.” She pointed with a purple-tipped fingernail. “There. Did you see that?”
Idunn peered closer, her face almost touching the glass. “What? What am I looking for? They’re all moving too fast!” Idunn’s gaze followed Freyja’s purple fingernail to another lead plane. A flash of light dropped from the back of the plane. “Did the pilot drop a flare?”
