63. Kain
Chapter 63
Kain
I don't know how to keep my hands off her. She jokes that it's because I spent two hundred years unable to touch anyone, but I swear to her, repeatedly, that my curse could never have existed and I would still wish to spend every moment of every day touching her beautiful skin, kissing her full lips, making her squeal and giggle and moan.
It's been two weeks since my curse was removed, and Thyrvi still glares at me every time I scoop her up and carry her somewhere nobody can bother us. As soon as those pale cheeks color, giving her thoughts away completely, Odin himself couldn't stop me.
There is so much about herself, about her body, that she still doesn't know about, and I'm in no rush. I have an immortal lifetime to discover all the ways I can make those gorgeous eyes widen in shock, then shutter in bliss as glorious obscenities tumble from her lips.
And she's so willing. She does every single thing I tell her to, and every time I watch her fall apart, my name on her lips, I shatter too.
When I'm not trying to make her feel invincible through sex, we talk for hours.
I tell her everything. The battles I've fought, the victories I've won, and the darkest thoughts I've had, the worst impulses I have to deny myself.
She doesn't fear me, or judge me, and I know she understands.
She tells me about herself too, and each with each conversation, she carries more pride, more confidence.
She's the strongest Valkyrie of all the rooks in Featherblade, without a doubt. She's fast once she gets control of her wings, winning most aerial competitions, and her aim with her bow in flight impresses even Valdis. Between her powerful magic and Thyrvi by her side on the ground, she's formidable in combat.
On occasion she still accidentally freezes her body when she loses control in bed, but so far that's only enhanced the experience.
My people will take a while to come around to her, but they are at least polite. Two hundred years of never believing they will see the sky again, and living on the barest rations that could grow under the canopy of solid earth, all because of the ice-fae… I can't blame them. They didn't see what I saw, what the tiara showed us all. Madivia and her sister were willing to give up their own lives to stop their parents' cruel reign, before the tiara wiped everything.
I don't blame her at all.
Strangely, I don't feel the need to blame anyone anymore.
I haven't forgotten. I'll never forget, and nor will Skoll. Wolves are not supposed to be kept in pens. The gods have abandoned us, that much is clear from what Sigrun and Featherblade told us. I'm shocked to find that I'm relieved that I was not forsaken by the deities I worshipped all my life. My punishment was carried out by the Vanir, and if I am to resent anyone, it is them. The High Fae who hide in the canopy, acting in the gods' names in their absence.
But my rage is no longer impotent. All the bitterness, all the hatred—it's morphed. I have somewhere to direct it all now.
I spend hours and hours, all my physical energy that isn't going into making Madivia scream, rebuilding my home.
She helps, whenever she is not training at Featherblade. She can withstand the heat longer now, by freezing herself, and I'm certain that she is slowly gaining the respect of Lady Brenda, the new ruler of the Fire Court.
Sigrun is true to her word, and fae from all over come to help too. It's the most the fae courts have worked together in as long as I can remember, and the evidence is here before me right now.
I'm standing at Madivia's side, to the right of the large dais hosting the thrones of the Ice Court.
"You look like a fucking queen," says Madivia as she squeezes her sister's hand and admires her gown.
"Language, Maddy," Freydis whispers back, but she's smiling.
She does look like a queen, in a dress that looks like it has been made completely from diamonds and with a crown on her head that glistens with sapphires.
"You look better," I tell Madivia in my head.
She cuts her eyes sideways at me, but says nothing.
She's in her Valkyrie leathers, blue hair loose, wings gleaming and glittering behind her. Thyrvi noses past one of her wings and looks out at the crowd beyond the curtain concealing us.
The royal families of every court are out there, and other nobles besides. I can see black-haired shadow fae, white-haired gold-fae, green-haired earth-fae, and, with a thrill, ash-haired fire-fae. Only a few agreed to come, including Lady Brenda, but it is enough. It is a start.
"The red-haired female with the baby?" Madivia says, glancing at Thryvi, who must have just asked her a question. "She's married to the King of the Shadow Court. She was a human rune-marked."
Freydis nods. "She was the reason for the tournament all the courts took part in last year."
"I want to hear all about that, later." Curiosity shines in Madivia's eyes, and my heart thumps.
Fuck, I love that look.
I reach out and grab her wrap, yanking her to me and pressing my lips to hers, hard.
She bats at my arm ineffectively. "Kain! We're at a formal event!"
"Fuck them," I growl against her lips.
Her sister coughs. "They're about to draw the curtains," she says awkwardly.
Reluctantly, I let her go. Her eyes are bright, and her cheeks are rosy as she straightens her shirt.
"I love you. Never stop being curious."
She smiles at me. "I love you too. Never stop kissing me like that."