Wregen
Chapter fifteen
I Crave Her Fight
My rebellious mate doesn’t like what I told her.
I’m surrounded by gravel, struggling to breathe—but determined not to reveal a single bit of weakness to her—and my cock is nearly as hard as the rocks surrounding it.
Wrath is rumbling in our gut, as turned on by her as he is angry about the earth’s attempt to swallow us whole. And terrified that it will succeed.
Fuck, does her rebellious attitude twist our emotions. We’re feral for her fight, even as our soul hungers for her submission. It’s almost enough to break my beast free of the dread that’s crippling him.
And he’s fucking crippled. My treacherous brain keeps vomiting out memories of the day the earth nearly swallowed us in Midgard, even as I try to focus on something—anything—else.
We won’t have a single chance if we’re so paralyzed by fear, we can’t convince Finaan to help us.
But we’ll ruin everything if we start spilling out secrets, like Wrath seems determined to do in his desperation to find the key to coaxing her.
My skjaldmaer doesn’t realize that the turnip beast is here only because my magic trapped the dragons in this world.
I’m still not sure how the fuck it happened—because like my mate, the dragon the fates chose for me should be immune to my persuasion—but some confluence of the mating bond, along with mine and Hel’s magic, pulled Ruxi here.
It just couldn’t hold my dragon with the others, once I drew close enough for our bonds to connect.
Wrath and I can never let Finaan know my role in removing the elves and dragons from Vanatia—or the fact that Hel wouldn’t have been able to do it without me. Finaan can go on believing that my relationship with Hel alone will give me the ability to free the other dragons.
A spiral of emotions flickers across Finaan’s face, leading to the frown that tells me she’s accepted my half-truth. She throws her shoulders back, though, and narrows her eyes at me.
“I think we’ll take our chances,” she declares. “We’re resourceful. We can figure it out.”
“Have you so little regard for the beasts trapped there?” I wonder.
Ignoring Wrath’s terrified blabbering, I keep my gaze focused on my mate, even as I feel myself slip further into this web the earth has spun around me.
“You’re a smart elf. Smart enough to know that if there was a way out, they’d have discovered it.
Or do you think them too dull to find an exit without you? ”
Her shoulders droop for a moment, but then she pushes them back, stubborn creature that she is. “I don’t believe you,” she lies.
“I don’t care,” I lie back.
Of course, I fucking care. She managed to convince my dragon to carry away my weasel, and I don’t think they’re coming back. My skjaldmaer is the only way out of this mess, and I refuse to die before I fuck Finaan. I need to hear her scream my name when she comes on my cock.
I glance down, wondering how much more time I have.
My nipples have disappeared, along with most of my chest. I’m being crushed, my ribs collapsing in so far, I’m certain they’ll break soon.
Every time I breathe, the pressure increases, little knives lashing out to spear my nerves and muscles.
My bones are trapped in place, bound forever in the pebbles that will best us if Finaan doesn’t act.
Still, they’re trembling like a leaf in the wind, unleashing even more blades to drive their tips into me with every shake.
I’ve finally discovered a pain I can’t tolerate. Even my cock agrees, collapsing despite the fire in our mate’s eyes. Combine that with Wrath’s unholy fear of being smothered in this pit, and I am getting very, very angry.
By the gods, I’ll enjoy punishing her for this.
She’s quiet for a few seconds, her hands lifting to her hips as her lips purse.
She stands like that often. At first, I thought she hoped to tempt me with those luscious tits.
That’s not it, much as I’d like it to be.
No, it’s a way of claiming power. She makes herself large, steadies her will as she straightens her back.
It’s going to take me decades to break her when we get back to Helheim, and I’m going to enjoy every single day.
“Take me to my dragon without a promise to suck your dick,” she proposes, her tone flat. “I’ll free you if you agree to do that.”
“I won’t bargain that away,” I assure her, not a hint of uncertainty in my voice. I might give her something else. Not that. “You will drop to your knees and beg to suck my cock,” I remind her, “and I’ll fuck you if you refuse. Or I won’t take you to your dragon.”
More silence, those scrumptious lips still pouting at me.
“Start talking to Ruxi,” she proposes, nodding to herself. “We have to communicate with them. You need to help us.”
“I don’t want that creature in my head,” I snarl. “We won’t allow it.”
“Is Wrath awake?” she asks, as if she might convince my beast to allow this.
“Would he sleep while you make such foolish demands of us?”
“Ask him, or let me,” she insists, her gaze dropping for a moment to remind me how far down I’ve sunk. “That’s the price. If I were you, I’d accept before it’s too late.”
“I won’t have them in my head. Get. Me. Out,” I grunt. Fuck me if it isn’t getting hard to talk. This bitch better get her shit together, or I really might die in this fucking hole. My beast will haunt me in Helheim if I allow that to happen.
“Why can’t Wrath do it?” she asks, cocking her head to the side like she has all the time in the gods-damned world. “Can’t you shift and force your way free?”
“Wrath is … unwilling … to emerge while we’re trapped here,” I force out, every word a breath I can’t afford to lose. My lungs collapse more with each exhale, the air I’m taking in much less than I need to survive.
“Is he afraid?” She cocks her head to the other side, suddenly very interested in Wrath’s phobia.
Holy. Fuck. Does she not know we’re dying here?
“Get me out, Finaan,” I croak. “This isn’t funny.”
“I’ve told you my terms,” she responds with a shrug.
“I wouldn’t be able to free you anyway. You need Ruxi.
Ask them nicely—tell them you’ll speak with them in the future—and they’ll probably come.
” She looks up, the corners of her lips rising in a smirk I want to twist off that arrogant face.
Preferably with a gag and maybe a blindfold.
“Or maybe they’re as ready to be done with you as I am,” my stubborn mate adds after a moment. “You’ll never know until you ask.
She looks at me again, letting that smug grin split her cheeks, and she waits.
I sink deeper, the rocks reaching my throat, forcing me to extend my arms as high above my head as I can. “Wrath won’t allow it,” I choke out. “Bargain for something else.”
“Have you checked with him?” Her voice is innocent, as if she’s a na?ve damsel, ignorant of the price she’s demanding. She knows him, though. She must realize he’d sooner die than speak with the turnip beast.
Asssssk them, he warbles inside of me, his voice softer, meeker, than I’ve ever heard it.
You want me to seek the turnip beast’s help, to speak with them?
We will not die here. Asssssk them.
Fuck me. They’ve twisted me into a corner and it pisses me off even more than the gods who decided to lead me to this trap. But I don’t want to die here, either.
Come free us, I yell at the creature soaring over our head.
That’s not how you ask for a favor, they respond.
I like a fiery mate. I’ll be damned, though, if I’m going to tolerate a cheeky dragon.
Do you want to see your draikana again? I demand. Thank fuck we can speak without our voices, because I’ll never use mine again if they don’t get me out of here soon.
You don’t stand between my draikana and me, they claim. Ask me nicely.
The ground has reached my chin, pushing my head up and back as I fight to keep my mouth and nose above ground. My stomach is churning, as much from this fucking dragon as the rocks pressing in on me.
Gods, do I hate giving in to them. But give in, I do.
Please come get me, I bite out, letting my anger infuse every word, each syllable.
Since you asked so nicely, they respond with a purr, swooping down to offer their claws to me.
I grasp on, a shiver rolling through me as I feel my dragon for the first time—other than their fight with Wrath all those centuries ago—relishing the softness of their claws.
They’re as hard as rocks, but covered in a fur of some kind.
Why the fuck I care, I cannot tell you.
I grip their talons with every bit of strength I can muster and hold on as they begin to tug.
Fuuuuuuuck me. I think they’re trying to kill me after all.
My body is stretching the way no body ever should.
Torture devices from my youth come to mind, and I wonder if I’m going to rip in half the way those poor sots always did when the wheels pulled their hands and feet too far apart.
I thought the pain was unbearable before.
This, though, puts it to shame. Every smidgen of skin, all of my bones, the tissues and muscles that connect them, are burning alive. Even the pit doesn’t compare.
For a moment, I consider letting go. What do I have to live for, anyway? A female who hates me? A beast who abhors everyone except the mate we’ll never claim? A dragon who my beast soon will kill anyway?
An existence I’ve despised since the first time my cock rose, my beast erupting with the manhood I wished had never come?