Wregen #2
And, okay, she might be right. I’ve been known to be demanding.
“Yes, it’s important.”
“Fine. Stay here. I don’t want to have to track you down.”
I smirk, pushing past her into her room and heading straight to her dresser to lean against it. “I’ll entertain myself while you’re gone.”
“Stay out of my drawers,” she barks, glancing at one of them and then back up at me.
“Of course,” I agree. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
It’s not those I’m after, tempting as they are.
Finaan glares. She knows me well enough to realize what she’s unleashed, but she turns toward the hall anyway, letting the door slam behind her.
I go straight to the closet. That’s where she keeps what I want. A little heap lays in a basket, and I thank the gods she didn’t send them out to be laundered. Probably doesn’t want to risk having to leave without them. Digging through the little pile, I find my prize, and then another.
Her bed calls to me, so I take my treasure over there. Laying down on the side closest to the door, where she slept last night, I lift her underwear to my nose and inhale.
Fuuuuuck me. I am the most fortunate elven mongrel to ever walk any of these worlds.
My mate’s essence coats her garments, a tantalizing combination of clove and mint that somehow is perfectly Finaan.
But these are not lightly worn. They ooze the scent of my skjaldmaer’s cum.
And I have no doubt whose image dominated her thoughts when she released on her fingers, probably moaning my name.
I lay there, bound by her fragrance, unable to do anything except wallow in it until she returns. I’ve nothing to hide. She wouldn’t expect anything else from me.
I forgot she’d have the rat with her. Not that I’d have stopped if I had remembered that.
Still, I’m annoyed when he squeaks, “Ewww,” from the open door when they return. “Is he … smelling … your private clothes?” the rat asks in that shrill tone he likes to use.
Finaan rolls her eyes again—a charming response that I need to elicit more often—before walking over to snatch my prize out of my hands.
“Those are mine,” I bark, sitting up as I grab for them. But she moves too quickly, dancing out of my reach before I can take them back.
“I told you to stay away from my clothes,” she mutters as she opens the closet and tosses them back into her basket.
“What you told me,” I remind her, “is to stay out of your drawers. I did.”
She spins, narrowing her eyes at me. “Fuck, you’re frustrating,” she mumbles, slamming the closet door, as if that could stop me.
“And I always will be,” I tell my skjaldmaer with a smirk. “Make no mistake.”
She shakes her head, then turns to the rat. “He asked me to get you,” she says. “I don’t know why and I don’t want to. I’m going to leave you both here. If he tries to get into my dirty clothes again, bite him and tell him to fuck off with whatever he wants you to do.”
“Gladly,” the rat promises, giving me his more-couth-than-you look. I might be offended if I cared. I don’t.
She drops the little creature on the bed and turns around to stalk out. Cute.
“Finaan said you require my services,” he chirps as he trots over and sits next to me.
I scoot up on Finaan’s bed, leaning against the headboard. “You can get into Balin’s office?” I ask as I stretch out my legs.
“I can go anywhere,” he proclaims, adding “for a price” with a twitch of his whiskers and the smallest shake of the tip of his tail.
“Your price is being allowed to travel with us. That’s more generous than you deserve.”
“But I already have that,” the little shit argues, “plus a promise from Ruxi to carry me to Yggdrasill when I’m ready. What more can you offer me?”
I give him the glare that would have wraiths in Helheim shitting and pissing on themselves if their bodies weren’t decayed bags of bones. But the cheeky little monster stares back. He’s spent millennia shuttling between the eagle and the serpent, and even my rancor isn’t enough to move him.
“You may continue to ride that cunt of a dragon who claims to be mine,” I concede. He likes the turnip beast; I may as well use them to get what I need.
But the varmint scoffs—an odd look for a rodent—and shakes his head. “I’ve got that too.” He’s quiet for a moment, whiskers twitching, and then one side of his itty-bitty lips lifts. “You’ll ride Ruxi with me,” he proposes, “at least two hours every day.”
“You too?” I snarl, reaching out to take the fucker by the neck and bring him to my eye level. “Did they put you up to this? I won’t ride that dragon. Ever.”
He shrugs as I squeeze, maybe because he realizes that he has a superpower I won’t be able to defeat.
His neck is too fucking small for my massive hands to hold it tightly. The single finger that fits between the little rat-bastard’s head and shoulders can’t compress his throat enough to stop his breath.
I try different positions, twisting my fingers as I try to find a place to grip, and he smirks at me.
Finally, I throw him back on the bed with a snarl, angry enough to stir Wrath. He rises within me, gazing through my eyes for a moment, and then disappears again, huffing his annoyance at being disturbed.
Gods, do I despise this little rodent.
“I should kill you.”
Another gods-damned shrug, those miniscule shoulders lifting in utter disregard of how dangerous and depraved I am. “If you have someone else to retrieve your prize,” he chirps, “ask them.”
Wrath, the treacherous fuck, rises again just long enough to laugh. At me, I think.
We need to get back to Helheim. These wayward shits are all out of control here.
“Ask for something else,” I demand. “I won’t give you that.”
“Then I won’t help you.” He sits down, his tail twitching behind him, and starts to groom himself.
A minute or more passes as I give him my Helheim scowl and wait for him to break down. But he barely notices. Instead, he rolls onto his back to start licking his balls, a soft purr rumbling from him, like he’s got absolutely nothing better to do.
“We don’t have much time,” I growl, flicking his asshole to pull his attention back to me.
He glares, then drops his head again to run his tongue over that little hole.
Rocks are forming in my gut, one growing in my stomach, the other right where my heart would be if I had one. My teeth are clenched so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t crack. “One hour,” I bite out, because I need him to do this and I’m done watching the little rat pleasure himself. “No more.”
His gaze flickers up, lips lifting at their edges. “Done. How can I help you?”
Finaan comes to my room after midnight, keys in her hand and a smile on her face.
“What took you so long?” I bark, the shackles on my wrists feeding a rage that’s been boiling inside me since the sun fell. I’ve tried everything to drag my mind away, but I can’t.
“Your errand for Rata,” she explains as she gestures for me to lift my wrists. “Balin stayed in his office until thirty minutes ago. The squirrel got what you wanted and came as quickly as he could.”
“And he got it?” My voice is tighter than I want it to be. I don’t like anyone knowing how important this is to me, even my skjaldmaer.
“He did,” she murmurs as she unlocks the cuffs, lifting both in front of us as if she thinks I want to keep them as souvenirs.
But I can’t focus on anything except the rush of magic that fills me, Wrath rising fully from his hole to stretch for the first time in days. I slow my breaths, letting myself enjoy this moment. And then I look down to see her still holding those fucking cuffs.
“Carry them with you until we leave the building,” she explains. “You’ll need to put them back on if anyone catches us.”
“The fuck I will,” I scoff.
“Yes, you sure as fuck will,” she counters. “It’ll let us try again if we miss our chance now.”
I glare but comply, shoving them into my pockets and stepping back inside the room to gather the few things I’m taking with me.
Balin and the other pricks were kind enough to provide us clothes, and we all managed to steal a few weapons and store food that will travel well.
We’ll take everything we can get from them.
“Where are the others?” I ask as she leads the way through the halls.
“Waiting for us outside. They’re already on Ruxi, who’s hiding nearby.”
We’re at the door within a few minutes, and I gleefully drop the cuffs on the ground as I follow her into the dark night.
We’re not alone, though. Before we’ve traveled a dragon’s-length, a unicorn steps in front of us, Balin on his back. He’s quickly joined by a dozen more, all of them aiming their gods-damned arrows at us.
“When will you realize, brother, that I’m always a step ahead of you?” he hurls. “You don’t leave here unless I release you. And mark my words, Wregen. I will never let you go.”
Fuck me. I should have killed him centuries ago.