Chapter 36 Svenn
I’ve decided my volatile hate for the curse cannot win against the ferocious longing clawing at my heart for the girl.
But the moment I wear the armor, an overwhelming rage takes hold of me. The word in my mouth becomes raw, polluted, and vicious. All I want to do is lash out.
Darkness blankets me.
Three seconds later, the elven queen is in my lap with blood dripping from her wrist. I quickly seal the wound with my venom.
“What just happened?” I can hear the horror in my own voice.
“It’s cursed,” she whispers with a shaky breath. “Your armor is cursed.”
Her words take a moment to sink in until the last drop of my confusion bleeds away. I regard her steadily.
“Do you feel that consciousness?” she asks.
Every awareness in me focuses on the metal covering my body.
I want more lives. Give us blood, give us chaos.
A mixture of surprise and rage fills me. I am no stranger to all manners of fuckery, but what strange abomination is this? The presence whispering through the armor is sickening and vile.
“I tried telling you. Curses feed on your emotions and dark thoughts,” the girl says, wiping her bloodied wrist with a napkin from the table. “They will inch their way into your brain to control you.”
I fail to utter a single word as Rhianelle Wiolant explains the nature of curses to me.
Yes, to me.
A Strigon created by the most powerful spell known to the world, the Rhunhraefn.
Another shocking realization stabs at me. Rhianelle’s blood is completely pure and untainted. She has not been poisoned by the Rhunhraefn. I don’t understand a damn thing. How is this even possible?
“There’s no puncture wound,” she muses, marveling at her healed hand. The girl seems to have absolutely no clue of the things I can do.
“My venom has healing and clotting ability. It also has sedative and— You should know all these things,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
“There is a door to that knowledge. I didn’t open it,” she confesses easily.
“So, you know nothing of me? My past? What I’m capable of?”
“Not much. I was hoping you would tell me when you’re ready.”
Her answer stuns me to a near silence.
“There is hunger, thirst, and cravings like any Nightwalker but my existence does not depend on blood,” I say after a while.
Her mouth parts with an ‘oh’.
“No need for seconds then?” she asks, touching the reddened skin of her wrist.
The act kills me.
I give her a slow shake of my head. Definitely not. I’ve been an ass from the moment the curse was implanted on her.
“I’ve hurt you.” My voice roughens despite my attempt to smooth it.
“You weren’t yourself. It’s the armor,” she says firmly. “You spent the entire night touching the tainted object. It’s no surprise the corruption leached into you.”
What does that say about you with the most powerful curse in existence embedded in your skin and flesh?
I look at the fragile female in my lap. Is she really unaffected by that horrid thing on her belly?
“Why didn’t you use the Rhunhraefn to fight me off?” I ask carefully.
The girl just shrinks at the question, avoiding my pointed stare.
“You can command me to shred myself to pieces in the cruellest ways and I will do it.” I push again.
“I will never use that thing,” she finally says in a small voice.
There’s the answer to the golden question that has been plaguing my mind from the beginning. Rhianelle does possess the curse’s power. She’s choosing not to use it on me.
“I could have killed you, Rhianelle. Killed everyone in this camp,” I mutter the raw fact we both know.
Her lower lip trembles. “You won’t. I know you’ll come back.”
My heart twists violently in my chest. The Elven Queen trusted me. She believed that I could fight through the curse’s possession.
“But if you try to hurt the innocent, I will stop you. I don’t need the Rhunhraefn to do it,” she warns, finding the strength to glare at me.
Of all the shitty things I said yesterday, crushing her dreams, insulting the memories of her sister, that was the one that got to her?
I almost scoff but it comes out more like a strangled sound.
Because, unlike the threat from Red, fear plummets in my gut. It’s different from the terror Lilith and her heirs wrought. This is more like admiration as I gaze over the flaming fury in Rhianelle’s eyes. I recognized the same fire when she was preparing to fight the demon and the orc.
I’m not religious but if there is ever such a thing as the wrath of a goddess, this is it. Even the beast in me is humbled by her magnificent presence.
“Rhianelle,” I say to her. She blinks slowly and I can see the soft girl returning.
A devastating ache claws inside my chest. The sensation is foreign. I haven’t felt it in years.
Guilt.
It coils around my spine, threatening to cripple me. I should be impaled on a stake for what I did.
I waited for Rhianelle to succumb to the Rhunhraefn, but it was me who faltered first. A lowly curse from an abandoned armor had taken possession of me.
In my weakness, I’ve harmed the girl. I press my head into my hands.
“Did I hurt you elsewhere?” I ask her, the shame burning underneath my skin.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry,” she says, forcing a smile for me. I feel like the worst fucker in history.
She rests her head on my breastplate, taking the chance to fulfill the need for the strange bond that tethers us. It’s taking all of my willpower not to wrap my arm around her and hold her close to me. But this moment is so delicate. I don’t want to ruin this bubble of peace.
A tremor goes through my body as the cursed armor speaks to me again.
I want a thousand heads. It beckons.
Rhianelle’s long ears twitch. She must have heard it too.
This stupid metal must be dropped at a temple so it can be sealed safely. It will take years of prayers by the holy priests and monks to banish such a hateful curse.
“I should take this off.” I manage.
“Wait. You look so good in it,” she quickly says.
I raise an eyebrow.
“I— I mean it fits you really well,” she stammers with her cheeks flushed. “Let me see what I can do.”
I damn near stop breathing when she climbs to kneel on my lap. A low grunt leaves my throat as her weight settles, pressing down on my thighs.
Her eyes flare for a moment. They narrow as she focuses on me. The girl has every right to lash at me. I will accept every punishment coming my way. If she wants to shove a spear through my heart, I will gladly help her.
“Go ahead. Do whatever you please.” I crane my neck to look up at her. Even in this position, she barely inches over me. Her unbound silver hair flows behind her in waves.
“Whatever I please?” Her soft face is tight as she glances down at me.
Rhianelle slowly slides her small hands up my chest, settling them on my shoulders. I watch her with absolute stillness as she hovers on top of me like a radiant dream.
“Anything,” I breathe out, reining in my desire for her. I place my hand on her slender waist.
She gently rests her forehead against mine, bracketing my neck with her hands. A shiver goes through me at the touch. The good kind that makes my erection strain against my breeches.
Death by strangulation. Is this to be my punishment?
She kisses my eyes, each one with infinite tenderness. No words pass between us but a more intimate feeling other than lust stirs in me.
And then she strikes.
Her small hands close upon something resting on my shoulder. The movement is refined if not a little odd and hilarious. Like a cat pouncing on a mouse.
“It’s done,” she chirps brightly.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
She carefully brings it over in front of my face. But there is nothing to see when she opens her palms.
“I’ve purified it,” she says, slapping my shoulder plate playfully. “You can keep the armor now. Go on, feel it.”
My nose detects a light singe in the air but every trace of the hideous presence on the metal plate is gone.
“It’s just a little worm. I’ve squished it.” She blinks and makes a gesture with her hand which I can only assume means a good sign.
I stare at the Elven Queen in utter disbelief.
“I have to meet my uncle and my knights now,” she chimes with a radiant smile, hopping off from my lap. I immediately miss her warmth.
She clears her throat before speaking again. “We should go. Aelfric will get mad if we’re not on schedule.”
I keep staring at the entrance long after she leaves the tent, feeling completely stupefied.
Worm?