Chapter 38 Svenn
Red was not lying when he said the land beyond the veil is no fairytale. There is no remarkable sight that was different from what I’ve seen in the human world. The town we passed by was quiet and nearly empty. Even this castle itself looks like it has seen too many attempted sieges.
My new prison is located on the highest section of this ivory tower. Strategic to protect the Elven Queen and to keep me contained.
No doubt it’s Eyepatch’s idea.
He made it certain that we’re given two separate rooms, in separate wings. The very notion of keeping me here is laughable. I remain unimpressed with the queen’s choice of knights and the lack of security.
The sky roars and rages with the hint of an upcoming storm. I stare out the window and think of Rhianelle.
It’s just a little worm.
If the curse infesting the armor is a maggot, then Rhunhraefn is a serpent. And yet the girl is holding on, resisting Lilith’s temptation. No one has ever been strong enough to do it.
Her immunity is baffling.
The only plausible explanation I can think of is that the damn thing has weakened over time. Curses usually grow stronger after years of hibernation. Perhaps the opposite has happened.
My mind wanders back to the night Rhianelle released me from my prison. The weight of my chains was too heavy, the shadows were pulling me back to my desolation. Despite the dangers and her fear, she stayed with me.
I didn’t understand the Elven language then. But the sweet girl was telling me, “I’m not leaving you.”
Rhianelle Wiolant is kind. A good person through and through.
I wonder how long it would take for the curse to corrupt her even in its enfeebled state. A week? A month? Perhaps a year? When it gathers enough strength, the Rhunhraefn will consume the Elven Queen. My heart sinks at the very thought.
If only Rhianelle Wiolant didn’t stumble into my prison, she could have led her beautiful life peacefully. Now she is trapped in this as much as I am. In a way, I have stolen and condemned her life.
Damn it all.
I am filled with the sudden need to save her from this fate. I pace the room like a lion in its pen. A human trait that has never washed out despite thousands of years. She’s been gone for too long. What if in all that time she has fallen for the curse?
The rusty lock behind me clicks.
Maybe it will be Lilith who opens the door. My body goes rigid the moment she enters the room.
“Svenn.” She greets me with a small uncertain smile. The coiled tension in my muscles eases at the sight of it. Her tiny figure is hunched like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. I know I added to some of that burden.
“Are you comfortable here? Your room is smaller than mine,” she says, her eyes sweeping my chamber.
She’s a terrible jailer.
“The room is fine. Is everything all right?” I ask her.
She merely nods at my question. “You said you wanted to talk.”
“It can wait,” I say. Whatever she’s been through for the past few days is clearly wearing her down.
“I’m going to take a bath.” Her cheeks flush the moment she announces that. “I’ll come again and see you afterward.”
She leaves but her scent lingers in the air like a wicked calling. A visceral need rages, begging for me to follow it. I can hardly fight the bond, I’m not even sure I want to.
I saunter down the dark hallway leading to her room. There are no sentries, no precaution whatsoever. Even the door is unlocked. I halt over the passage to the bath chamber for a long moment. Just a few steps down this path and I can see her again. What would I even say about the intrusion?
Someone is coming.
I turn and snarl at the visitors. Two young elven maidens are standing stiff at the entrance. One of them has a basket in her hand.
“It’s for the queen,” the taller one says with a tremble. Years of isolation make me fail to switch off the intimidation.
“I’ll deliver it for her,” I say smoothly, taking the basket.
“You will?” the other one asks, taking a step closer. Their shift from fear to curiosity and attraction is instantaneous.
I take no pride in it. Everything about me is designed to lure prey. They should be running. The elves are lucky tonight. Not a hint of thirst rises to my throat.
I immediately shut the door and bite down a smile. Thank the devil for granting me this excuse to visit Rhianelle. I venture down the narrow egress leading to the bath and knock on the hardwood hatch.
“You may enter.” I hear her say.
Everything inside is made entirely from green crystals, from the walls to the pool. The room and the world fade the moment I glimpse the girl, half-immersed at the centre.
I draw in a breath at the sight of her.
Droplets trickle from her silver hair down to the smooth, creamy skin of her breast. My eyes roam over every curve and slope of her naked skin. I can’t look away from the stunning sight. It’s like I’m trapped in a strange spell.
Rhianelle is a goddamn masterpiece. I’m torturing myself with the view at this point.
She is playing with the flowers I gifted, floating them in the steaming waters. A small surprised smile graces her face at my presence. She makes a move to cover her exposed half with a towel. The faint red on her cheeks is visible in the soft light.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen,” I say, planting the basket close to the pool. “Your handmaidens brought you these.”
“Thank you, Svenn.” Her soft voice carries in the wafting chamber. She makes the ugliest of names bearable to my ears. The girl forgoes the attempt to hide her body and it takes everything in me not to lunge at her.
A mixture of heat and fascination crosses her face over my staring. I must look like a creep for intruding on her like this. I almost leave when she suddenly speaks, her gaze never leaving mine.
“Stay.”
No one can ever stare into my eyes for too long, not my enemies, not my brothers, not even the past curse bearers or Lilith. I know I haven’t lost my touch because even Kheirall and the elven guards found a way to break contact in the end.
If eyes are a window to a person’s soul, then mine is a gateway to hell. Rhianelle holds my gaze without flinching.
Brave little fawn.
One of her flowers floats in my direction.
“Push it back to me,” she says and so I do. Too bad it sinks before reaching her.
“That’s not how you do it,” she says, giggling a little. The carefree sound is warming a place in me I never knew existed. I’m tempted to play along and join her in the pool, but I stay near the edge. My control is stretched thin as it is.
“Teach me then,” I request. It’s not like I care about the art of floating petals, but I just really love the sound of her voice. Her small, lithe form moves in the water to be near me. No doubt it’s the bond taking effect.
“You have to spin it before you push it,” she instructs, twirling the rosebud in her hand. I feign as much interest as I can when all I want to do is pin her to the nearest surface and lick those pebbled nipples.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the movement sending her scent floating to my nostrils— desire grips me once again. Memories of that night come rushing in rapid waves. The depraved monster beneath my skin struggles to break free from its binding. My fangs grow and my claws lengthen.
Stop this. Shit—
I grunt to smother this impulsive need to touch her, to ruin her again. I’m salivating like a savage beast, ready to devour her. It’s insane how I’m reduced to this primal instinct with just her simple presence.
Rhianelle watches my hideous partial shift.
Run, little fawn.
Or don’t. That might be worse.
I might chase.
I punch the hardened marble and bury my claws deep to keep myself rooted in place. Rhianelle sidles closer to me instead of running. She touches my morphed hand softly. Her gaze is completely pure and innocent. “Calm down. It’s all right, Svenn.”
The terrible beast inside me who has brought down kingdoms to their knees, killed without hesitation, starts to purr.
They fucking purr at her. Like a murderous kitten.
“The curse must have shown you the abomination that makes up what I am.” My throat constricts at my admission.
Understanding fills her lilac eyes.
“Yes, I’ve seen the ritual. Hundreds of beautiful creatures sacrificed for the curse,” she says in a shaky exhale.
Beautiful?
No wonder they’re so eager to rise to her defense.
“Do I not frighten you, Queen of Elves?” I ask evenly.
Those extraordinary irises glint in the dim light.
“Sometimes it seems that you’re more afraid of me,” she answers with a resigned smile.
“That’s natural. Given what you can do to me,” I reply, my gaze falling over the Rhunhraefn.
“I will never hurt you,” she says softly. And I know it in my cold heart, she truly means that. It sickens me knowing that this sweet and kind person will soon disappear.
“It doesn’t matter,” I heave with a harsh breath. “The curse will alter you into something cruel. Like it did to me this morning.”
Rhianelle is listening to me raptly, but her gaze occasionally falls to my groin. My raging erection is pretty damn obvious now as I slowly shift into my mortal form. I slide into the water.
“I’ve had an elven mage for a master before. You might have heard of her in your legends, Darya the Huntress?” I quirk an eyebrow.
She shakes her head.
“The elf was one of the worst. She made us pull a single rib and present the bone to her every sunrise,” I say, and the girl visibly flinches at the horror.
I can feel the Rhunhraefn’s oppressive power as if it knows I’m talking about it. But Rhianelle’s face remains unbothered.
“Has the curse ever tried to control you?”
“All the time.”
I shudder at the reply.
“But I shove them in a box,” she quickly adds.
There she goes again. I don’t understand half of the things she says and I’m not sure if it’s the pendant’s fault. “You mentioned a worm before?”
“I know a thing or two about purging dark spells,” she replies in a low whisper. “Curses are like worms in their true form.”
Her light, childish take on the whole thing makes me wary again. The girl hasn’t fully grasped the situation. I wade the waters, bridging the gap between us.
“The curse on you is the Rhunhraefn, the primordial of curses, the culmination of the vilest of dark magic. It’s not a mere worm, Rhianelle.
It’s a serpent, constantly coiling around your consciousness.
” I lean closer to her, our breaths mingling.
“It consumes its wielder. Most curse bearers died within three years.”
It comes out sharper than I intended. But she needs to understand that there is no escape for either of us. We’re both set on a path to damnation.
She stares at me for a long moment. The depth in her lilac eyes threatens to swallow me into their abyss.
“Perhaps it is fate that the curse has fallen on me,” she says against the loud thunderhead and rain around us. “I’m the best person to contain it.”
Doesn’t she know every last one of them will eventually fall? She lifts her hand to touch me. My body instinctively backs away.
Hurt flashes across her face. “I’m not going to use the curse on you, Svenn.”
My frozen heart rattles inside its cage. I want to believe her. I would have believed her if Lilith hadn’t filleted my soul so completely and thoroughly.
“Rhianelle…” The words stall in my throat.
“This evening you said I get a wish,” she whispers in the dim light. “Give me a chance.”
The tremble in her voice burns me. I have been most unkind to her. She keeps her hand raised, reaching out to me.
“We shall see.” I manage to grit out, but I can’t bring myself to take her extended hand. I back away, swiftly removing myself from the water.
“Svenn.”
She calls for me the moment I almost step out of the doorway. I glance over my shoulder and meet her gaze.
“When we get to Aelfheim, I’ll look for a way to unravel the Rhunhraefn,” she says with a bright smile.
What? The girl does that thing again where she blinks her eyes. I think it’s supposed to be a wink.
“I swear it,” she promises brightly.
Fucking hell.
Rhianelle isn’t just convinced she can resist the curse; she plans to break it. This tiny elf who is scared of spiders and shadows believes she can defeat Lilith and the Rhunhraefn. I don’t know where she manages to fish out that kind of confidence.
“I promise I’ll honor our vows. I’ll break the curse and find a way to make you human again,” she says, touching the Arawynn tattoo on her wrist. “If that is still something you desire.”
“It is.” I hate the vulnerability in my voice.
“Then it’s done,” she says simply. The promise is so sincere that my heart feels like it might burst. There’s a bit of arrogance in her words too, as if the curse is nothing to her. I can’t get a word out of my mouth to reply.
“But what do you get in return?” I finally ask. My skepticism ruins her optimism once again.
She raises a finger in deep thought. The pause takes a long while. It’s almost as if she didn’t plan to want anything in exchange.
“Keep pretending that the Wiolants have your loyalty,” she finally says.
An onslaught of emotions takes hold of me. A mad part of me wants to go crush my lips to hers, the other cowardly part wants to run away and hide.
“You have no reason to trust me,” she says, her voice echoing in the bath chamber. “Some of the curse bearers toyed with you for years with the promise of freedom. I understand you’re afraid I may pass the curse to someone else when my time is up.”
That is the inevitable fate set for us.
“Give me a year—no, six months to unravel the curse or my life is forfeit.”
The shock that filters through my veins nearly paralyzes me. She even set a timeline. Goddamn it.
“The books and libraries will be there waiting for me in Aelfheim. Right now, I need to focus on my friend,” she continues when I say nothing.
I regard her for a moment, Red’s warning echoing in my mind.
Do not underestimate my queen.
“I’ll help you. You have my word.” Her smile is like a ray of light shining through the darkest night.
Just like that, she gives me something I never thought I would have again after years of darkness.
Hope.
It’s a dangerous thing to hold on to.
I keep telling myself it makes no difference once the Rhunhraefn regains its strength and corrupts her. I will be spending an eternity in torment.
But the little seed of light she planted has taken root inside me. My damned heart begins to soften at her determination.
It scares the hell out of me and I start running.