Chapter 14 Svenn
Consciousness returns like surfacing from deep water.
The first thing I see is her.
Rhianelle lies beside me in the furs, silver hair spreading across the wolf pelts. Her breathing is steady but shallow. My chest constricts with guilt as I look at her.
Because she's covered in marks.
Bites along her throat and shoulders. Bruises on her hips in the shape of my fingers. Her lips swollen and her skin flushed. Evidence of my complete loss of control is painted across every inch of her pale flesh.
The eclipse broke my carefully constructed chains.
I recall fragments of what happened. The bond surging free, the hunt through the tunnels, and the claiming.
I had lost myself completely in the need to possess her.
I remember the taste of her skin, the sound of her cries, the way she felt beneath me, around me.
I gave myself over to that hunger completely.
My hand trembles as I reach toward her. I stop just short of touching. I flex my fingers and hate that I remember how she felt beneath them.
I've ravaged her, used her, marked her like some goddamn beast.
“Rhianelle.” Her name comes out hoarse. I force myself to look at her face instead of the marks.
"Did I hurt you?" I'm fucking terrified of the answer to my own question.
Her eyes flutter open, those impossible lilac irises finding mine immediately. Instead of the fear or disgust I expect, she smiles.
"You're back," she says softly, and her hand comes up to touch my face gently.
"Rhianelle, what I did to you—"
“You made me yours,” she interrupts, her hand sliding up to cradle my jaw. “Just like I wanted.”
Her voice is raspy from screaming my name.
"I could have hurt you." I fucking did. "You can barely move."
"I'm tired, not broken." She cups my face with both hands, forcing me to meet her eyes. "I'm not some fragile flower, Svenn."
But she winces when she tries to shift position. I can see how her legs tremble with exhaustion. The bond inside me purrs with satisfaction at the visible proof of our claiming. But the rest of me wants to gather her up and spend the next century making amends.
"Let me take care of you," I say, needing to do something, to atone for my loss of control. "Please."
Rhianelle nods and I gather her carefully into my arms. She's so light, so trusting as she rests her head against my chest.
The den has a natural hot spring in the back chamber.
The wolves who once claimed this territory valued it for the healing properties of the water.
It's one of the reasons Red chose this place to imprison me.
I had not been enthusiastic about the suggestion when he made it.
But Shade's counter-offer had been a stable beside a pig sty.
Steam rises from the carved stone basin. The water is kept perpetually warm by the geothermal springs deep beneath the mountain. I test the temperature with my hand before lowering her in.
She sighs as the heat envelops her. I watch the tension slowly bleed from her muscles. "This is perfect," she murmurs, eyes already drifting closed.
I climb in behind her, settling so she can lean back against my chest. For a long moment I just hold her, feeling her breathe and counting her heartbeats. I reassure myself over and over that she's alive and whole despite my best efforts to break her.
I wash her with all the tenderness I failed to show earlier, letting the warm spring water cascade over her skin.
My hands move slowly as they glide over the marks I made in mindless passion.
Each bruise is a testament to my lack of control.
Each bite mark a reminder of the beast I became.
I memorize every single one of them. She makes soft sounds of contentment as I work.
"I was terrified," I admit quietly as I work the warm spring water through her tangled silver hair. "When I felt the bond break free. All I could think was that I was going to hurt you."
"You didn't," she mumbles, so trusting it hurts.
“I might have.” My hands remain gentle as I smooth warm water over her shoulders. “If you hadn’t been strong enough to handle it—”
"But I was." Her hand finds mine under the water, squeezing with what little strength she has left. "I am. That's what matters, Svenn. Even when the bond had complete control, you kept me safe. That's who you are."
I want to argue but she's falling asleep in the warm water, exhausted beyond measure. I don't want to disturb her fragile peace.
When I wash between her legs, she hisses slightly and I curse myself again. The bond stirs inside me, disgruntled as I rinse away the traces of us from her.
The fuck are you doing? It growls.
I ignore the primal urge and continue cleaning her gently.
Yes, she chose to accept the bond fully. But that doesn't mean I let him run completely wild without any restraint. She deserves better than a mate who can't control his own instincts.
Her hand slides sleepily between her legs, touching herself with unconscious need.
"Still?" I ask.
"I can't help it," she whispers without opening her eyes.
The bond purrs satisfaction. I push it down quickly. She needs rest but I can give her this much. I let my fingers replace hers, touching her and finding the rhythm I know she needs.
She comes apart quickly, a soft cry that's more relief than passion. Finally, she goes truly limp in my arms.
"Svenn," she calls softly, my name a whisper in her sleep.
"I'm here, little fawn," I murmur against her damp hair.
I finish bathing her in reverent silence and lift her carefully from the water. She's boneless now, barely conscious as I dry her with the softest furs I can find. Her trust in me is absolute even after everything. The weight of that faith is almost more than I can bear.
I carry her back to the main chamber and ease her on the bed, pulling furs over her trembling form. She immediately curls into me, one hand clinging like she's afraid I'll leave.
As if I could ever leave her after what we just shared. Rhianelle looked at the very worst of me and chose to stay anyway.
I hold her while she sleeps, unable to look away from her peaceful face. The bond is quiet and sated now rather than raging against its chains. It's part of me now instead of something I have to constantly fight.
Rhianelle did that.
She accepted it, welcomed it, chose to face it head-on rather than let me keep it locked away forever.
How does she do this? How does she see the darkest parts of me and find them worth loving?
I don't understand it. But I'm grateful beyond words.
The eclipse's red light has faded completely now, leaving only normal moonlight streaming through the cave entrance. Dawn must be approaching.
A soft sound draws my attention. Rhianelle is stirring, not quite awake but no longer deeply asleep. Her face scrunches with worry. She makes a small, distressed noise that goes straight to my heart.
I move immediately to gather her against me. "Shh, little fawn. You're safe."
Her eyes open fully, focusing on me with visible effort. The worry doesn't leave her expression. "Did the warnings go through?"
"All delivered." I stroke her hair soothingly. "Coinneach found Aelfric and Garrett as soon as I sent him. Your war generals know everything you learned. The capital is fortifying the walls. Volundr is preparing their harbor defenses. The intelligence you gathered will save thousands of lives."
"But people will still die." Her voice breaks slightly. "Because I'm not strong enough to stop this war."
"This war isn't your fault, Rhianelle." I turn her face to look at me. "You're not responsible for Eirik's madness or the Aeonian's ambition or any of this. You did more than anyone could have asked. You risked your life to get that intelligence."
"We don't have enough allies," she whispers, and I can hear the weight of the world in those words.
It's true.
"We have each other." I pull her closer, needing to feel her heartbeat against mine. "That counts for more than you think."
Her hand finds mine, gripping tightly. "They're going to attack soon, aren't they?"
"Yes."
She swallows hard and I can see her mind working through the logistics of war.
"Kheirall and Ragnar might have let me escape, but one of the fae commanders saw my face." She won't meet my eyes. "They know I was there and they know we have intelligence about their plans. What if they advance their timeline or change targets entirely? All that intelligence could be worthless."
The weight of that possibility is crushing. She risked everything for information that might already be obsolete. If she would only let me see the bastard’s face, I could mark him. My beasts would hunt. Though it would change nothing. By now he has surely carried word to the Fae king.
"Armies that size don't pivot easily," I say into the top of her head. "The seadragons are already positioned at Volundr. Shifting them north would take weeks—weeks they don't have if they want to use the eclipse's effects."
"Can we win?" The question is small and afraid. It breaks my fucking heart.
I consider lying, offering false comfort. But she deserves truth.
"Eirik has been planning this for a long time." I press my lips to her temple. "The alliances he's built, the forces he's gathered are massive. But we have a chance now. Because of you."
She closes her eyes and I can see her trying to hold back tears. They come slowly, tracking down her face.
"What is it?" I ask.
She shakes her head and keeps crying, small, exhausted tears.
"I lost my wedding ring."
The admission comes out broken and ashamed. For a moment I can only stare at her. I catch her shaking hands in mine and still them. She won’t look at me.
I can't help it. I chuckle.
“No,” I murmur, brushing my forehead to hers. “You didn’t lose it.”
Her eyes snap open in confusion. "What?"
"I took it. This morning before the eclipse, I had Coinneach bring it to me while you were still sleeping."
"But... why?"
"Rhianelle, that ring was made of forest vines." I cup her face. "It's so fragile that one wrong move would crumble it to dust."
"You threw it away?" Her voice trembles.
"I made something to protect it." I hate moving away from her but I cross to the small table where I left my work and bring the case back to her. "I finished it this morning, just before the eclipse took me."
"Open it," I say.
Her hands shake as she works the mechanism. The case opens smoothly. Preserved behind enchanted glass and fitted into a shell of worked metal sits our wedding ring. The vines intact. Every knot exactly as I tied them on that night.
"You can wear the casing itself as a ring," I tell her, watching every shift of her expression. "It's fitted to your finger. The vines stay protected inside. I wanted you to have something that would last."
Tears stream down her face. I reach up to wipe them away with my thumbs.
"Svenn..." Her voice breaks on my name.
"It's probably ridiculous—"
She kisses me and I swear the world stands still. All the fear and relief of the last three days pour through her and into me. When she pulls back her tears are still falling.
"Thank you," she whispers against my lips. "It's perfect. You're perfect."
"I'm not." My hand closes over hers where the ring rests. "But I'm yours. All of me."
"And I'm yours," she agrees, slipping the case onto her finger. "Forever."
The ring fits perfectly.
"Just stay with me," she whispers, exhaustion pulling at her again.
I settle beside her properly, pulling her against my chest.
"I'm not going anywhere," I promise, and mean it with everything I am.
We hold each other as dawn breaks outside the cave, moonlight giving way to pale morning sun. The Calanmai festival will end today. Eirik Bloodhound's armies will march soon after.
War is coming. The world we know is about to burn.
Let them come.
They'll learn what happens when someone threatens what's mine.