Chapter 31
Njall
Never in my life had I met a woman as enticing and, at the same time, infuriating as Elva.
She had bedded me, robbed me, and then bedded my brother.
She had wanted to kill me after I turned her in to my father, then risked everything to save me.
Yet now, because of one thoughtless remark, she refused even to speak with me.
I knew complicated women before, but it was as if Elva had two people inside her.
Hesitant to say anything else that might get me in trouble, I stood beside Acorn in silence and watched Elva studying a cold firepit we'd found.
She must have suspected it had been her brother's handiwork.
From the looks of the regrowth around the site, I figured it was too old, but I would not argue with her.
Elva stood up, brushing her hands together before setting them on her hips.
As if moving on their own accord, my eyes drifted to her delicious curves.
Her linen pants were loose on her legs, and her tunic hung low on her collarbone, being pulled down ever so slightly by her dagger sheath.
Her hair was down and so mixed that it looked turquoise in the light rather than individual parts of blue and green.
Even with a frustrated scowl on her face, she was gorgeous.
I grew up as the unwanted prince, but that title still brought me women with little effort.
With Elva, it was different. Winning her over would take all the effort I could muster, and possibly more.
I wondered what Baldr did to win her over so easily.
Likely, he was no more charming than I was at the bar, but then again, he hadn't had her arrested and almost turned into a sex slave by our father. That’s going to take a lot to overcome, but I do enjoy a challenge.
Elva exhaled loudly enough that I heard it from several paces away. She whipped around and crossed her arms. “It’s not this one.”
“You’re certain?”
Her scowl deepened as she stepped closer to me. “I am, and next time, don’t let me waste my time if you see something I don’t.”
“I didn’t think you’d believe me,” I replied, patting Acorn and trying to decide how to handle this.
“If you saw something real, I would. Opinions are not facts.”
“Clearly.”
“What did you see?” she pressed.
I nodded toward a log near the fire pit.
“The log?” Elva kicked it, and the entire thing broke apart.
“If anyone had sat on it recently, it would have been a pile of splinters.”
“They could have sat on the other one.” Elva prodded the fragments with her boot.
“Too small,” I replied, and she huffed.
“Fine. You’re right. Let’s go.”
Elva took her mule's reins but stood there, scratching the animal behind the ears before glancing at me. Her expression was a battle of emotions, and I fought the urge to smile—it would only anger her. After a long minute, I put her out of her misery and ended the silence.
“Would you rather go east or south?”
She looked at the surrounding forest. “South, I think.”
The rest of the day brought us to three more campsites, but none of them showed any sign of her brothers ever being there.
One was too old, one was used by a much larger group, and one had been used by women, or some female creature, judging by the hairs we found.
I couldn’t be sure, but Elva’s siren was.
By sundown, we set camp. With how distraught Elva was becoming, I left her to prepare food while I fetched the wood, water, and tended to the horses. When I’d joined her, she sat with knees drawn to her chin, staring into the flames as ash danced in the air.
Outside of my mother, when I was very young, I’d never lost anyone I cared about. Granted, I only cared about a precious few—Baldr, and maybe Hulda on a good day. I didn’t know what to say or how to comfort her. A joke? Words of support? Maybe I'll just make her something to eat.
Elva shivered beside me, so I fetched our shared blanket. Without a word, I shuffled up to her and wrapped the blanket around us. She jerked and seemed to come out of a trance, and pulled away from me.
“Elva, you’re freezing—”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are.” I put my hand on her arm and shivered.
“I don’t feel it,” she said, pulling away from me. “Sirens can tolerate the cold.”
“Tolerate, maybe, but you’re shivering.” I returned the blanket to her shoulders. She rolled her eyes and went back to watching the fire, but left the blanket in its place.
“Thank you,” she said so softly I almost didn’t catch it.
After two days, we’d traveled south enough that we were nearing the Bloot River again as it curved away from the Crimson Mountains and turned toward the mermaid and siren territories.
I’d spent time with my father’s men hunting deer, boar, and other animals for food, but never had to track sirens across the wilderness.
As we discovered more campsites and no sign of them, she was becoming short-tempered and snappy with me.
While it got on my nerves, I bit back the urge to fight with her.
The fear she was contending with was enough torture for her.
By mid-afternoon, we found ourselves on the edge of an unusual-looking part of the Zverm Forest. I couldn’t tell if it was the Bloot River that gave this part an ominous feeling or the darker hue that all the plants here seemed to take on.
I was so busy studying the strange colors of the plants that I didn’t notice Elva vanish.
Calling her name, I waited ages before she replied.
She'd discovered a narrow path, overgrown with vines and ivy, and it led through a patch of old-growth trees and bushes into a small clearing.
A few large stumps, each large enough to seat two people, were set up around a fire pit.
There was even a stack of wood off to the side.
Whoever had been here must have left in a hurry.
They wouldn't have gathered all that wood just for fun.
Elva sensed something that I didn’t and leaped from her mule, running the instant her feet touched the ground.
I secured our animals on a low tree branch before hurrying after her.
When I caught up, she was standing in the middle of the camp, and her fingers were transformed—the nails extended out much longer than normal.
Her breathing was loud enough that I could hear it from across the fire area; the earthy scent of the forest was overpowered by the sharp tang of copper and sea salt.
Is that blood? I didn't dare ask. Her breaths grew ragged as I cautiously approached her to find a large puddle of blood at her feet.
She turned toward me, and her eyes had gone dark—another warning sign to tread lightly.
But when I glanced ahead, I knew we were in trouble.
Stepping over the blood, I found a large patch of dirt that had been disturbed and scattered, more recently than the storm.
Lying at the end of the area was a piece of fabric that had belonged to one of my favorite shirts, one that Elva had stolen.
I turned toward her and held it out, expecting her to take it. But tears welled up in her eyes, and she shook her head at me.
“No,” she muttered before her hands flew into her hair.
I couldn’t tell if she was trying to stop her shaking or pull her hair out, but either way, it looked painful.
Her talons dug into her scalp, drawing blood that trickled down her cheek.
Then came the wail. It was a sound unlike anything I'd ever heard in my life. The closest sound I could think of was the shriek of a fox we’d once caught in a trap.
My heart ached for her, but we didn't know if it was her brothers’ blood or someone else’s.
Her cries were getting louder, and as they echoed through the surrounding trees, an icy chill ran down my spine.
The forest seemed to watch us, and I realized just how vulnerable we were.
Thanks to Ingvar, I was used to being watched and stalked by a werewolf, but this felt worse.
Without thinking, I grabbed Elva’s arms and forced her to look at me. “Elva, you need to stop screaming.” She hissed at me, and I repeated. “Be quiet.”
That was not the right thing to say. Her black eyes locked onto mine, and a growl rumbled from her throat. I’d fought Ingvar mid-shift before, and I had no desire to do the same with Elva in the middle of the woods, far away from any sort of help. Still, I wouldn't let go.
Elva wrenched her wrists free and shoved me back.
I stumbled back a step before I caught myself.
Her anger was now fixed on me. She lunged, and before I could brace myself, we both crashed to the ground.
All the air left my lungs as I hit the earth, and the angry siren landed on top of me, her talons barely missing piercing my shoulder.
When she placed her palm against her forehead, I saw my chance and flipped her off me.
I straddled her and pinned her wrists to the ground beside her head.
“Let me up,” she screamed at me.
I closed my eyes and willed my patience to stay strong before I leaned down over her so our faces were close enough to share breath. “I’ll let you up as soon as you calm down and stay quiet.”
The siren hissed and snarled beneath me, but I must have positioned myself perfectly because despite all her kicking and bucking, she couldn’t move me.
Elva tried a few more times, even going so far as trying to twist her neck so she could bite the arm holding her down, but she couldn’t reach.
Sharp breaths escaped her between pants and frustrated screams until she finally settled and didn’t move.
Thinking she'd finally surrendered, I loosened my grip, but I’d fallen for her plan as she twisted her wrist free and punched me in the face. I barely got my hand to my face when she knocked me off of her, reversing our positions. Now straddling me, she pinned my arms down beside my head.
It shouldn’t have happened, but seeing her above me brought back the memory of our night together, and I felt myself grow hard.
This is not the time for that. The siren noticed—of course she did—and a knowing smirk tugged at the corners of her lips.
She leaned over me, her body grinding against me with a slowness that left no doubt of her intentions.
A moan escaped me as she leaned down and kissed me.
Heat exploded through me as if I’d been tossed into a boiling pot.
I couldn’t tell if it was coming from me or the siren sitting atop me, but I wasn’t going to question it.
Her lips devoured mine as my hands slid up her waist to anchor her in place.
I felt a sting of pain when she bit my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
A deep, guttural groan rumbled from my chest, and the siren laughed, a low, wicked sound that was unsettling.
She released my lip and sat up to look down at me, her mouth smeared with my blood.
She brushed her plump lips with her thumb, then glanced at her glistening thumb for just a second before flicking her tongue out to lick up my blood.
This woman will be the end of me.
Sitting up slightly, I moved to cup her face when a chuckle echoed from the trees behind us.