3. Chapter 2 Svenn
Chapter 2 Svenn
T he world remains a cesspit from where I left it.
It is still rotten to the core even as I cross the veil into this realm. If I am a blissful, carefree soul like Han, I might enjoy this new place. If I am an idealistic bastard like Vlad, I may wish to reform it. I find myself most similar to Bas, seeking knowledge, except I lack his optimism or the will to contribute to a better world.
Why bother when I wish to have no part in it?
By the end of the first century, life had gone stale and devoid of warmth. I want an end, an eternal rest from my damnation. The gods cast their dice and played me for a fool when they tossed me into this world once again.
Two elven guards appraise me as I saunter towards the rooftop of the keep. Dread enters their faces, their hands dropping to the pommel of their swords instinctively.
They are wise to be afraid.
I ignore them the way I ignored the group of sentries who simply ran the other way earlier.
I lean against the stone balustrade lining the flat roof. The spot offers a perfect view of the garden courtyard below. Nothing in this brilliant new place manages to grasp my interest, except for the person behind the wooden double door. My gaze is trained on the barricade, anticipating her arrival.
Every monster in me is clawing to the surface for a glimpse of the girl.
Rhianelle is a creature of sunlight, spring, and warmth. Something like us will only drag her to our hell and never return. One of them snarls at the others to behave.
They all calm down at the sudden admonishment. Their genuine adoration for her catches me off guard.
These beasts roaming in my head are the creatures that were sacrificed to make the Rhunhraefn. They reside within the Strigons as spirits. It took us years to control these dangerous beings and harness their power. Some never relinquish their abilities for us to use.
I recall a time when Lilith ordered Ruth to burn all the children in town. My brother failed to abide by her wish because one of the Aos Sí rebelled. The pixie spirit kept on screeching in his ears until he stopped. It nearly drove Ruth insane.
It surprises me the way all of them are attracted to the girl. The door creaks open and the hammering in my chest grows louder. The moment Rhianelle walks out, I drink in the sight of her like a starved beast. Her posture is regal, and her stride is hypnotic as she moves across the marbled courtyard. She looks so sweet. So goddamn edible. It stirs something deep and primal within me.
I should stay away from her. A wretched thing like me would only eclipse her light. Yet, I can’t.
I lied to her this morning.
The bond’s wicked pull has only gotten worse for me. This constant desire to be near her, to have her in my arms is unbearable. It’s absurd. I can sense myself giving in to the urge, little by little.
I keep watching her silently.
There’s something inexplicably sad in the way she carries herself to walk so prim and proper. She’s good at putting up a show. But maintaining this perfect version must be painful.
The beasts’ attraction to her is not the only thing that is baffling me. Rhianelle somehow remains uncorrupted after over a week of carrying the Rhunhraefn. I’m certain the curse has tempted her with unimaginable power. And yet there she is, trotting around completely untainted.
What made you the way you are, little fawn?
At first glance, Rhianelle may seem like an open book. The longer I stay with her, the more I realize the book is written in a strange language I do not understand, something not even Kheirall’s necklace could translate.
But I screwed up so fucking badly. Now she doesn’t trust me anymore.
Rightfully so.
I tried to break her, kill her.
Every once in a while, Rhianelle looks over her shoulder and rubs her neck, as if she knows I’m watching her.
Good instinct, little fawn.
Some dark-haired bastard approaches the Elf Queen to greet her.
A violent volcano erupts in my gut. The surge of heat makes my canines ache, wanting to rip the male’s throat. My hands twitch instinctively, the claws elongating.
That is fucking mine, the territorial beast in me snarls.
I bury my claws in the wall to physically to restrain myself from pulling her away from him.
“Avalon in the south is our enemy. The dwarves in the north hate us, and now we’re waging war with the Orc Tribes in Myrkheim.” I register his presence before I hear the sound of his light footsteps approaching me. “Enemies are circling us in every corner. My poor queen can’t catch a break.”
Red.
One of the most annoying fuckers I’ve met by far.
The knight is encased in a pristine stygian armor, his long blonde hair covered with a crimson hood. He settles beside me comfortably. Keeping my temper leashed will be a challenge today.
‘She was in my bedroom last week.’
His words coil into my ears like a slithering snake. I’ve wanted to rip his gut open ever since. The unpleasant feeling in my chest did not ease despite his confession that she was there to kill him. Rhianelle stabbed my chest repeatedly in the forest and fucked me madly the same night.
“That is Commander Haldan,” Red says with a smile. “Everything about him screams sheer perfection, doesn’t it?”
“Rumor has it, even the queen has a crush on him,” he continues whispering his poison in my ear. The beast in me falls for his bait easily. Before I know it, I’m growling underneath my breath. It seems that this knight has made it his life’s mission to get on my nerves.
“Haldan was betrothed to her sister. Some say he was mated to Aerin.”
I tune out Red’s commentary, focussing my attention on Rhianelle. But the male elf says something to make her smile and I have to look away.
“His mate is dead. It would be kinder if he had died too,” Red says with a dark amusement. The cold humor prompts me to lift my head to look him.
“Those people who died… It was you,” I mutter, acknowledging his presence.
Ninety-eight bodies.
There is truly a murderer on the loose in this small city, but half of the dead bodies are actually contributed by this guy.
Knight, my ass.
He has no business being near Nel.
“Caught that, did you?” he asks with a grin. His charm fails to camouflage the insanity in his eyes from me.
Red’s eyes simmer as they meet mine. “I only go after the Valorians, the ones with Order Scrolls from the Aeonians to spy on the queen.”
The guy doesn’t have to explain himself to me. I don’t fucking care. His kill count is only a drop compared to mine.
Does Rhianelle know that her golden retriever knight is a deadly serpent? Perhaps Nel has seen through his malicious nature. Yet, this sadistic killer still has a place with her. It gives me a twisted sense of hope for myself.
“I hope you can keep this a secret.” Red is still talking to me apparently. “They will accuse either Rainer’s Grimsbanes or you first before they come after me.”
He stares at me for a beat. “My method may be different from Aelfric and Darstan, but I am trying to protect the queen.”
“She’s not fit to be a queen,” I mutter in a single exhale. The musing is mostly to myself, but Red heard it all the same.
For a second the air turns cold. The male retains his calm fa?ade despite the clear intent in his eyes that he wants to slice my throat.
“What do you suppose makes a good one?” He sketches a brow. “Someone ruthless perhaps? A vicious queen who says something like ‘bring me his heart’ like the ones in your human fairytales?”
I scoff over his idiotic jest.
His hardened glare softens the moment he looks at Rhianelle. “Do not let the kindness fool you. When my queen wants it, she will have your heart.”
The depth of emotion in his eyes makes me realizehe cares for her. Naturally, that makes me want to kill him even more. But for some reason, I decide to spare his life.
For now.
And since Red is doing Rhianelle a favor by eliminating her enemies, I feel generous enough to share this with him. “Death follows you.”
“What?” His eyebrows lift. “And here I thought we’re starting to have normal conversation.”
A long apprehensive sigh leaves me. I make an effort to jerk my head eastward to the thick forest, to the pair of sapphire eyes staring back at us.
The creature perks its ears and lifts it muzzle over our attention. Behind the leaves and the trees stands a tall dog, wolfish build, with black fur and translucent eyes. Human superstition calls it a hallmark of death.
It’s been trailing us— no, him specifically.
“Is it an enemy?” the knight asks.
Who knows. It’s no concern of mine. The hound can maul and drag him away for all I care.
The killer will not harm Rhianelle in broad daylight. Her other knight, Eyepatch, is already moving toward her. I can’t stand the fucker. He kept giving me this look as if my mere existence offends him. Well, the feeling is entirely mutual.
I allow myself one last look at the elven queen before walking away.