Wregen #2
But then my body starts to give, the rocks around me shifting as that turnip creature heaves me out.
An image of Finaan naked slithers into my mind.
She’s laid out for my pleasure, her gentle snores trembling along with her flesh as I wring another orgasm from her.
She’s so fucking responsive in her sleep.
Just like she was in the water, when one caress of her cunt claimed her.
She gave herself to me faster than the wraiths drop to their knees when I pass.
Fuck, did I love the feel of her coming on my fingers, moans slipping out to echo around us.
I can’t die before my skjaldmaer willingly takes my cock.
So I hold on to the claws, grit my teeth, and let the beast drag me out, inch by agonizing inch.
It lasts a long gods-damned time, and my fury at Finaan grows with every bit of freedom. When my cock finally emerges from the stone tomb this cavern had prepared for me—crumpled in on itself, as if it’ll be a flabby blob forever—I turn toward her and let her see my rage.
The bitch smirks, her hands rising to rest on her hips as the dragon pulls the rest of me out. They set me on the ground and throw themself back into the air, while I collapse as if my legs are made of the pebbles I barely escaped.
“Give it a rest, Wregen,” she mutters. “You’re free, and you’ll heal.”
“I should not have sunk so deep,” I snarl, every word punching a hole in my chest as I force it out. “Your delay caused this.”
“I thought you liked pain,” she responds with a shrug. “You sure like to give it,” she adds with a glance up at Svend, still gallivanting about on the dragon, as if he belongs there.
“Get the fuck down here,” I bellow, before doubling over with coughs that blast their way from my chest, up my raw throat, and out.
Unholy Helheim, that hurts. I don’t ever want to do that shit again. And it wasn’t even worth the effort. Those useless bastards ignore me. The dragon even starts spiraling in the sky, the weasel and rat laughing the whole time. I scowl, planning my punishment, but too weak to do shit about it.
“Let’s go,” Finaan says, picking her way around the gravelly pit toward the other side. “We’ve been in this cavern too long,” she adds as she turns her head to throw one more smirk at me.
I’d chase her down and beat that ass black and blue if I thought I could run more than a few steps.
I should be able to walk—Hel willing—but it’ll be a long time before I can muster the strength for anything more.
Looking up, I wonder how severely Wrath would punish me if we rode the fucking dragon long enough to let our body heal.
But I can’t bring myself to ask them. They’d turn me down anyway.
Sighing, I push myself to my feet and plod along behind Finaan, desperate for the end of this gods-forsaken day so I can let this broken body—and my battered soul—rest.
It’s quiet when I wake up, a stillness in the cavern and inside me that’s soothing.
My instinct after centuries in Hel’s service is to revolt.
To replace the calm with anger and hate and the furor of her realm.
But I can’t. After everything that happened—on the heels of yesterday’s near-death and Wrath’s response to it—I need this reprieve like I need air to breathe.
I’ll be Hel’s elf again soon. For now, though, I’m the innocent boy who walked Midgard, alone and perpetually hungry, but hopeful that the gods might offer me something better. That I’d find a life worth living.
You can have that life, the accursed dragon whispers in my thoughts, their voice gentle and kind.
Sitting up, my stony gaze finds theirs. Stay the fuck out of my head.
Good morning to you, too, they respond with a dragony smirk. We want the same thing. You alone stand in the way.
My stomach churns, the peace of a moment ago replaced as I recall who I am.
So I reclaim the monster I became, and always will be.
We do not want the same thing, I bark. I will speak with you when I must. Only then.
Shoving them out, I slam the door I’d somehow left open between my mind and theirs and flop down again.
We must kill them, Wrath snarls, claiming enough of our body to lift our head and glare at the dragon. You are mine alone.
We will, I assure him, when the time’s right.
Soon, he demands.
I don’t respond, loathe to start conversing with him as the purple beast tries to force their way into my head. The last thing I need is the two of them bickering in my mind while my skjaldmaer barks at all of us.
I set all that aside and push to my feet. It’s time to move. Helheim calls and we’ve delayed too long already.
We’ve walked half a day or more when I recognize the area we’re entering.
Dread starts to crawl up my spine. If Finaan is going to break away from me anywhere along this path, it’ll be here.
Not because of fear, or anger. No, if she leaves me, it will be because not even the bond with her dragon is strong enough to drag her away from this place.
And that turnip beast could take her and fly right out of here, leaving me to return to Hel with the weasel alone. What a pathetic prize that would be.
I notice the change in her as we draw closer. Her steps are lighter, as if its energy calls to her. It probably does. I belong more to Helheim than this place, but even I can feel its allure. The others are silent behind us, perhaps as entranced by the world ahead as I always am when I come here.
“Where are we?” she asks after a few minutes, curiosity forcing her to speak with me for the first time today.
“Do you remember your promise to your dragon, my skjaldmaer?” I ask instead of answering her question.
She turns her head, eyebrows drawn together as she gazes at me. “What does that have to do with anything?” she asks.
“It’s a simple question,” I push as I stride to Finaan’s side to walk with her. “What did you promise the dragon you treasure so much?”
“I didn’t promise her anything,” she tells me. “She asked me to stay with you and I agreed I would for a while. Nothing more.”
“She believes the turnip beast and I must accept our bond?” I prod.
“The turnip beast?” Finaan asks, trying to change the subject, I think. But I indulge her.
“I don’t care to speak their name,” I gripe. “They are the turnip beast. That’s what I’ll call them. Does your dragon believe the turnip beast and I must accept our bond?”
Finaan narrows her eyes, adorable little wrinkles appearing on her brow, as she leans away from me. “What are you getting at, Wregen?”
I don’t try to hold back my smile. It appears more often now, as I spend time with her. The first few pissed me off, but I’ve realized I don’t abhor the lightness she brings to me. I’m still Hel’s, but perhaps I can be Finaan’s too, when I’m with her.
If Hel will allow it.
“We’re about to pass into a place that will call to you.
It does to me, despite my lifetime of service to Hel.
The first time I saw it, I knew what it was to me.
It asked me to stay, begged me, but I’d only served Hel a few decades then.
It was easy to say no, return to my liege.
After that, I knew what to expect, lifted my shields to resist the draw. ”
Turning to her, I catch and hold her gaze.
“We may have different ideas of where this journey will end, my skjaldmaer, but we both know it won’t end here.
It can’t. So hold the image of your dragon in your mind and raise your shield, because you’re about to be tempted more than you’ve ever been before.
I’d rather not drag your ass out of here, kicking and screaming, but that’s exactly what I’ll do if I must.”
She grimaces at me, opening her mouth to respond with some smartass comment, but then we turn the corner. And she sees the view that will stay with her forever, as it has with me.