Page 67 of Night Meets the Elf Queen (The Elf Queen #4)

VALEEN

H el angled himself in front of Valeen as the wicked brothers who ruled this realm came into view. With the presence of their masters, the remaining demon hounds and other nameless creatures pulled back.

“I thought I smelled the gods,” said Servente, the tallest and most powerful of the pair.

His tall black horns curled out of his pure white hair, red eyes glowed in the strange blue light of this place.

His blue-gray skin had silver veins running up his bare arms. “We’ve had this discussion before.

The gods do not belong in our realm, most especially the ones who killed our brother. ”

“I was returning Morv’s ring.” Valeen gestured toward Varlett. If they didn’t notice her before, they did now. She stood half shadowed behind a rotting bush a few yards away. Several of the hounds still surrounded her. “As a peace offering. We want no more trouble with the lords of the underrealm.”

Servante appeared beside Varlett and gripped her jaw between his long, spindly fingers, then leaned down and ran his nose along her neck, inhaling deeply. She held utterly still, her eyes going wide. Then he lifted her hand with the ring. “A dragon bearing my brother’s ring,” he mused.

Sweat beaded under her arms. There was no telling by the prince’s body language if he was content with that or if he was angry. She inched backward, but Hel snatched her wrist. Do not move yet, he said.

The other demon prince, Lavix, went to Varlett’s opposite side, inspecting her from crown to toe. He curled a lock of her hair around his finger and smelled it. “She’s no longer a dragon, brother. She’s one of us.”

“So she is.” He turned his attention back to Valeen. “You did more than return Morv’s ring. You filled his place with a female.”

“She was in possession of it when Morv died. What happened after was not our doing. We didn’t even know that this was possible,” Valeen said.

Lavix hissed, bearing his serrated teeth. “You mean when you killed him. We know it was you, goddess of night. Now we have a blood feud.”

Servante nodded his agreement. “This cannot go unpunished.” The demons all around started to make low gurgling noises.

One of the hounds, the largest of them all, paced behind the brothers, waiting for the command to be let free and attack.

Its spiny backbones protruded grotesquely.

Its maw was full of rows of serrated teeth, dripping with green venom.

“Morv was there to kill my wife,” Hel snapped. “He’s dead because he was weak.” Squeals and howls from the hounds rose up all around them. They didn’t like hearing their master degraded.

Servante’s eyes narrowed at them both, and he clicked his forked tongue. “It is the way of things. Kill or be killed. I am disappointed my brother was bested by two half-gods. I can smell the mortal in you.”

A quiet rustle in the bushes caught her ear. Valeen snapped her head left, and swung Soulender, cutting the head from a creeping dark-green serpent. “Keep your beasts back, demon, or your brother won’t be the only prince of the underrealm to lose his life.”

“You dare threaten us in our domain?” Servante boomed. “You are foolish to bring an immortal weapon to our world, where it could so easily fall into your enemies’ hands, goddess.”

“And yet you haven’t tried to take it. You know that I may be part mortal, but my soul is as old as you are, and death will welcome you in his cold arms if you come near me.”

“Your sword skill is impressive, but I have other powers, Valeen. You went into the lake of sorrows.” He smiled, and it was hideous. “Your powers must be lacking.”

Hel tensed and inched closer to her, using himself as a shield. “We’ve returned the ring. Your realm has a leader to fill the vacancy. There doesn’t need to be a blood feud. End it now, and we will leave with no further killing.”

Varlett looked more smug than ever. She knew she held the power here in the everdark.

She may have wanted to leave when they walked into this place, but now, with her smile and proud stance between the brothers, she’d found her new home.

Found new males to latch onto to give her power.

It was always more, more, more, with her.

She’d probably turn the two of them against each other eventually.

“You will leave when I say,” Servante growled, crimson eyes flashing. “Didn’t you learn that the last time, pet? It took your mother’s begging to set you free all those years ago.”

Hel went utterly still for a moment, then the muscles in his back tensed. “What did you say?”

“You think I let you go without a reason? You still have those scars on your face to remember that day.” He gestured toward his own brow then chin, exactly where Hel was marked.

“My mother had nothing to do with it.” He still held the worry that Servante was his father. All Mother, what if it was true?

“She offered to take your place.”

“No.” Hel shook his head in disbelief. “No, that can’t be true.”

That would mean his mother had been trapped in the underrealm for thousands of years…

“Why not?” Servante purred.

“My mother left me. She didn’t love me enough to sacrifice her life for mine.”

Servante laughed. “Oh, naive, selfish boy. She did. What a lovely whore she became.”

Hel’s jaw muscles twitched. “Show her to me.”

“You’re in my world. You don’t get to make deman?—”

“Show her to me now!” Hel roared. “Or I swear I will cut off your fucking head with that immortal sword even if it costs me my life after.”

“Give me the immortal blade, and you can have her.”

“No.” Valeen gripped it tighter, bringing it closer to her body. As tragic of a story as it would be if Hel’s mother Zaelia was here, no demon could ever possess this sword, even she would agree with that.

“You are dealing with a very different god now.” Hel’s face hardened. “If my mother is your prisoner, you will let her go.”

He could be manipulating you.

You don’t know that.

He’s trying to get Soulender. He is the prince of deception. Even if he showed her to us, it could be an illusion.

How else would I have gone free, Valeen?

Valeen had no answer for that. If she is here, we will come back for her. When we are immortal.

Hel stared at her. A war was going on behind that beautiful face. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “You will not get Soulender,” Hel finally said. “And we’re leaving now.”

It wasn’t even a moment later that light shined through the darkness, and a beautiful goddess with black hair and luminescent alabaster skin came from behind a wide tree.

Valeen knew her, had seen her face on the wall of War’s old estate.

Her likeness had been in a portrait of her and her twin brother.

She wore a white gown, untouched by the darkness of this realm, but chains bound her ankles and wrists and connected around her neck.

“Zaelia, how lovely of you to join us,” Servante said, holding out his hand. “Come.” Her blue-green eyes darted between Hel and Servante. The chains clanked with each step, but she took his hand and held it. “Your son says you didn’t love him.”

“Zaurahel,” she said softly. The corner of her mouth curled, and a dimple appeared. She was the female version of Hel. It was almost uncanny how much he resembled her. “It’s good to see you… but you shouldn’t be here.”

This felt all wrong. If Hel’s mother had spent so much time here, she wouldn’t appear radiant and lovely. There would be signs of the evil of this place in her countenance. “Hel, we have to go,” she breathed. Once, she’d been fooled by a perfect illusion, there wouldn’t be a second time.

“Mother?”

“I will give my whore the choice to go free, if you will but give me the immortal weapon.”

“Whore?” Hel’s stance shifted. His bare shoulders tensed and tightened. “Whore?” his voice came out more disgusted this time. “You will let her go now.”

Lavix made a move toward Hel, and Valeen pointed her sword. “Not another step.”

Servante lifted his chin. “Give me Soulender and I will let all three of you go freely and unharmed.”

Valeen hooked her arm around Hel’s. “We can’t do that.” The demons behind them growled and snapped their jaws. Valeen jabbed the golden blade, backing them off as they hissed and spit. “Hel, we need to go now.”

Zaelia raised a hand toward them, chains clanking. “Wait, don’t leave me. Give them the weapon, please. I can’t stand another moment in this place.”

“We’ll come back,” she whispered.

“How could you leave your own mother?” Varlett added, taking a step closer. “Me, I understand, but the goddess who gave you life? You’ve always wondered what happened to her.”

She might not be real, Hel. There is magic swirling all around us. I can feel it. You said there would be illusions. Valeen pulled harder but he refused to move. She wouldn’t tell you to give them the sword. She would tell you to run.

He turned on her. His eyes held such sorrow. You’ve never been trapped here. You don’t know how much you’d give to be free.

Even Synick didn’t give them an immortal sword, Hel. Think about that.

Turning toward his mother once more, he blinked away whatever emotion he had, and that mask returned. He was the Black Mage and did not care. He was the god of mischief who could fool all. “If it is true that you traded yourself for me, why did you abandon me in the first place?”

“Zaurahel, please.” Tears ran down her face.

“You left me as a baby.”

“I traded my life for yours! You don’t know what happened.” She started sobbing.

He stared Servante down. “The sword will never be yours. Keep her.” It was cold. Unfeeling. Necessary.

Hel’s white wings materialized, and he curled an arm around Valeen’s waist.

“Sister,” Servante said to Varlett. “Don’t let them leave your new home. Take your revenge.”

“With pleasure.” She raised both arms upward. “Kill them.” And the host of demons charged once again. The giant hound knocked others aside with its massive shoulders and howled. The fat twin-headed monster stomped toward them.