Page 6 of The Shadow Fae Rhapsody (Elven Fantasy Romance #3)

Chapter 5 Rhianelle

“ R eady?”

Svenn’s deep, smooth voice owns my attention instantly.

I nod.

He pulls me in close, his hand resting on the small of my back. I know he doesn’t mean for it to be an intimate gesture. There’s no reason for my heart to beat this fast, but it does exactly that, thumping and throwing acrobatics in my chest.

“We don’t have to do this,” he whispers in my ear. “You can still change your mind.”

Fear flutters in my pulse as I look to the ground from the rooftop of our tower. “Let’s hurry before I change my mind then.”

A dark chuckle leaves him.

He has different kinds of wings on him today, not the dark membranous ones I saw last night. The one flaring wide behind him is almost angelic, like a giant eagle. I smooth my hand on the black feathers, loving how soft they are. It’s probably rude but I can’t resist the urge to play with them.

I must thank Lady Deirdre for crafting the fighting leathers specifically to fit Svenn’s need. Maybe she’s just tired of having to tailor new clothes for him each time he rips one.

I loop my hands around his neck easily, and he lifts me into his arms.

“Here goes,” he whispers.

My stomach dips the moment Svenn leaps from the roof. But I don’t scream at the free fall.

Not this time.

This time I force my eyes open to look at the surrounding. Nothing but the freezing, harsh wind greets me.

Another dark chuckle rumbles through him. The deep, husky sound of it tickles my ear. “That wasn’t not so bad, was it?”

“No, not at all,” I mutter against his chest, rubbing my eyes from the sting of the wind.

Svenn sees my struggle. “I’m going to make goggles for you if we’re going to do this often.”

He must have read the question in my eyes. “It’s something to cover your eyes while we’re flying. My father was a metalsmith. I dabbled on it in my human years and inherited some of his crafting skills.”

I treasure the bits of information of his past in my heart.

“It may not be as good as a dwarven—”

“I’m going to love it,” I quickly vow.

He gives a quick look before a smile tugs the corner of his mouth. “All right, Nel. Let’s see if you like the one I’m about to show you first.”

Of course I will. I’m going to cherish every gift from Svenn.

Each powerful stroke of his feathery wings brings us higher up to the bright blue sky. I remember the talon-tipped wings from last night. I suspect Svenn doesn’t use it today to avoid scaring me.

Despite the prickling in my eyes, I try to look at the sweeping view of the ground. We soar above thick woods, golden marshes, and twinning rivers. They are all a magnificent sight to witness from a bird’s eye view.

Yet they fail to pull my eyes away from Svenn. He is beautiful—beautiful in a way dangerous things are. I find myself stealing a glance at him at every opportunity. My heart sings a happy song each time I succeed.

“Tell me where we’re going,” I demand after a while. I should have probably asked that earlier, before going thousands of feet above the ground.

His eyes flare briefly. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see it when we get there.”

Surprises scare me…

I jut my chin to the large bag he carries along with us. “What’s in that?”

“Chicken,” he answers me this time. But doesn’t elaborate. “We’re almost there.”

The way he’s ardently looking at me sends tingles to strange places. My body remembers the feel of his warm, wet lips traveling along my throat, the way his hand touched me, and the feel of his hard length pressing on my back last night.

I’ve heard of people sleepwalking or sleep talking, but what Svenn did to me in his sleep was… I have no word for it. But I know I liked it. Would it be considered taking advantage of him in his sleep if I just keep it quiet?

I steel myself and give the surroundings another look to shake the inappropriate thoughts in my brain. I recognize the snowy peak of the sacred mountain of Mallusa from the region of southern region of Araddia at a distant.

We will cross the borders of Aelfheim soon into the wilderness of the Fae territory. The very thought of it makes me anxious.

I shiver a little and it’s not from the cold.

His gaze lingers on me for another instant. “Are you scared?”

“No.” I try for a smile.

But I think Svenn sees right through it. “I’m glad you’re no longer afraid of flying. You’re a natural at this, Rhianelle.”

“I’ve flown before,” I admit.

All the warmth on his face disappears.

“With whom?” I hear the edge in his voice.

“A friend,” I simply say. It was long ago back in Astefar, and unlike this scary flight, Sadie kept me safe in her back pocket whenever we took off.

Svenn lifts one dark eyebrow.

“Do I happen to know this friend?” His voice goes harder and a little annoyed. “He doesn’t happen to be a demon, does he?”

I feel his heart thrashing in his chest and the sudden tense in his muscles. It takes a while for me to realize it. The only other winged male acquainted with me is Kheirall.

I look up and see the knot between his eyebrows and his rankled expression. This sudden change of mood in him… Could Svenn be jealous?

That’s—that’s adorable.

I cuddle closer to hug him, wrapping my arms around his neck. A mischievous part of me reaches out to touch the wing on his back. I feel him shudder against me.

“Nel…” he says my name in warning.

But I can’t help it. I’m curious to know if these pretty wings are as sensitive as his soft membranous ones. My hand drifts slowly to the part where it sprouts from his shoulder blade.

“Don’t do that, naughty girl,” he chides, pressing his lips against the top of my head. The small contact sends a tingling sensation skating down my spine. If kisses are the punishment I get, then I want to be bad.

I make another try to reach back before Svenn squeezes me close to his body. The devilish grin pulling his lips is the only warning I get before we dive from the sky in a free fall.

It’s so terrifying I forget to scream. I bury my head in his chest until everything is over. My toes curl and my body tenses for the impact.

“We’re here,” he finally whispers.

I pull away, surprise to find him walking. The landing was so soft I barely felt it.

It takes a while for me to be steady on my feet again. My gaze sweeps over the area, taking in the rocky hill and the forest around me. The trees are dense and thick, their leaves moving in the wind, whispering to one another. Between the rocks and grasses are scattered flowering plants of every kind.

This place is beautiful.

I can’t hide the smile on my face as I kneel to smell the lavenders on the ground. We promised to go on our first date last night, but that plan was ruined. Could this be the replacement for it? My heart starts bouncing uncontrollably inside my ribcage.

I turn to him, heat burning up my cheeks. “Svenn, is this a date?”

His brows draw in as he stares down at me for a moment. Then a whisper of a smile touches his lips. “I suppose it is.”

My husband knows I love flowers and he brought me to this garden for our date. I draw in several measured breaths to keep my face from looking too excited.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” I say calmly.

Wind rustles his hair as he smirks at me. “This is not what I wanted to show you.”

His gaze shifts to the higher elevation. “It might be a bit of a hike.”

“I’m up for it. Let’s go.” I loop my hand around his arm. This is far better than our plan to go to the bookstore. I can’t wait to write everything down in my diary.

“Tell me if it gets tiring. I’ll carry you,” he says as we begin our ascend. As much as I love the prospect of being strapped to his chest again, I want to do this. I often catch him staring at my lame foot. It does acts from time to time on exertion but it’s fine on most daily task. I want him to know that he doesn’t have to worry.

The climb is easier than I thought, especially when Svenn has cleared a path for me. I hardly feel the burn on my legs. Dread seizes my heart the moment I see the brittle bones littering the grass. I watch my feet, careful not to step on them.

I’m beginning to get nervous.

“Svenn… where are we?” I ask him, my voice trembling.

He turns his head, his gaze sliding to me. “Ironwick.”

A roar shatters the realm just as he says that. Then another joins, and another. They echo in the air like the howling of wolves.

Oh gods…

This is fae territory. We’re in Avalon.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let anything hurt you,” he promises, tapping on a boulder for me to climb. “Come look.”

I step on the elevation and gaze down to the range of lower peaks below.

My heart plummeted to my feet at the first sight of the colossal beasts—monsters with scales that run from back to tail and eyes brighter than a furnace’s glow. A creature of magic as much as it is a creature of death. Everything in its arsenal is a weapon, from the pointed horns to its sharp spiky spinal plates, to its barbed tail, and of coursed those sharp talons and serrated teeth.

I try and fail to count the number of wyverns sunbathing in the bright daylight, spreading their thin wings and gorgeous dark scales. There are probably more in the deep pockets of the caverns below.

Across the lower summits and the nesting area sets a long hill with a castle on top of it. Tall watchtowers and spires spear to the sky, making up most of the architecture. I am most impressed by the glass deck at the centre. This house must belong to one of Eirik Bloodhound’s trusted fae lords.

A shiver creeps down my spine at the thought.

But Svenn doesn’t intend to bring me towards either of those dangerous places. We continue our journey to the top of our mountain. I remind myself Svenn is here. Nothing bad is going to happen as long as I have him by my side.

The higher we climb up the hill, the more bones I encounter laying on the ground. Death shrouds this place. A sick feeling twists my gut.

“What if the enemy finds us?” I ask him.

Svenn glances back at me and squeezes my hand. “None of the wyverns or fae frequent this place. This is where unwanted newborns go to die when they are abandoned.”

Unwanted newborns…? I echo in my head.

Why would Svenn take me to such a dark place?

Our track halts just short of the crest, opening onto a flat area filled with dense bushes where the trees are sparse. Svenn brushes his thumb on my knuckles, signaling me to release his hand.

“Wait here,” he whispers.

“Don’t leave me,” I beg him, gripping his hand.

“It’s just for a while,” he assures me, his voice unnervingly calm. “I promise it will be worth it.”

I nod softly and he disappears behind the thick bushes and shrubs.

An eternity drifts by and I regret my decision to let him go. There’s nothing to keep me company but the lonely howl of the wind. How long does he want me to wait? This place is creeping me out. It doesn’t help that I can hear the vicious roaring of the wyverns from the other hills below us.

I grow more impatient and scared by the second. The fear churning in my gut becomes unbearable. I can’t do this anymore.

“Svenn!”

I charge straight into the bushes, pushing leaves and thorns away. “You promised you wouldn’t be long—”

I stop dead in my tracks.

My brain fails to make sense of what my eyes are seeing. I’m not surprised to see Svenn’s tall, menacing shadow, Ken. I’m quite used to his presence by now. The sight that doesn’t quite register in my head is him being there with a brush in his hand, painting a pale, small wyvern.

The silent stretches as we stare at one another.

“What is this?” I dare ask.

Svenn visibly swallows before answering calmly, “This is it… Your other birthday present.”

‘My birthday present’ slips into the shrubs behind him quickly.

I take a deep, steadying breath.

Svenn detects my growing unease and turns on his shadow. “This was your Ken’s idea. Not mine.”

The shadow stands abruptly and darts towards me. I think he is trying to explain himself, but I can’t hear or understand his sign language.

“He wants you to know that the red paint is made from berries,” Svenn quickly translates. “He also wants you to know that it’s organic. It’s not going to harm the poor thing.”

I blink. Too stunned for words.

“Told you she wouldn’t want this,” Svenn immediately hisses to Ken.

The two go on to bicker about color palettes and the decision to bring me here. I clutch my chest and slowly steps towards the bush. Everything in our books taught us that the wyverns are deadly and wild, a force of great calamity ever since the fae learned to tame them.

I approach the frightened wyvern carefully while Ken and Svenn argue. It rattles like a snake as I get closer. I flinch in my step.

“It’s all right. Don’t worry,” I say soothingly.

Wyverns are not pure dragons like the seadragons of the Varan trench. Trying to talk to them would be as futile as forcing a cat to listen.

I turn to Svenn and Ken. “We need to return her to her mother. She must be worried sick looking for this little one.”

“She’s not,” Svenn says quickly, his chest heaving with a heavy breath. He crouches next to me, holding out his hand to the terrified creature. “The mother has twelve baby wyverns in her nest to feed. One of her eggs—this one—was caught in the males’ brawl for territory and got trampled. It was cracked before it could be incubated properly.”

The wyvern shrinks shyly behind the bushes as if she knows we are talking about her.

“The mother had to choose which one would survive…” I mutter absently.

Svenn nods grimly. “She just didn’t make the cut. If I hadn’t fed her, she would have died weeks ago.”

This little one was abandoned… The very thought of it hurt my heart. I hold my hand to her, wondering if she’ll take it. My arm is aching by the time she comes out from her hiding place.

I exhale a breath of awe slowly. Yes, the pale creature is smaller than the other wyverns, but she is still bigger than Briallen, my warhorse. She nuzzles the tip of my fingers curiously with her snout. I giggle at the ticklish sensation of her breath, and the sound of my laugh scares her away.

When the wyvern gathers her courage to come out again, I apply the secret technique I used to lure stray cats. I rub the wyvern under her chin. I’m surprise to find her scales rubbery and smooth instead of hard. She seems to like it and starts making soft, purring noises.

“She’s so cute.” My heart squeals at the eager wagging of her barbless tail. I stroke the spinal spikes on her neck next, but Svenn suddenly comes between us.

“Not her.”

It’s all I hear before a thunderous boom echoes, reverberating through the leaves. I cover my quivering ears at the deafening blow.

Dust settles from the sudden impact between the wyvern’s head and Svenn’s hand. I hardly dare breathe. If he hadn’t blocked that tackle, I would have ended with a broken skull.

Svenn tugs the wyvern’s rubber horn roughly. “You can do this to me and Coinneach, but not her.”

The wyvern paws at the dirt like a bull and charges at him again with her head. I think if Svenn was a mortal like the rest of us, he might have dislocated his shoulder from that headbutt.

“You absolutely cannot hit Rhianelle, understand?” Svenn tells her again. “If you don’t play nice. I won’t bring her again.”

The wyvern and I both pause at the warning. Her dark, gleaming eyes blink.

Slowly, it circles around me, barely grazing my skin with her rubber scale. I giggle at the strange suede sensation of her skin. It feels as soft as swimming with the moray eels in Volundr.

She’s trying to show him she understands.

Svenn withdraws a whole chicken from his satchel, and he has her full attention. Flame erupts from his hand, the same one he used to burn my enemies alive last night. Now he’s using it to roast a chicken for this baby wyvern. The meat is almost charred when he finally stops.

“Sit,” he commands the wyvern.

The little one does so, and I’m impressed. She’s immediately rewarded with her meal. The hungry wyvern gobbles on her food like she hasn’t eaten for days. It’s so satisfying to watch her eat. My stomach growls at the crunching sound of her chewing the food.

Svenn passes me a packed lunch box. “Yours.”

My brows shoot up to my hairline with surprise when he draws a blanket from his bag. The same man who admitted to killing one of the Aeonians yesterday is now spreading a rug on the grass for me to sit on.

He sets it in the open space so our view is unhindered by trees. I settle on the cloth comfortably beside Ken. The sight of the big sandwich with its rich fillings in my mealbox has me smiling to my ears.

I’m about to dig in when Svenn suddenly winces.

“What’s wrong?”

He says nothing for a long moment, but I sense his deep annoyance. “One of the beasts in me, Cyntefin, wants you to know that he helped raise the baby wyvern. They can only eat roasted meat.”

Svenn shows me a fallen leaf. I can’t name the exact plant, but it looks like a dwarf blue gum or some kind of eucalyptus. “The leaves here are easily combustible. Wyverns that are abandoned will try to survive on this crest by starting a fire to fry the critters they catch.”

I remember the bones on the hills earlier. They belong to the other baby wyverns in the past who didn’t make it. A flash of sadness eclipses my heart. “Thank you, Cyntefin.”

“They all fancy you,” Svenn mutters quietly. “These creatures inside me…”

“I like them too,” I say easily.

Shadows swirl around us in response to Ken’s delight and he weaves a wildflower into my hair.

I meant what I said this morning. I accept his monsters and demons. I think I even love them. Svenn seems to have more to say on that, but he remains quiet.

I notice he forgot to pack a sandwich for himself.

“You can have some of mine,” I say, giving him the bigger half. Blaire and I fight for food all the time. I hope he understands what this means for someone who was almost starved to death. I love watching the polite way Svenn eats. He makes sure to chew his food a hundred times before swallowing. Lady Deirdre would have been proud of his court manners.

Ken pulls the wyvern’s horn to stop her from chewing on our rug. I touch his shadowy hand softly. “Don’t be so rough on my wyvern. Coral’s just a baby.”

The wyvern tilts her head curiously at me.

My wyvern?

I’m surprised over my own words too. But I don’t want to take them back. If her mother didn’t want this one, then I claim her.

“That’s right, you’re mine,” I tell the wyvern. I stroke the spinal spikes on her neck and she purrs again. “You’re mine, Coral.”

Svenn arches a brow. “Coral?”

The fae usually gave fearsome names and titles to their beast, Felkor the Echo of Damnation, Allayna Lady of the Cadavers, Luisyn the Dread Lord.

I feel my cheeks turning to tomatoes. “Coral. That’s her name.”

I place some of Ken’s wildflowers on the wyvern’s head while she munches her roasted chicken. “Eat, Coral. You’ll grow up big and strong.”

She sprints into the field just as soon as she finishes eating.

Svenn and I sit together in comfortable silence as we watch Ken and Coral play fetch in the field. I can’t remember the last time I was around someone without talking for so long. A response is always expected from me, whether in the temple or in court.

I take a deep breath and glance at the heavens above. Fluffy clouds drift by against the stunning blue sky, blown away by the soft wind. I silently thank Svenn in my heart for bringing me here. It doesn’t banish the coiling dread in my stomach completely, but it gives me the air to breathe.

I marvel at the way the sunlight dance on Svenn’s dark hair. Instead of burning the vampire, it does nothing but enhance his beauty. I want to scoot closer and plop my head on his shoulder. But Svenn’s sharp eyes are trained on something.

“What are you looking at?” I ask, following his gaze to the other wyverns on the lower peaks.

“There’s an accumulation of methane in that chamber,” he mutters, pointing at one range. “If I can start a fire there, it will cause a big enough explosion to destroy at least three or four pockets of the caverns below.”

Silence blankets the air around us for several beats.

“We can dismantle at least one third of the fae airborne infantry,” he continues.

His sharp eyes snap to me when I say nothing. “I know you don’t wish for it, but this war is happening, Nel. It’s all I hear in my travels.”

My heart tightens to a knot.

“I know that,” I say quietly.

Svenn shifts his position to look at me better. “But don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not going to let anything hurt you.”

Sweetheart?

His nicknames always make me feel weightless. But his tactical plan earlier worries me. I don’t want him to get himself hurt over me. “You don’t have to do anything for me, Svenn.”

“I want to,” he says, steady and certain. “I want you to know you can rely on me. Just talk to me. Tell me things again. Send me some kind of a fucking signal if you’re going to explore the sewers in the dead of night to chase after rats.”

His eyes roam over me, unravelling the knot in my heart. “I want you to trust me again.”

“All right,” I say, dragging in a shaky breath under that stare. “But trust goes both ways. You can’t keep secrets from me either.”

He flicks up an eyebrow. “Secrets? I don’t have any—”

His sudden pause makes me curious.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” I offer.

“Deal,” he says all too quickly. “Your knight, Red. He’s keeping something from you.”

I stare at him with a look of surprise. “Garrett trusted you with a secret?”

“I found out on my own. But he told me to keep it,” he says, averting his eyes from me.

I’ve always known that Garrett is a little different from my other two knights. He trails along the gray lines of right and wrong. A Valorian Commander who once worked in service of the Aeonian.

Bile teases the back of my throat at the thought of my knight betraying me. No, his loyalty was never in question. Whatever this is, it’s something else…

I take a long, calculated breath. “This thing he is keeping from me… what do you think of it?”

“I approve it,” Svenn answers curtly. “You wouldn’t like it, though. That’s why I’m telling you.”

His words sear into my heart like a dagger. But I know Garrett would never do anything to hurt me. Neither would Svenn.

“He will tell me someday.” I finally decide.

A spark of amusement flashes in his eyes as he looks at me again.

“I don’t want to damage your friendship with him,” I add.

Svenn visibly cringes—scowling at my words.

Laughter bubbles from me at that face. “You need friends.”

He scoffs. “I only need you.”

My heart flutters like a songbird in a cage over those simple words. “You haven’t shared your own secret with me. Garrett’s doesn’t count. Tell me something about you.”

His gaze falls on the Rhunhraefn marking on my belly. “All my secrets, everything in my past, is open for you to see. You have my blessing to visit them.”

I make a face and pout. “Then tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

A dark chuckle fills the air. “I’d hate for you to run away, little fawn.”

“You can tell me. I can keep a secret,” I promise, drawing closer to him.

He leans in to whisper, his warm breath tickling my skin. “What do you want to know, Nel?”

Goosebumps erupt all over me and my body trembles at the sudden rush of sensation. My heart starts beating absurdly fast when his large hand slides around my waist, pulling me close.

“Shall I tell you about the dark thoughts I have at night? The things I want to do to you?” I suck in a harsh breath as his scuffed jaw grazes on my neck. “Shall I tell you how you drive me insane?”

He’s so close that I have to breathe through my nose to avoid inhaling his scent. Because I know that if I do…

“Svenn…” I try to pull away, but not only does he hold me tighter, I somehow end up in his cradle. He does it so casually, yet there is nothing casual in the way he makes me feel. My heart does several more backflips.

“Perhaps it’s best if I show it to you, Nel.” His voice roughens. He doesn’t sound like himself.

“Show me what?” I blow out a quick breath. I don’t sound like myself either.

His dark eyes train on my breasts, then lower and lower until they turn molten. “How I made you come all over my tongue with my name on your lips?”

I whimper at the promise. My body tenses waiting for him to touch me more, my thighs clenching together in anticipation.

More.

But the promise doesn’t come. Svenn pulls away and I shiver at the loss of warmth.

He chuckles to himself. “Oh wait, it’s your turn.”

What?

I stare at him and glare…

“A secret for a secret.” He laughs. This cruel man laughs.

That’s a jerk move… But two can play that game.

I lick my lips, achingly aware of how he follows the movement. “I dream of you.”

I regret it the moment the secret slips from my mouth.

An arrogant smirk graces his face. “That is to be expected.”

He must have read the subtle change in my expression because an austere look takes over his face. “Was it a bad dream?”

I look to the ground because I don’t know how to even begin to describe what I experienced.

It’s too weird, not to mention, embarrassing. I feel like I should tell Svenn of the dark games we play in my dreams, that I met a version of him in there that is scary. I call him Dream Svenn. I should tell him how the dreams feel so real that sometimes I want to cry.

“Nel, what’s wrong? Tell me,” Svenn asks, his face and his voice stern. “Did I hurt you in there?”

I quickly shake my head. “You didn’t hurt me, but you were… mean.”

Cruel.

Just as I say that I am slammed with the memory of one of the dreams. Dream Svenn brought me to a forest, forced me to run, then made love to me senseless in the open. I feel a tingle of arousal from the mere recollection of that encounter.

Svenn’s pupils constrict as he meets my gaze. His expression turns from concerned into something dark and possessive. It’s like he wants to reach into my dreams and destroy the evil version of him.

“Nel…Whatever I did to you in those dreams, feel free to take it out on me here.”

I start to laugh. “It’s just a dream. My own imagination.”

But Svenn is not having any of it. “That would mean you’re afraid of me. I don’t want that.”

My lips purse and I cease laughing when he passes me his dagger. “If it makes you feel better, safer. Do what you must.”

“What? No—I’m not going to stab you.” I panic.

His gaze gentles, yet the fire in those eyes is enough to scorch me into ashes. “I need you to know I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know that, Svenn.” I swallow hard.

I know. I know. I know. I heard your confession.

A million unspoken words remain unsaid between us, but I read the truth in that sharp gaze. Rainer and Aerin were always two steps ahead of me whenever we played chess. For the first time in forever, I have the upper hand. I heard Svenn’s confession last night.

You’re my everything.

And he doesn’t know that I know. But how can this still be a fair game when he has laid all his cards on the table?

I’ve won…

You’re the only thing that matters to me.

I can’t lose you, Nel.

I frame his face with my hands, forcing him to look at me. “The bond wants me to hold you again.”

A growing smirk decorates his face. “It does?”

There’s that suspicious, knowing smile again. It’s making me nervous because it feels like he knows something I don’t.

It’s not just the bond, Svenn, I almost say.

I want him. And knowing that he wants me too gives me this confidence. I only use the bond as an excuse because my proud brick walls can’t crumble yet.

“Yeah, it’s that strange connection,” I whisper.

“Take whatever you need,” he says, his tender lips part, revealing just a hint of his sharp fangs. I feel a flush of heat sinking lower in my belly.

Walls of bricks, not of straw.

I did build my walls from bricks like my uncle told me to, but they’re full of craters now. They might as well be made of straw. I’m not deluded enough to think that I can change him. It’s like trying to tame a hurricane.

I trail a path from his jaw down to the column of his throat, pushing the boundaries of our agreement.

A groan of pure contentment escapes him. He heaves a heavy breath, letting his shoulder slides. “This is not part of our deal.”

I reach out and sift my fingers through the longer part of his hair, smiling softly. “Should I stop?”

“No.”

I run my hand over his chest and down his abdomen. A low grunt rises in his throat at the touch. “Nel… if you start this, you better have every intention of finishing it.”

“I do.”

We both stills at the sultry sound of my voice. I kiss his eye one after the other. A dark thrill courses through me as I tease him.

Svenn catches my wrist. “Wait.”

Shock rolls into me when he suddenly throws a stone at Ken’s head. It hits him directly and passes through his formless body.

“Go take the dragon for a stroll,” Svenn orders his shadow.

The shadow scratches his head in annoyance. But he obliges, tying a vine around Coral’s neck.

“Now where were we?” His eyes glow with desire and danger. Just looking at him has heat pooling low in my belly. He coasts his hand up my waist but stops just short of cupping my breast.

Svenn lets me do things at my own pace. He is miles apart from his terrifying dream version. That Svenn would have pushed me against the tree and made love to me in the open.

My sweet Svenn in the real world brought a blanket to make sure I’m comfortable.

I keep touching him wherever I please.

The raw longing in his eyes has my hands trembling a little. This man says I’m his everything… Well, he’s my everything too.

I run my thumb on the seams of his lips as I lean down to claim them. “Svenn…”

Darkness curtains my vision momentarily.

It’s like night has suddenly descended upon us. Is it a sudden eclipse? Confusion sweeps through me and I look up to the sky.

A wyvern soars the heaven, the largest I have ever seen, with scales as red as blood. Tendrils of hot breath and smoke curl from its vicious maw. The hair on the back of my neck prickles at the terrifying sight.

“There is something different about that one,” Svenn mutters, narrowing his eyes to the red wyvern as it makes its descent near the house on the long hill.

I let out a small sigh, trying to expel the fear in my lungs. Fully grown wyverns are mostly black or mottled-gray, but there’s only one wyvern known to have a crimson coat.

Sanguisyl the Red Rain.

I can’t tell if it was bestowed with that name because of the color of its scales or because legend has it that wherever the wyvern flies, blood will pelt the earth in an endless barrage.

Other wyverns back away from the red one. They launch to the sky one by one at his approach. The air pulses with the sound of leathery wings, like a thousand moths taking flight.

Just as I begin to wonder whether its infamous rider is there—I see him.

By the gods… he’s right there.

My heart freezes at the sight of the fae on top of Sanguisyl’s neck. Its rider is none other than Eirik Bloodhound’s son himself.

The Fae Prince of Avalon.