Page 8 of The Shadow Fae Rhapsody (Elven Fantasy Romance #3)

Chapter 7 Rhianelle

W ater. So much of it. Everywhere.

The people of Kashran and Volundr are terrific swimmers. I kick and paddle against the tide to get to higher ground.

Despite my best effort, the raging torrent overwhelms me. Water rushes in, filling my lungs, and I’ll be dead soon. Death must be annoyed to see me at his door again. All I can think of is how I dragged Nimue and Coral into this mess. Into my mess.

This is all my fault.

A heavy branch strikes my head and darkness claims me. My eyes droop.

I’ll come back.

I told him that, didn’t I?

Sorrow clutches my heart. I shouldn’t have made promises I can’t keep. A hand grasps my arm, pulling me up.

Svenn? He came to rescue me?

I take a gasping breath as soon as I break through the surface.

“Hang in there, Rhianelle,” I hear Nimue yelping anxiously. She grabs me and Coral, swimming us to safety. The wraith keeps our heads above water as she pedals on her back. I can feel her strength dissipating with every stroke. Nimue is used to the calm lake of Astefar, not this dangerous, wild tide.

I barely manage to push myself from the flowing rush to the higher slopes lined with the trees. Nimue and I struggle to pull up Coral, but after several painful heaves, we finally get her down on the mud.

The wyvern lays unmoving.

“No, no, no. Heavens please,” I beg the heavens as I crawl to check her head.

I stroke her belly and her back. Her scales are cold. So cold. She has no heartbeat, no breathing sound.

Nothing.

“Is the baby dead?” Nimue asks, slumping beside me. A note of panic creeps into her voice.

“I don’t…” I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

I attempt another rub on her back to rouse the small wyvern. Nimue does the same, but Coral remains completely still.

Branches crunch from behind us.

The Shadow Fae can be as silent as a mouse if he wants to. That sound he made is purposeful, an announcement of his presence, just as the thud of his heavy boots in the mud.

“It’s too late for you to run now,” the jester says in a mocking tone. “Master Landon, thank goodness you’ve come. These thieves are trying to steal your precious artwork.”

“Shut it,” the Shadow Fae orders curtly.

The jester finally does, covering his mouth.

Nimue steps between Landon and me.

“Don’t—don’t come any closer.” My friend tries to keep her voice and her feet steady. She’s failing miserably at both.

My breath turns uneven as I look at the two of them in their standoff.

“Hello there.” The fae’s lovely voice carries across the clearing.

The Lady of the Lake turns even paler than her usual ghost-like skin, but she remains determined.

“Are you the one who’s been watering my garden?” he asks in that musical lilt.

The Lady of the Lake gives him a nod of confirmation.

He stares at her response silently.

“Good girl.”

Just like that, Nimue melts into a puddle. Her spirit abruptly returns to Astefar through my summoning spell.

The Shadow Fae gives a lighthearted chuckle and a shrug before swiveling to me. “Water wraiths, am I right?”

Poor Nimue. It fills me with liquid fire every time Svenn calls me a good girl too. This fae knows the water wraith is shy and vulnerable to praises. It will take months for her to recover from that.

“You used her weakness against her…” I mutter.

“I do mean my gratitude for her help. Ironwick is in the middle of a nasty draught season. With this new water source, grass will grow, bisons and mountain goats will flock this area again,” he says casually, as if discussing the weather with one of his advisors. “Our herd will grow and prosper. Good thing none of the nest is nearby.”

He finally turns to fully look at me. I take in his presence just as he stares at me.

“An elf…” he muses. “Are you an assassin from Tiamat?

I blink, surprised by his question.

That’s right… He doesn’t know I’m the queen of Aelfheim.

“How did you know the prince was going to be here?” he asks again.

I don’t bother answering his questions because nothing really matters right now. I scramble for the piece of a broad wet leaf to fold into a crane.

“Can you please save her?” I gesture towards Coral. My hand trembles as I pass him the tithe. “I’ll bargain with you.”

He cants his head. “Why on earth would I bargain with an elf?”

His rejection makes my heart clench. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

He gives Coral a once over, then turns to me again. “Death is a kindness to her. That wyvern should not have been born yet. The cartilage over her back has not formed as it should. She will never fly. No rider will claim her. She’ll starve and die soon enough.”

My throat tightens to the point of pain.

“No.” I shake my head, holding on to Coral’s limp body stubbornly.

“It’s called natural selection. Even the mother knows her survival is futile,” the Shadow Fae says easily.

I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Save her,” I beg with all my heart.

He says nothing and merely looks at me. My pulse ticks faster the longer the Shadow Fae stare at me.

“What makes you think I can do that?” he asks.

“You have a castle next to their home…” I mutter faintly. I know I’m grasping at straws but I’m desperate. “You must know something that can help.”

He gives a mirthless laugh. “I’m merely a custodian of this place—”

“Save her…” I urge him again.

I’m met with tense silence. I feel so helpless I want to cry.

“Step aside.” His voice is like a knife’s edge.

I give him as much room and berth as he needs.

“Are you going to use faerie magic?” I ask him. I know they are capable of performing miracles.

“There are no spells known to mortals that can transcend death,” the fae mutters absently.

He flips Coral to lie on her back and places his hand on her chest, giving her chest compression. It’s no different from the one I learn in swim school back in Volundr.

My heart dims with every failed cycle. The fae maintains the same intensity and pressure without tiring.

I pray to the Seventy-Seven. I pray to the Un. I pray to Death.

Let her live.

The wyvern’s raw struggle for breath filters through the air.

“Coral!”

My fractured heart beats again. I move to her side instantly. Coral coughs like a cat choking on hairballs. She trashes until she finds her way into my arms again.

“It’s me. You’re all right. I’m here,” I whisper in her ear over and over.

Her baying sound subsides as soon as she recognizes me. I thank the gods and the stars for saving her life. I turn around slowly towards her savior.

“You’re not from Tiamat or Kashran…” he muses, his voice deceptively soft. “Who are you?”

I don’t answer him.

His head moves as he studies me through the slit in his helmet, the slow motion making my heart race.

“Someone from Aelfheim…” he surmises after a while. “Perhaps you’re the so-called Valorian cultists working for your Elders. Bold of those bastards for sending you to my doorstep.”

“I am not an assassin,” I say quietly.

“But you’re an elf.” He withdraws a curved blade from his back, his movement smooth and precise. “Therefore, you must die.”

Cold fear settles in my gut. I don’t want to die. I promised Svenn I’ll come back to him.

“Why must you kill me?” I dare ask.

He turns his head and stares down at me. “You sneaked into my house, crashed my evening tea, terrorized my garden, stole my wyvern. I have every right to hunt and kill you.”

“That’s right… kill her, Master Landon,” the jester cheers, hanging up his mismatch socks in the panting to dry.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut it?” the Shadow Fae snaps, annoyance reeking his voice. He looks incline to shred the painting more than I do.

I silently thank the jester in my heart for the reminder.

“Spare me, Landon.” I call out the fae by his name. I put in as much strength as I can in that voice.

Lightning flashes at a distant, adding the effect to my command. That’s right.

There is power in a name, Jessica once said. Fae are obligated to obey you once you call them by their True Name.

“You cannot harm me or this wyvern. Turn around and leave,” I instruct.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, instead of obeying my command, his body trembles with laughter.

“You can’t seriously think that is my True Name?” He shakes his head with disbelief.

It’s not?

“Every guy who ever lived in that house over the long hill is called Landon,” he adds.

Oh.

Heat flares my cheeks. I do an abysmal job of hiding the embarrassment from my face, which only adds to his amusement.

Whatever. It was worth a shot…

He moves closer and crouches in front of me. “You truly are amusing… and you did find a new water source for us.”

My pulse picks up at the sudden proximity.

“Fae are nothing but fair,” he says, whisking a coin between his fingers. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we let fate decide?”

I raise a brow at the suggestion.

He waves the coin in front of me. “Heads, you live, tails, you die. Does that sound fair to you?”

No.

The fae doesn’t even let me choose which sides before tossing the coin to the air.

A dark chuckle leaves him as he reads my fate on the coin. “Looks like death it is, white rabbit.”

He draws the curved blade once again. The weapon is dark from the hilt to the tip like it’s dipped in shadow.

Coral snarls at the threat, even though she’s too weak to do anything. The spikes on her neck make a strange rattling sound to terrify her enemy. Landon raises a hand to calm her down.

“Don’t fret, little one. I’m not going to hurt you. Just her,” he promises the wyvern.

I glare at him over his approach, raising my chin in defiance.

Coral growls harder and her body starts glowing. Light flares from her scales, shining brighter than the sun in the sky. I shield my eyes from the luminous glare.

A memory plays in my head, but it’s not my memory, because I’m staring at myself back at the field as I say,

You’re mine.

Yes, you’re mine.

A wonderful feeling envelops me, making me feel safe, loved, and accepted. Goosebumps erupt on my skin from the warm sensation.

The iridescence fades and my eyes flutter open.

“Fool,” the fae curses under his breath, his gaze fixed on Coral.

“What happened?” I ask, shaking my head to get rid of the white light still staining my peripheral vision.

“The flightless wyvern has bonded herself to you,” the fay says with a heavy breath. “She has chosen you as her Thugra, her rider. Not that she can fly.”

I turn to her immediately. My heart swells with so much joy I’m afraid it may burst. “Oh Coral…”

The wyvern whines shyly, nuzzling her head softly to mine. Her eyes are radiant like the stars in the sky.

Landon scoffs with clear revulsion. “But this means that if you die, she dies.”

Whatever happiness I felt earlier dims and my heart stumbles. I plant my head to Coral’s rubbery scales and kiss her cheek. Why would she do that? That is so sad—no.

She chose me, I remind myself.

This little wyvern chose me.

The fae shakes his head in dismay. “Survived that drowning only to perish in my hand. I’ll make this quick. At least for her sake.”

My mind races as I force myself to think of a way out of this.

“Wait,” I say hopelessly, staring up at my enemy. “Let me see your face.”

The request must have startled him because he remains still for a moment.

“There’s no use stalling, white rabbit.” He finally heaves a sigh. “The only people who are allowed to see my face are my future mate and my dead enemies.”

“I’ll clearly belong to the latter soon,” I say. My voice is surprisingly calm. “So let me see your face.”

We stare at each other for the longest moment. To my absolute surprise, he takes off his helmet.

Good. Good.

The metallic mask falls down on the mud with a thud. A small breath leaves me as I look at his face. His voice is attractive, but his face is about a thousand times more alluring. Landon is beyond beautiful.

Too bad for him I’ve developed an immunity ever since Svenn stole my heart with his otherworldly charm. I grip the rock in my hand tighter, ready to smash it right over his temple.

His dark eyes lock onto mine as he raises the blade high, the sunlight bouncing off the obsidian metal. “You’ve seen me. Now you must die, little elf.”

The blade descends as quickly as my counter—but neither of us hit our mark. The surprise in Landon’s crystalline blue eyes matches my own as he gazes at the dark figure that appears between us.

Ken is blocking the fae’s blade with his shadow sword. He rams his forehead on the stunned fae’s face.

“I know you,” Landon mutters, taking a step back. “Ysendral?”

He tries to talk to Ken in the fae’s native tongue.

It’s no use.

Ken doesn’t answer. He just wants to kill. The shadow moves like a pulsating rage, attacking the fae relentlessly.

Landon is able to parry him blow by blow, but he is clearly being pushed back. He loosens the tie on the other winged punching blade strapped to his thigh, but Ken doesn’t give him a chance to draw it.

Fear replaces the arrogant look on his face. “Ysendral please!”

Ysendral.

The fae keeps on repeating that word over and over. My grasp on the various dialects of the fae tongue is rather poor, but it resonates a lot with ‘ancestor.’ He tries to attack the opening on Ken’s right side. The shadow deflects the hit easily, twisting Landon’s hand and disarming him.

Ken has the fae’s curved blade in his hand. It’s over now. I let out the breath I’ve been holding. Between one heartbeat and the next, he shoves the curved blade deep into Landon’s chest, right below his clavicle.

A gasp parts my lips as Ken drags the fae using the blade he buried. The fae mumbles and groans, unable to do anything like a fish on a hook. “Where are you taking me?”

Ken gives him an answer quickly this time as he slams the fae and the blade to the nearby tree.

I flinch at the gruesome sight.

Gods above… He pins the fae warrior to the tree trunk like nailing a poster.

Friendly Ken who braided flowers into my hair, who taught coral to play fetch, is also capable of this brutality. My husband is so good at hiding his predatory instinct that I almost forgot how dangerous he is. A collection of demons and beasts, an apex predator.

But he is the monster I chose.

Ken returns to me, running his wispy dark mist on my cheek to check on me.

“I’m not hurt,” I tell him.

He nods, tracing his finger on the air in a straight line. The fabric of the realm unravels at the gesture. He peels it open and offers me his hand.

It’s a portal…

The tendrils of his shadow wraps around Coral, helping her rise to her feet. She limps slowly towards the darkness.

I turn to the barely alive fae, plastered to the tree. “I’m taking the wyvern with me,” I announce my claim.

Coral chose me. I’m not leaving her here to starve.

“So take her,” he says uncaringly. “Take him too.”

He juts his head towards the loud painting that’s still mocking me non-stop. “You’ll pay for what you did to the Master.”

A fae’s gifts are dangerous and always full of tricks. I shake my head, refusing the offer. Why would I want a mean painting? It’s creepy anyway, with the green hat and mismatched socks.

“Can you at least turn him over?” Landon pleads, his voice rife with pain.

I move to pick up the Jester, wiping the mud from his frame.

“Master, oh lords… what has she done to you?” The jester gasps and sobs. He may be loud, unfunny, and annoying, but he might be able to draw attention and call for help. I plant the painting at the foot of a tree right in front of the Shadow Fae.

“Fucking hell…” Landon drawls a curse and turns to me. “You truly have no mercy, don’t you, elf?”

I gather my satchel and look at the fae for the last time. I feel bad for leaving him hanging on the tree.

“You’ve seen my face…” the fae drawls. He gives me a slow smile that strikes a fear deep in my heart. “Remember this well. You’re marked for death.”

Black fogs surround Ken as soon as the fae says that. I run to the shadow on pure instinct, launching myself into his arms. “No, don’t!”

But it’s too late. My gaze swivels to the tree.

A shadow spear is now stuck on the trunk, inches away from the fae’s head. It gradually disappears like smoke. Had I not disrupted Ken’s aim, Landon would have died instantly.

I touch Ken’s shadowy hand. “Let’s just go home, please.”

The shadow touches my cheek in understanding. Home.

“Wait, girl!” the fae calls for me.

I sigh and cast him another look. His expression turns thunderous.

“Who are you?” he asks desperately. “Why do you have one of the Ysendrals with you?”

This armored fae is Eirik Bloodhound’s Herald, the summoner of the Wild Hunt. And I’m a queen who had just trespassed on the enemy’s territory.

I enter the aperture without looking back.

Moving in the portal feels like wading through a body of water, an endless pitch-black ocean. Coral and I fumble through the darkness until we find a bright light ahead of us. I glimpse the silhouette of a man standing tall.

“Svenn!” My cry is muffled by the excited screech of the wyvern beside me. She’s delighted to see him too.

Yes, we’re home, Coral.

A grunt escapes him when we both slam into his body. He envelopes me in his arms, filling my lungs with his addictive, fresh ocean breeze. I nearly burst into tears.

“Are you injured?” he asks.

I shake my head. The scratches and pain don’t matter. I close my eyes, relishing in the safety of his embrace.

He leans down, kissing the crown of my head. “Coinneach, take us to safety.”

I’m so grateful to hear the sound of his cool voice.

Another rift opens in the air. Once again, we are suspended in the pitch-black darkness. Svenn opens one portal after another, taking us to jagged mountains and faraway desert. He keeps us moving, shuttling us through space and time. I can sense him becoming weaker with every jump into the dark void. We must have passed through dozens of them now.

“Enough please,” I beg, tugging his arm.

Our final destination is a secluded bay near a soft flowing stream—and he crashes on the ground.

“Svenn!” I grip his shoulder to turn him to face me. He seems dazed, but in a blink, his eyes focus on mine.

“I’m fine, Nel,” he says, giving me a reassuring smile.

He doesn’t look like he is. His chest heaves, struggling to take in air.

Svenn never struggles with anything.

The river breeze stirs his coal black hair. I help him sit up against the black boulder. This dimension travel, whatever it is, it’s taking a toll on him significantly. I’ve never seen Svenn having to exert this much strength. I remember how he was laughing manically while fighting my uncle, my knights, the Grimsbanes, and a battalion of elves.

I stroke the hair from his face. “You’ve never used this trick before.”

He nods.

Svenn looks so worn out that even Coral is worried. She headbutts his shoulder to cheer him up. He tugs on the wyvern’s horn. “Sneaky little brat. Slipped right out from my sight.”

Her tail wags and she charges harder like a stubborn bull, fighting against his pull.

I withdraw Svenn’s arm gently. “Don’t be angry. She almost drowned.”

The wyvern doesn’t mind the rough play. But she’s so small that I’m always anxious. I touch my chest to calm the warm, protective feeling I feel for her.

Ken suddenly appears. The shadow exchanges a nod with Svenn before waving to me and disappearing again.

“He’s secured the perimeter. It’s safe here.” Svenn gathers me closer and rests his chin over my head. It’s heavy but I don’t mind it. Not after everything that happened. I need to hear the steady thrum of his heart. Coral plops her head on his lap and he grunts.

We stay like that for a while, catching our breath.

He strokes my badly tangled hair softly, “I know you had that under control, but Ken said that I should intervene—”

“No, he was right. Thank you.”

If it wasn’t for Svenn, I would have smashed that rock on Landon’s face. There’s no telling if the next Herald chosen by the Fae King will be as ‘reasonable’.

“Are you all right?” he asks me.

Am I all right? I ask myself right back.

My mind is still numb from all the shock. I just learnt that the Shadow Fae I met when I was young was a fake and I met the real one all in the same day. We’re on the brink of war and there’s a possibility that the Aeonians are plotting something against Aelheim.

I don’t know if I’m all right, so I shrug. I pour out everything I had found out in the fae’s house, from his plan to attack, the conversation between Landon and the Fae Prince, everything. My husband listens, holding my hand the entire time. He says nothing for a long beat.

“Look at how far my thieving fawn has come,” Svenn finally mutters to my hair.

Huh?

I straighten my spine and pull away to look at him.

“Started with buttons and shoelaces, and now she’s stealing wyvern,” he says, scratching Coral’s head.

A light laughter leaves me at the remark. “I asked for permission. They didn’t want her. She’s mine now.”

My pale, flightless wyvern.

“Is she now?” His mouth twists with a smile.

I nod with confidence. Even as my world is falling to pieces, his smirk never fails to make my heart skip a beat.

“Come on, let’s get rid of this,” he says, wiping mud off my cheek.

I follow him to the flowing river. The horrible feeling in my chest eases a little after talking to Svenn. My husband has a way of doing that.

“Come here,” I call out to Coral. I want to clean the mud on her scales. Maybe I can get rid of the ‘organic’ red paint too.

She stays where she is by the boulder, tucking her hands into a loaf. I think she’s had enough encounter with water for a day.

“I got her,” Svenn says, picking a damp and cloth and moving towards the stubborn wyvern.

Warmth spreads in my chest as I watch him handle her so gently. Svenn is so convinced that there is nothing good about him, but I don’t believe that. He saved that starving wyvern’s life. It takes a long moment for me to tear my eyes away from them.

I immerse myself fully in the flowing river to wash away the earth and dirt from my body. I wish the water would take these restless thoughts in my head too.

The sun slowly dips in the horizon ahead of us, bleeding pastel colors all over the atmosphere. I climb the riverbank and stare up at the sky above me. A certain melancholy crawls into my chest knowing that it will be filled with arrows and wyverns soon.

“You were right, Svenn,” I say, my heart bunching up in my throat. “The war has begun.”

His features sharpen as he gazes at me. Then he suddenly bends down and kneels on one knee.

I draw in a deep breath at the sight. “Svenn?”

“I meant what I said earlier. You’re not alone anymore, Nel,” he says, his voice rough and beseeching. “You have me.”

My breath catches over those words.

He holds me captive with that gaze for several tortuous beats, his eyes smoldering like molten metal. “If you want to save your kingdom, I’ll stand right beside you. If you decide it’s not fucking worth it anymore, I’ll be there to torch it to the ground with you. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” I repeat numbly.

“Whatever you wish for, I’ll fulfill it. Even if it damns me.” He looks at me with so much love that I can barely contain all of it in my fragile heart. I don’t want to use him like Curse Bearers did or the way Rainer wanted me to. But I do need his help.

I move closer and reach out to trace my fingertips on the jaw of this vampire who is offering me the world.

It’s not a fair ask.

“Help me protect the innocents.” My voice is small and shaky.

It feels strange at first, making that request, but relief soon streams through my system. My shoulder feels a lot lighter, like someone has removed half of the burden I carry there. He takes my hand and I relish in the comfort the gesture brings.

A smirk spreads across his face as he reads my expression. I don’t know what is written there, but whatever it is, it pleases him.

Svenn plants a chaste kiss on the rise of my knuckles and whispers, “As you wish, Nel.”