I decide to take another bath.
A longer one this time to finish whatever cruel thing Svenn has kindled in between my legs.
I’ve been working hard with the offense aspect of my training, but not so much in the defense and protecting-my-heart part. I have the strangest urge to press my face on the nape of his neck and inhale his intoxicating scent, to trace my hand over the curved muscle of his abdomen.
These inappropriate thoughts are getting worse. He has been nothing but nice to me. And here I am, objectifying him like a pervert. I lay my head on the cool malachite stone of the tub, my finger tracing the moisture on the wall. My thoughts linger a lot on Svenn lately.
I wonder what kind of girl he likes…
You can always ask.The Rhunhraefn prompts me in the voices of the curse bearers merged as one.Take a peek.We’ll tell you all about him.
I ignore their dark whispers.
One command and he would be kneeling at your feet,the curse tempts again.
Their chatter sometimes tugs on my heartstrings, reminding me why Svenn will always hate me.
A woman materializes in my subconscious, wearing a grey robe and the skull of a boar covering her face.“We have a message from Lilith.”
“Leave me alone,” I mutter, a little annoyed. It must have taken her considerable energy to come to me.
Another appears, wearing the similar style garment with a vulture’s bone mask.“It’s an invitation. Let us give you a little show. You’re going to love it.”
They are not a threat to me. But I do not want to underestimate the Rhunhraefn.
“No, thank you,” I decline without giving her a second look. “Now go away—”
“We know you want him.”
A primal protectiveness courses through my blood. Lilith must be truly desperate if she’s relying on my feelings for Svenn to influence me.
“Let’s take a little tour, shall we?”The Boar coaxes me to come with them.“It’ll be worth your while, elven queen.”
I hesitate at the offer. It feels like a trap.
“What’s the harm?”The Vulture shrugs.
I suppose I can take a look. It’s not like they can do anything to me.
I follow them silently down a dark pathway. Dead leaves crunches beneath my feet as I trail behind them in silence. The two curse bearers stop in front of a red double door.
It gives easily with a gentle push, opening to a spacious bedroom. The furniture is elegant and the decoration is all tastefully done.
A dark-haired woman lounges on the bed, draped in a bright crimson dress. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Her voice is similar to the Boar’s.
This must be her memory.
The remark is not directed to me but to the man at the corner of the room. He steps out of the shadows, the candlelight catching the contours of his features.
His dark complexion, chiseled jaw, and lean build remind me of Lord Morcant, one of the warriors who served as my mother’s war general. But that’s all where the resemblance lies. While the general is noble and righteous, this man has a certain dangerous and intimidating presence about him.
His beauty is the kind possessed by wolves and serpents. After meeting Svenn, I know enough to be afraid of pretty things now.
This man is one of the Strigons made by the Rhunhraefn. I’ve always wondered what happened to them. But it’s not my place to ask if Svenn doesn’t want to talk of his past.
He is wearing an impassive expression as he stares at the woman in his bed. “What do you want?”
I’m wondering the same thing. What are they trying to show me?