Page 102 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
“There is no guarantee of that, is there?” A dark frown forms on the vampire’s face. “I’m coming with you.”
He sounds weary, like he has already had the same conversation in his head a million times.
The curse has caused Svenn unimaginable suffering. Here I am parading in front of him as the embodiment of that horror. I try putting myself in his place. It must be painful, frustrating.
“My people don’t trust you. They want me to—”
“Go ahead. Chain me like a proper prisoner.” He offers me his wrists. His perfectly carved face betrays no emotion at all.
Pressure builds behind my eyes as I place the binding. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to hurt him in any way. It’s just for show, I convince myself. He can escape at any time. But the sight of him in fetters…
If I was in his place, I would hate me too. What was done to him in the past was horrible. I know he doesn’t believe me, but I still say, “I will keep my promise, Svenn.”
Something in him fractures at my words. The look on his face makes him seem almost vulnerable.
“You heard her. Rhianelle is a fair queen. She will honor the bargain you made for the Arawynn bond,” Kheirall says, stepping into the courtyard.
An unearthly growl ripples from the vampire.
To the demon’s credit, he does not flinch. I look between the two males, hoping they won’t start killing each other again.
Ragnar’s appearance immediately eases my anxiety. “The Elven Queen is telling the truth. I vouch for her with my life.”
That solemn vow warms my heart to its core. I feel a little undeserving of such devotion from him.
“You can’t rely on the pendant forever. Eventually, you’ll have to learn their language,” the berserker demon continues. “I took the liberty of loading the carriage with some books. You have the history of the past millennium to catch up on.”
“Thank you,” Svenn responds smoothly.
His interaction with Ragnar is surprisingly civil. I’m fond of the berserker too. I gave him a giant bear hug earlier for the chest filled with grimoires and tablets.
Kheirall gives the vampire a long look. “Your destiny is entwined with the Elven Queen. Embrace this fate. Serve her.”
“Like I have a choice,” Svenn grinds out the words through clenched teeth, his hostility returning. He gives me a lingering look before leaving us to join the envoy. My heart leaps as if it wants to follow him wherever he goes.
I grip the vows on my hand to distract myself from jumping on that broad, muscular back. I wonder if this strange pull I have for him has something to do with the Arawynn bond or the curse. It’s hurting me to the point of pain now.
“He may need time to adjust. Perhaps he should stay with you?” I say to the demons.
“Nonsense. He’s yours now,” Kheirall says with a wide grin, flashing his perfect teeth. “Vampires move easily with the change of time. It’s part of their survival skills.”
“I share the queen’s worry,” Ragnar says, a fierce frown forming on his face. “Some vampires may have strange gifts, like mind reading or compulsion. I’ve even met those that can conjure fire and water out of thin air.”
“His power is not telepathy. We’ve seen the shadow vines.” Kheirall shrugs carelessly.
Ragnar lets out a long exhale. “He is the True Sire. A Strigon might have more than one gift.”
Kheirall merely scoffs at the idea. “Why don’t you go and ask your new friend directly then?”
“Perhaps I should,” Ragnar says, striding past the Demon Lord.
I watch as he catch up to walk with the vampire as if they hadn’t tried to kill each other several nights ago.
A sense of terror grips me over the demons’ conversation.
Vampires and their gifts.
I don’t tell them that Svenn has all the powers of the creatures that were sacrificed to make him.
