Page 106 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
She shoves her rapier straight through the orc’s neck. There is a flicker of hesitation in that strike. It is only for a moment, but a moment is long enough for the orc to shift position slightly and for the queen to hit the jugular instead of the carotid.
Blood splutters from the ogre’s severed vein. He lifts his massive weapon frantically, throwing Rhianelle high towards the sky. I can tell she’s planning to dive down and ram the rapier straight into the orc’s skull.
Her stance when she decided to face the pale demon finally made sense. She wasn’t suicidal or trying to sacrifice herself. Rhianelle Wiolant does not rely on brute force. She uses her opponent’s strength against them.
But I don’t share her confidence that the thin ceremonial sword she wields is going to do much damage to the orc’s thick skin. I have no interest in letting her take that risk. Not when the beast is flailing randomly with a neck wound. Most of all I want her to finish this dance with me.
I dash forward and smash the creature’s skull to the ground.
Rhianelle lands gracefully like a feather into my arms. It’s like the moment is suspended in the fabric of time. There is no one else in the universe but us.
“He’s dead…” she muses. Her eyelashes blink slowly as she studies the mess I made on the ground. “I could have handled that myself.”
“I know. I got impatient,” I reply, stepping away from the bloodbath. I can’t take my eyes off her. The Elven Queen’s returning gaze is mesmerizing and almost hypnotic.
Shit… I’m losing it.
“You can put me down now,” she says softly.
“No.”
Chapter 32 Svenn
“What do you mean ‘no’? She wrinkles her forehead. “I need to help them.”
The queen is a skilled fighter. That’s no surprise. Most elves I’ve met are. But I’m not taking any chances. I carry her away from the clash into the forest.
“Take me back!” She meets my gaze without flinching, her pupils dilating with anger. No one ever does that.
But instead of staring daggers, she can just order me with the curse. A single command from her and I will tear apart my own ribcage and lay my heart at her feet.
The Queen of Elves doesn’t even have to utter it aloud, Rhianelle Wiolant could simply wish it and whatever misfortune she desires would fall upon me. I am lower than a servant.
A slave in mind, body, and soul.
I braced myself for the lashing, for the guillotine to fall. But the pain never comes.
Rhianelle is scratching, clawing, and fighting me to go help the people who are supposed to be protecting her. Her spirited struggle means nothing against my firm grasp on her waist.
She shoots me a glare. “Let me go, Svenn.”
Never.
The girl tries to head-butt me. I evade it easily, but the swing must have still hurt her pretty little head.
“They’ve got this,” I say flatly. I honestly don’t give a damn about the rest of them.
She glances over my shoulder to check on her people. Something about the way she looks at her knights fills me with a murderous wrath. I almost want to kill them before the orcs do.
“Are you going to calm down?” I ask, ignoring her fists pounding against my chest.
“No.”
I hold my breath over the defiance in those eyes. She squeals when I all but lift her and hoist her over my shoulder.
Her fight pauses for a second.
“Svenn! You have arrows in your back!” She taps me repeatedly. Her struggle grows feistier than before. I fling her right back once we’re deep enough into the woods.
