Page 84 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
I shake my head.
The blade descends on us both. I am unharmed, but the wolf is no more.
“No!” My maddening scream pierces the night air.
Several colossal crystalline enclosures are pushed to the center. I know exactly the kind of monsters the salt prisons are meant to keep. I’ve seen a glimpse of them through Kheirall’s gate.
The Fallens.
Even dwellers of the Hollow are not spared from this horrible ritual. I try to help them, but all my attempts are futile. I’ve never felt more like a failure. There’s nothing else to do but follow the men carrying the chalices towards the keep.
Anger fills me as I storm through the door. Why are they doing this? I rush past the dark, stained walls straight into the main hall.
A deep pool at the lies at the center, filled with blood of the sacrifices. Lounging near the edge is a beautiful woman with long blonde hair. Her heavy fur robe falls from her slender shoulders, revealing a dress as scarlet as her lips.
“Is it done?” she asks demurely. I am sure she is speaking no language I know, but somehow I understand her.
The man in black gives her a satisfactory answer.
She claps her hands with delight. “Fantastic. Now bring me my boys.”
The guards shove five men into the room. They are chained over their hands and ankles, their heads covered with a bag. The men are forced to kneel in front of the witch.
Are they lined up to be killed too? I can’t watch this anymore.
The dark-skinned man on the right end seems to struggle the most. A nod from the witch and a guard takes off the drape covering the man’s face.
“I take it back. This is not what I want,” the man says desperately the moment they remove the cloth stuffed in his mouth. Sweat trickles down his beautiful face. The wicked enchantress strides towards him.
“You wanted to know if there is life after death,” she croons, running her finger sensually from his temple to his jaw. “Knowledge comes with a price, Bas.”
“I’ll do anything if you let him go,” the prisoner in the middle says. I know that voice.
Svenn?
I go as still as death the moment they reveal his face. His hair is shorter, but there’s no mistaking the strong, sharp lines that outline his handsome features. He is my Svenn. It’s taking all of my willpower not to run to the man and shield him from her.
I know now that this is something I must witness.
“Do you truly mean that?” She prowls closer to him. Those sharp, wicked eyes roam over him and it sickens me.
“You’ll have my undying loyalty,” Svenn says in a single breath.
Her gaze shifts to the lean young man crying beside Svenn. “You’re right. Maybe Ruth is not cut out for this.”
“Spare my brother. Take me,” he offers again.
She seems to consider his request for a moment.
“But why should I when I can take you both?” She laughs cruelly.
The warlocks force the men to drink some strange concoction from a silver, ornamented goblet.
“Don’t do this Lill—” The young male’s words are cut short as the dagger tears through his windpipe. His body falls to the ground in a soundless scream. One by one, they all fall.
I stand there, watching. My heart is in my throat.
Svenn is the last to go. His vengeful stare never wavers, even as the knife slides through his throat.
