Page 94 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
“I might have failed to mention a few things but at least you’re out of that dungeon,” the demon says carelessly.
“I’d rather stay there!” A ferocious growl erupts from Svenn. His voice darkens to a dangerous edge.
“You’re fucking free now, dammit!” Kheirall shrugs.
The Demon Lord doesn’t understand. This isn’t freedom. It’s servitude. The Arawynn vows meant nothing the moment I conveniently inherited the Rhunhraefn.
With a single order…
No.
With just a simple thought I can bend this vampire to my will. I shudder at the complete dominion I have over Svenn. The whole thing must seem like a betrayal to him.
His grip tightens, cutting off Kheirall’s air supply. The demon’s pet crow caws in distress, fearing for its master’s life.
“Svenn!” I call to him.
His punishing gaze turns to me. The intensity of that stare freezes me in place. His jaw is set, as if the very sight of me disgusts him.
I search for traces of the man I met yesterday, the one who holds me like I’m the most precious thing in the whole world.
“I’m going to keep my promise.” It’s the only thing I can think to say.
“The elven marriage bond, Arawynn, or whatever the hell this is… it means nothing, and you know it,” he rasps, his voice strained. The skin over the vow on his wrist is red and raw. It looks as if he tried clawing it away.
I reach for his hand to heal it, but he recoils from my touch. This hurts more than I thought it would.
Look at him…cowering before us like a broken dog.One of the curse’s vessels laughs in my ear. I shove her into another casket next to Lilith. A warning to the rest of them in case they try to speak again.
Svenn glances at me and frowns, as if he is waiting for something. I release a shaky breath when he removes his sharp gaze.
“This isn’t over,” he snarls at the demon before stalking off towards the trees.
“Are you alright?” I ask Kheirall after a while.
“I’m fine.” He offers me a pained smile.
The demon is definitely not fine. I touch the red markings on his neck to restore him. Weariness begins to seep into me. I’m running out of blessings.
We both turn at Ragnar’s approach.
“What’s up with the buzzed hair?” the Demon Lord asks his second. “You gave him an asshole’s haircut.”
“He recognized the style from the human’s viking age,” Ragnar says easily. “It’s the least I can do for the guy in exchange for—”
Kheirall’s crow continues its harsh crying, flying to perch on his shoulder.
“Kevin says we don’t have a home now. What the fuck does that even mean?” Kheirall narrow his eyes.
“The vampire… Svenn destroyed half of the castle,” Ragnar reports in a level, calm tone.
“What?”
“Don’t panic. Your libraries and books are safe,” the Berserker adds quickly. “I traded them for the haircut.”
“Some bargain you made there.” Kheirall exhales.
“And, also, for your life. He was going to rip off your head.”
