Page 126 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
Rhianelle’s long ears twitch. She must have heard it too.
This stupid metal must be dropped at a temple so it can be sealed safely. It will take years of prayers by the holy priests and monks to banish such a hateful curse.
“I should take this off.” I manage.
“Wait. You look so good in it,” she quickly says.
I raise an eyebrow.
“I— I mean it fits you really well,” she stammers with her cheeks flushed. “Let me see what I can do.”
I damn near stop breathing when she climbs to kneel on my lap. A low grunt leaves my throat as her weight settles, pressing down on my thighs.
Her eyes flare for a moment. They narrow as she focuses on me. The girl has every right to lash at me. I will accept every punishment coming my way. If she wants to shove a spear through my heart, I will gladly help her.
“Go ahead. Do whatever you please.” I crane my neck to look up at her. Even in this position, she barely inches over me. Her unbound silver hair flows behind her in waves.
“Whatever I please?” Her soft face is tight as she glances down at me.
Rhianelle slowly slides her small hands up my chest, settling them on my shoulders. I watch her with absolute stillness as she hovers on top of me like a radiant dream.
“Anything,” I breathe out, reining in my desire for her. I place my hand on her slender waist.
She gently rests her forehead against mine, bracketing my neck with her hands. A shiver goes through me at the touch. The good kind that makes my erection strain against my breeches.
Death by strangulation. Is this to be my punishment?
She kisses my eyes, each one with infinite tenderness. No words pass between us but a more intimate feeling other than lust stirs in me.
And then she strikes.
Her small hands close upon something resting on my shoulder. The movement is refined if not a little odd and hilarious. Like a cat pouncing on a mouse.
“It’s done,” she chirps brightly.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
She carefully brings it over in front of my face. But there is nothing to see when she opens her palms.
“I’ve purified it,” she says, slapping my shoulder plate playfully. “You can keep the armor now. Go on, feel it.”
My nose detects a light singe in the air but every trace of the hideous presence on the metal plate is gone.
“It’s just a little worm. I’ve squished it.” She blinks and makes a gesture with her hand which I can only assume means a good sign.
I stare at the Elven Queen in utter disbelief.
“I have to meet my uncle and my knights now,” she chimes with a radiant smile, hopping off from my lap. I immediately miss her warmth.
She clears her throat before speaking again. “We should go. Aelfric will get mad if we’re not on schedule.”
I keep staring at the entrance long after she leaves the tent, feeling completely stupefied.
Worm?
Chapter 37 Rhianelle
Iwake to the familiar scent of a warm ocean breeze and the sensation of a powerful arm curling across my abdomen.
