Page 3 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
A prayer. To the seventy-seven holy gods and goddesses of Aelfheim.
Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me. Help me.
It’s embarrassing.
I should be the one to kill the Fae King. Instead, I am reaching out for a miracle, for a knight in shining armor. No matter how shameful this is, I keep calling to the heavens.
Save me.
Someone. Anyone.
As always, my prayer goes unanswered. I close my eyes and wait for the cold embrace of death.
But it never comes.
I run my hands over my body. Everything is intact. Eirik’s sword did not pierce through my gut. I open my eyes and lift my head to look at my foe. He stares at me with a confusion that mirrors my own. His lips part with a silent scream as he lowers his gaze to the gaping hole in his chest.
The Fae King’s limp body falls to the ground. A feral shriek grits from the Nythe at the sight of its master before the creature too is silenced.
The ferocious wyvern lays headless on the ground, decapitated. I blink at the gruesome sight before me.
Someone answered my prayer; or something.
A man stands in the darkness of the night with Eirik’s beating heart in his hand.
I fight against the blinding pain for a glimpse of him. I can’t quite see his house sigil. The warrior is only clad in his leather breeches. There is no way of telling if he is an enemy or ally.
A fae? An elf?
I honestly don’t care.
The man turns to me, his eyes solemn and intent, like a predator sampling his prey. There’s a chance that this male may kill me too.
I take in a shuddering breath as he crouches next to me. He runs his callused hand over my thigh to assess my wound. I don’t flinch at his touch, not even as he rips the leather coveringmy leg. The stranger speaks to me in a language I do not comprehend but my heart seems to understand the meaning.
“You are safe.”I hear the male say.“But this is going to hurt.”
He lunges straight for my legs, taking a bite just above the cut. A sharp gasp leaps out of my throat the moment his teeth sink into my flesh. I thrash and kick from his grip, struggling to break free. It’s as useless as fighting a wall. I force myself to take a deep breath to calm down. If he was a scavenging goblin, I would have been dead by now. The pain gradually ebbs away replaced by a delicious sensation. I think this guy is tending to my injury… in his own weird way.
“Stay with me, little fawn.”His dark voice fills the night.
My long silver hair spills to the ground as he removes the stag helm of House Wiolant from my head. I watch the muscles of his throat shift as he stares down at me.
“Hi,” I greet him tenuously. The blood loss must be taking effect now. I feel so light-headed and foggy.
“Sorry, I had to give you a higher dose,”he says with a low chuckle.
An unbidden shiver goes through me when he gathers me into his arms, lifting me up. His scent is enticing and comforting. It’s like the woods and the ocean breeze back home. I melt into his warm embrace. He settles down under a desiccated oak tree, clutching me closer to his chest.
The Fae King is dead.
It’s not my victory but I am relieved. All around us the battle rages on. Eirik’s death doesn’t stop the flames from licking every inch of Aelfheim’s walls and buildings. There will be nothing left of my kingdom but ashes. Sorrow grips its claws in me, sending tremors to every bone.
The warrior hauls me closer to him to keep me from the wind. I dare a glance at the person who saved me. It’s an effortto reach his cheek with my injury so I plant a kiss on his jaw instead. The feathery kind princesses would bestow upon their champion.
“Thank you,” I whisper to his rippled chest.
His dark gaze falls on me for a long moment. What I gave him was barely a kiss and yet desire flares in his molten eyes. A strange ache settles in my chest over that look. His lips are so close to mine, so tempting and alluring. I try lifting my head for another shot at it.
