Page 59 of The Frost Queen's Blade

“That was my father’s ring,” said Rune, casually. “King Rafe cut it from his finger. I watched him do it through all the blood. When the fighting broke out, I got in his way. He gave me this scar.” He tapped the jagged white line that marred his face.

Elma’s world seemed to fall around her, blurring and morphing into something familiar, yet altogether foreign. What did she truly know of her own kingdom, her own family, this crown she’d been born to wear?They were right, she thought with wild misery,I’m not ready to be queen. Nausea roiled in her gut.

Rune’s mouth, so close to hers, was set in a grim line. Was this it, then? He had been waiting to reveal this horror to her, to weaken her with the truth of her father’s crimes, before he cut her down?

“Don’t look at me like that,” Rune said, softening. “I’m not going to hurt you. Not unless you ask me to.” But his lustful smirk was half-hearted. He reached out to her, his warm hand cupping her head, thumb against her jaw. “I thought you already knew. But something in your eyes today…” he shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “I was wrong about you,” he murmured. “I’ve known it for a long time. I will protect you, Queen Elma, with my life, if it means true peace between our kingdoms. You are not your father’s daughter.”

Grief, anger, and relief warred in Elma. She was ashamed, too, for not having known about her father’s true cruelty. For not fighting it in herself. For allowing that bloodlust to live in her, to take hold, even in the smallest moments. And above all, she now understood why Rune had come to kill her. Not just for revenge, but because she was a Volta. He had feared the thing she might become.

“Iammy father’s daughter,” she said at last, her voice small and wet with unshed tears. “It’s my duty to be better than he was. A better ruler. A better person. I’m trying—”

“Youare,” Rune said.

Then he kissed her, pulling her into a tight embrace, and his mouth felt like longing, his hands like forgiveness. “I have wanted you,” he murmured, lifting her up and carrying her into the bedroom, “since the moment I first heard your voice. I have dreamt every night of tasting you, of hearing my name on your lips.”

The words were like fire in Elma’s belly, where a deep ache was already forming.

“Even in the dungeon?” she asked, unable to stop herself.

Rune tossed her onto the bed and crawled over her, lowering himself slowly to cover her body with his. “Even in the dungeon,” he murmured, biting the soft lobe of her ear. “Even in the Death Games. I saw you in the stands, and your eyes were so cold. I wanted you even then.”

Elma groaned, pulling him against her. He was already hard, and she was hot and wet with want.

“Now, now,” he crooned, nuzzling her neck, allowing the fingers of one hand to trail down her dress and circle her breast. “Not tonight.” He brushed her nipple with a soft thumb, eliciting a soft whimper from Elma. “If I touch you… I won’t be able to stop. And we need rest before our journey. I need to be at my best to protect you.”

“Please,” she gasped, already delirious with Rune’s smell, the heat of his body, his deep voice rumbling through her. She arched her back and lifted her hips to press herself harder against his erection. She needed this distraction.

“You’re relentless, Your Majesty,” Rune said, but even as he spoke, he slid his hand underneath her, lifting her hips as he ground down into her. “But imagine,” he said, his breath tickling her ear, “if you came… just like this. Layers of clothes between us. Simply because you couldn’t help yourself.”

The rising need inside Elma was insatiable. It was too much. She craved release, the euphoric comfort of it. She cravedRune. She wanted him inside her, tasting her, his hands and his mouth all over her. But if she couldn’t have that, if he wouldn’t let her…

He rocked against her, kissing her neck where he’d bit her before. It was sore, but the pain only fed the rising tide of Elma’s pleasure. The pressure between her legs was building to a crescendo. Rune lifted her hips with one hand, holding her to him, rolling her slowly against the erection that strained under his breeches. His seeking mouth found her earlobe, and he bit down softly on her tender skin.

All too easily, Elma fell over the edge.

Rune held her against him as she rode the wave of white-hot pleasure, her sobbing breaths muffled in his neck. And then he kissed her, raised himself up on his elbows, and said, “Are you always like this, or is it just me?”

Elma closed her eyes, still breathing hard, the spasms of release still fading. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, because more tender words wouldn’t come. Then a sudden fear took hold of her, that he would leave her. That she would fall asleep alone, and wake in the morning to find him gone. A figment, a dream.

“Stay,” she saidbefore she lost her nerve.

“Your men will be just outside,” said Rune, misreading the look in her eyes.

“No,” she said, “I…”I don’t want to be alone.

“Oh,” said Rune. “You want me tostay?”

“How many times must I say it?” Elma asked. “Don’t make me hate you more than I already do.”

He grinned, gently moving a lock of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. “Of course, I’ll stay.”

Elma fell asleep that night with Rune’s arm draped over her, his breaths steady against her back. And while she could think of a thousand reasons why this was a bad idea, why this would only end in misery and pain, her only feeling in that too-brief moment was a soft and gentle peace.

Twenty-Five

Two dozen men were to accompany Elma and Rune to Slödava: Luca, Hugh, and a regiment of guards hand-picked by Elma. They were Luca’s best men, guards who had been at her side and protected her for years. Godwin had been adamant that Elma ought to bring some of his personal men, men who excelled at navigation and survival, but Elma was stubborn — the guards would be her own. And if they turned on her, she would have no one to blame but herself.

Elma did her best not to think about the dangers of attack, from enemies, the natural cataclysms that might occur over the course of their three-day journey north, or even from within her own ranks. The path would lead them across the Frozen Sea, avoiding the well-traveled paths in the hopes of avoiding rumored camps of highwaymen.

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