best if my wife and I retire.”
I turned stiltedly to him, tipped my head back and glared more daggers at him.
He looked down at me, completely impervious to my mental daggers then crossed his arms on his chest.
“Understandable, Drakkar,” Dad mumbled then I felt him coming close to me as he continued to mumble, “It’s been a long day for you both.”
I wiped my face clean, turned to him and smiled what I hoped was close to genuinely as he leaned in and kissed my cheek distractedly.
But as his lips brushed my skin, I felt their touch like they were lasers. I closed my eyes at the beautiful pain and kept them closed as I memorized it.
Then he moved away and I opened my eyes to see Mom gazing at me, the skin around her eyes and mouth soft, her expression, however, was blank but I could tell she was thinking, about what, I didn’t know.
Then she moved in and I braced because although she’d been okay during dinner, I didn’t know what to expect.
But I would have never expected her to give me a warm, albeit very short hug and say to me during it, “It’s so lovely to have you back, my dear.”
Then without further ado, as my mind imprinted the feel of her arms around me, they bid Frey a far less familiar but still relatively friendly yet definitely watchful (see? way weird) goodnight and they took off.
I watched them go.
Great.
Frey grabbed my hand and started dragging me to the stairs.
Great again!
I let him because I wasn’t going to fight him out where servants, such as, say, Viola could see. I let him because it was undignified to struggle and Mom taught me never to lose my dignity and all that jazz but I was a princess in this world so that had become a moral imperative as everyone knew all princesses should do their utmost to keep their dignity. And, lastly, I let him because it sucked but I knew if I fought I would so totally lose.
He dragged me up the stairs and directly to my rooms, in through the door and he closed it behind us softly then leaned against it, arms crossed on his chest.
I had walked in several steps and turned to him and, seeing him settle, I crossed my arms on my chest.
Then I spoke.
“I’m afraid after living the simple life for nearly two months, all that rich food and wine have made me unwell, husband,” I informed him, chin up, shoulders straight. “Although it was served with great skill,” I watched his eyes flare as he caught my meaning, though it would have been hard to miss, “it’s not sitting well in my stomach. I’ll thank you to leave me to my bed and find your own chambers…” I paused then finished, “immediately.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw scarily before he returned in a quiet, deadly voice, “You’re my wife, Finnie. What’s yours is mine and that includes your bed.”
“All right,” I returned instantly, “however, tonight, considering I feel unwell and this place is gargantuan and highly populated, I’m sure for my sake you’ll be able to find somewhere else to sleep. Or, perhaps, not sleep depending on whose bed you fall in.”
That muscle ticked again, it scared the freaking beejeezus out of me mostly because the air in the room was stifling from the heat of Frey’s anger but I ignored it and held his eyes.
This lasted a long time and I was about to give up and look away when he spoke again in that soft, lethal tone.
“I will take the time to explain a few things to you, wife. And I’ll take this time before I peel off that charming dress you’re wearing to finally discover what you wear under it and after that I’ll peel off what you wear under your gowns to finally see the entirety of your charms. And after that I may or may not take my time to finally enjoy the entirety of those charms.”
I felt my chest swell with panic but I kept my stance, held his gaze and kept my mouth shut.
“I am Frey Drakkar,” he announced oddly but his voice held weight. “And you know this, Finnie, you know,” he stressed, his eyes flashing with anger, his voice rumbling with it, “but I’ll explain what that means.”
Ho boy.
I had a feeling this was not going to be good.
He kept talking. “There has not been a Frey of the Drakkar for centuries. In ancient times, every generation birthed a Frey. That was, until one Frey betrayed the elves, betrayed his line and betrayed his country. The elves retreated to their underground realm, not to be seen for centuries. That was, not until my birth to the House of Drakkar and the Vallees declarations that I was, indeed, the first Frey for seven hundred and fifty years.”
I had no idea what he was talking about but I still sucked in a shocked breath because, obviously, that sounded important not to mention interesting.
“But the Vallees did not simply declare me the Frey. They also declared me The Drakkar.”
I kept his gaze and kept my mouth shut, hoping despite myself he’d go on because I still had no idea what he was talking about.
Luckily (or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it), Frey went on. “This land and the House of Drakkar have not had A Drakkar for over fifteen hundred years.”
Hmm.
That was obviously important and interesting too.
Frey kept speaking. “And the Frey and The Drakkar have not been embodied in the same man since before ancient times. The gods… they learned not do that. It would make one man too powerful. Even, if that man commanded his power right, more powerful than them.”
That was when I sucked in breath and held it.
Oh my God.
I didn’t know what that meant, exactly, I just knew it was big.
“As you know, the Frey commands the elves but The Drakkar, it is The Drakkar, my wee wife, who commands the dragons.”
I let out my breath but I couldn’t stop my eyes from growing wide.
Dragons?
Frey kept going. “Over fifteen hundred years ago, after the last Drakkar died, the dragons entered their caves high in the mountains where no one can climb. They entered them to slumber and await the next call of their Drakkar. That call has not come for there has been no true Drakkar birthed to the House of my line. Not until me.”
Now I was breathing heavily and staring at him because I couldn’t pull my eyes away.
“The elves magic is powerful, mighty, more than any witch in any land. More than the combined powers of the most accomplished witches of all lands. But the dragons… their power is without measure. They are immortal. Their scales cannot be pierced. Their talons are sharper than razors and cannot be broken. Their teeth and horns and the spikes on their tails are tipped with poison they can discharge at their command, poison so strong, a drop would fell an elephant in seconds. And their tail carries so much strength one swipe and it would cut your Palace in two, leaving splinters in its wake. They are bigger than a house and they fly through the air. And I know, my Finnie, I know you know the tales of the heat of the fire they breathe.”
I kept breathing hard, it wasn’t fire but it burned my lungs and I continued staring at him, not moving a muscle.
Even though he said I knew, he explained anyway. “That heat would incinerate a man in less than a second. It melts iron like candle wax. It could remold mountains.”
Oh.
My.
God.
“And all of that, my wee wife, all of it is at my command.”
Oh.
