Freya looked at him in surprise. “You´re mortal?”
“I am immortal,” Wolf said and he sounded almost offended. “But yes, my mother and my first father were humans, if that is what you mean.”
“Did your mother take care of you when you were small?” He shook his head and she could tell by the way he was holding his body that he hated talking about this but she couldn´t stop pressing, suddenly curious about him. “Did the Frost Giant take care of you then?”
Freya hid the shiver that she felt by the sheer thought. Frost Giants were enormous beings, with white eyes and icy bodies that could resemble snow, so that they easily could camouflage themselves. They didn´t speak and were more similar to animals than immortals.
“Frost Giants are by nature cold and so is everything about them.” He pressed his lips. “The Frost Giant did not take care of me.”
Freya understood what he meant. That Frost Giants were unable to form devoted feelings. Was Wolf? She looked at him. His skin was slightly darker than hers so she knew that he was made out of flesh and blood. She´d felt his heart beat beneath her fingers and when he´d saved her from the Ogres, she had seen him fight brutally…for her.
“What are you staring at?” he asked, suddenly brusque and she blushed a little.
“Nothing, just thinking about how everyone says that you´re so cold.” She tilted her head to the side. “But you don´t seem that cold to me.”
“You´re mistaken,” he said severely. “I am.”
“I don´t believe you,” Freya said in a cheery voice and he shot her a glance full of longing that she bit her lip and looked away, ignoring her pulse quickening.
“You should have told me you were a mortal,” Freya said, to change the subject. “I like mortals, they´re my favorites.”
“Once again I am not a mortal. And I´m not surprised you like them. I´ve seen what you do to them with my own eyes, rub on them, tickle them and frost knows what else…”
“Still haven´t let that go, have you?” Freya sighed and then said. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that the boys tend to smell like coconut sun lotion?” Her nose wrinkled. “And that always makes me wheeze.”
“Doesn´t seem to stop you, though,” Wolf said and she shrugged.
“It is what it is.”
“Used to be perhaps,” Wolf said and his shoulders were stiff. “But not anymore. Not ever.”
“Not even with you?” Freya asked innocently but gasped when he rose so quickly from his chair, his contours were just a blur. Freya held her breath but then he stopped a couple of inches in front of her and lifted a strand of her hair. He rubbed it between his fingers with an absent expression on his face.
“Beautiful,” he said in low voice and Freya felt warmth bloom in her stomach. She wondered if he was going to kiss her and she was positive that he would. Seductively she licked her lips, knowing that their light pink color would lure him in but then he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the chair and she squealed in surprise.
“What are you doing?”
“There is work for you to do,” he snarled, pulling her away from the harp and she stared at it longingly.
“But I wasn´t done. There´s so many songs I want to play.”
“You have a whole lifetime in front of you, playing on that harp,” he said and she stiffened. Lifetime? “And I will let you continue to play if you do your job well.”
“My job well?” Freya said with a raised eyebrow, as they passed great hallways with soft, white carpets and chandeliers in the ceiling. They walked up an enormous staircase. “You don´t expect me to clean this castle for you, do you? I don´t see how that will help in defeating Wryfell.”
His lips didn´t even curve with a slight smile.
“This isn´t a joking matter,” he muttered. “This is life and death and I have to say I´m surprised that you don´t seem to care much about your own life. Perhaps you do want Wryfell to take over the Three Realms?”
Not necessarily, but she didn´t quite see Wryfell as her problem. All she cared about was the end of Swarog. Her fingers itched at the thought of his death. Her old tormentor would finally get what he deserved and not to mention, Freya would get what she deserved too. Centuries had passed with her wanting to dream about Philip but her sleep had always been hijacked with nightmares about Swarog. But soon even that would come to an end…
“Did you hear what I said?” Wolf asked, jerking her arm lightly and she pressed her lips.
“I´m a god, we´re just silly river lovers. We´re not that complicated.”
He continued to the right, pulling her with him up a narrow, spiraling staircase as he took three steps at a time. No match for him considering he was enormous but Freya had a hard time keeping up and he looked down on her.
“Somehow I don´t believe you,” he said. “There´s a tricky look in your eyes that says otherwise.” Freya stopped breathing. What if Wolf figured out what it was that she wanted with him? If Wolf understood what was going on, then it would all be over. Freya could bet on the river that someone like Wolf did not appreciate being used.
“You don´t?” she tried with fluttering eyelashes. “How can I make you believe me then?” She trailed a finger down his hard chest and he bit down on his jaw.
“Are you that quick in trying to manipulate you way out this?” he asked. “If you think I´ll let you go out of the warmth of my cold heart then you will be disappointed.”
Just when Freya was about to protest, he shoved her inside a room and closed the door behind them. Cautiously Freya looked around, only to find the room empty. There was only a single
