Never before had it been so cold and Freya´s tears froze on her cheek as she ran. By the stone wall she stopped to catch her breath and to look back at the castle, bracing herself when she looked up at the ruined window’s, thinking Wolf would be standing there and her heart sank when he wasn´t. This was all her stupid fault! She had hurt the only male she had ever loved and over nothing, simply over a childish, centuries old infatuation that paled in comparison to what she had felt with Wolf.
Even the river was harsh, its color a hostile dark blue. Unable to help it, Freya sank to her knees and started crying so hard she was almost convulsing. She thought that she would break in thousand pieces like this and wondered if she would ever manage to pick herself up again. She didn´t know what to do next, where would she go? Maybe she could stay with Ondina…
“Once more I find you weeping by a river,” a voice said just next to her. She felt a nauseating heat that made her choke and cough. Freya´s ears started ringing from fear and she jerked so hard, pain shot through her shoulder.
Swarog!
“I´m guessing it is because of yet another male. Am I not right, my strumpet?” he continued. He looked the same as before, only that this time she recognized the evil in him more easily. Freya tried diving for the river but he grabbed her hair, pulling it so hard she cried out. “Don´t worry, my fair one. I am wearing gloves. Swarog won´t burn you this time.” In a lower voice he added. “As long as you´re nice.”
Freya tried to scream but he slammed his hand over her mouth.
“Shut up,” he groused and pulled her hair again so that she thought her neck would break. “Look at what you´re making me do,” he said angrily. “I am trying to be civil, trying to be gracious…”
A muscle twitched in his mouth and he kicked at her legs for her to walk. But she couldn´t. A heavier snowstorm set before her eyes and there was so much ice below her feet, neither she nor Swarog could take a step without starting to slide. Swarog cursed and in his fury, flickers of fire shot out from his skin, hitting Freya in the face but she hardly noticed.
The frost was trying to protect her! In the distance she seemed to see the whole castle shaking as if out of anger. Would Wolf be coming for her? Freya prayed that he would.
“Is that hope I see in your eyes,” Swarog laughed, his strange auburn eyes lighting up with fire. “Such a useless feeling. No one will save you now.”
Freya sensed that he was trying to transport them but he was unable to. The snow was holding him back. He let out a frustrated scream that sounded like that of victim being burnt at the stake and then he pushed at her to continue walking.
“We will do this by foot,” Swarog hissed, “as was done in the olden days. Move,” he kicked her again. He was now doing something with the flakes, letting his sickening warmth burn them off and it made it easier to see. He had removed his hand from Freya´s mouth.
“Next time if I happen to find you by a river, it will be me who you will be wailing over, isn´t that so?” When Freya didn´t answer, he pressed his face against her shoulder and she screamed in agony.
“That´s right,” Swarog growled. “You will ignite in flaming throes for me, just as you should have done the first time.”
Freya bit down on her tongue so that she wouldn´t start tearing from the pain.
“Wolf will come for me,” she lied. Hoped. They were getting further and further away from the castle and Swarog was leading her up a hill.
“Let him. I will tell him that you are indebted to me because I ended your worthless, mortal life.” He frantically shook Freya. “Are you not happy that I have found you?” His tongue darted out, licking his lips. “I know you are, you have been waiting for my scorching presence.”
Freya didn´t answer, trying to put as much space between her and Swarog as possible but he was like a leech, clinging to her and making her feel filthy.
“How did you know where I was?” she asked and he smiled a disgusting smile.
“That god Dasha told me you were with the Frost Bringer.”
Freya wanted to hurl. How could Dasha have done that? They had never gotten along but Freya would have never thought she would stoop so low.
“Hurry!” Swarog growled. “Stop dragging your legs or I´ll burn you like you´re cattle.” An appalling expression showed up on his face as if he found the thought tantalizing. He was moving them further and further away from the river.
“How did you find Ice Falls?” Freya asked, trying to distract him.
Swarog jerked at her arm, almost popping her shoulder out of place, as they pushed through the snow.
“That´s a malicious little secret I´ll keep to myself, nosy one.”
“Few people know where it´s located. You must be very influential to have been able to find it.”
“Nobody is as influential as me,” Swarog agreed. “Except for Wryfell,” he added, glancing nervously around as if he feared that Wryfell was watching. “And maybe Lywra, but not really.”
“You don´t need Wryfell, you are the Warden of Fire and that means something,” she improvised.
“Do not sweet talk me!” Swarog said, his face distorting in a grimace. “Your god wiles don´t work on Swarog. I have existed, longer than you can comprehend. I am untouchable and immune to fraudulence…”
“But I really mean it,” Freya said and Swarog stopped for a while. “Don´t you want everyone to know that you´re the brains behind the battle of the realms and not Wryfell?”
“That would be a fantasy come true, for sure,” Swarog hissed feverishly. Drops of sweat slipped down his forehead,
