Ruined King (Night Elves Trilogy Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  I’d spent years honing my fighting skills, and none honing my diplomacy skills. If I couldn’t talk him out of it, I’d fight him out of it.

  I ran for him, grabbing the wrist of the hand that held the crystal. His grip was pure steel, so I slammed a punch into his cheek. His face snapped back, and the feral look he gave me nearly made my heart skip a beat. He growled, pulling his wrist out of my grasp.

  “You’re not doing this, Galin.” I ran at him again, knocking him back hard into the stone.

  He slammed back into the wall. The force was enough to shake the rock. This time, the shard clattered to the ground, and I snatched it up. I had the shard. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

  But Galin was charging for me, and he pushed me back against the wall. He gripped my wrist, pinning it against the cold stone. His strength was, quite frankly, ridiculous.

  His gaze flicked to the shard. “I’m going to need that, my Night Elf. I have a plan.”

  “Your plan is stupid.”

  His face was close to mine, mouth inches away. Runes glowed on his powerful chest. The corner of his lip twitched. “Did you really think you could beat The Sword of the Gods in a fight?”

  “Do you really call yourself that? You have got to be kidding me.” I slammed a knee into his gut, and he staggered back.

  I still had the shard of vergr crystal.

  I didn’t know exactly what I was doing here, only that I’d managed very successfully to distract him from trying to kill himself. And frankly, I could fight him all day. He didn’t get hurt easily. It was exhilarating, and maybe I liked having his body pressed against mine …

  Snarling, I leapt at him. But he was leaping for me, too. We collided hard. But with his greater weight, the impact pushed me backward. Together, we slammed into the wall. At the last moment, he managed to cup his hand behind me to soften the blow against the stone, stopping my back from cracking against it. His other hand was just below my ass, gripping me tight. Just like at the battlefield, my legs were wrapped around his waist.

  I breathed deeply, my pulse racing out of control as I looked up at him. He peered into my eyes, the gaze sliding right into my very soul.

  He seemed to have forgotten all about the crystal blade now, and his lips grazed my neck. The sensation sent wild heat racing through my body. After the fierceness of our little tussle, the kiss was so excruciatingly gentle. With every brush of his lips, I felt desire building in me, a wild need.

  “Galin,” I whispered.

  In response, he kissed my throat, and I arched my neck. Now, my hips were moving against him.

  “A kiss before I have to go,” he whispered huskily.

  “You’re not going.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to mine. It was a desperate kiss, wild and hungry. The kiss deepened, and I could feel it, then. Our souls entwined.

  I wasn’t sure if I’d ever before felt so alive. Every inch of my skin felt sensitive, ready for his touch.

  While he held me against the wall, I reached down and began untying the straps of my armor. Then, I unwrapped my legs from him and unclasped my bra, revealing my breasts while he stared. He pulled off my trousers, then my underwear, his fingers skimming over my skin in a way that made my heart race. The cool air of the well kissed my skin, and I flashed him a seductive smile.

  He stared at me for a moment, his smile sensual. “You are so beautiful.”

  Then, a fierce expression overtook his features. I reached out, undoing his trousers. As I did, he kissed me desperately, hungrily, like he’d find the meaning of life through our kiss.

  When he was as naked as I was, I threaded my fingers into his hair, kissing him back, ready for more.

  “You’re perfect,” he whispered.

  For a moment, I pulled away from the kiss, and I gazed into his golden eyes. My pulse raced even faster as I read his desire there, his need for me. And something I hadn’t yet noticed in his expression before. Normally so fierce—I saw a hint of vulnerability. He needed me, and he seemed to be searching my eyes for answers.

  He slid his hands under my ass, and lifted me against the wall again. With his mouth on my throat, he left a trail of searing kisses along my skin, moving down toward my breasts. He was touching me, caressing me where I needed to feel him. As he held me up, I rocked my hips into him, against his hardness. I arched my back. A wild ache had built within me, and I found myself desperate with need. “Come on, Galin.”

  He thrust into me, holding me up against the vergr crystals. Pleasure rocketed through me in waves, and I was soaring. I could feel his heart beating against mine, powerful and alive. His thrusts strengthened, fingers tightening around me.

  To think I’d once wanted to stop that heart. To think I could fight what the Norns had written for me. His existence had a magnetic pull to me, and I would keep him alive at all costs.

  I moved with him, crying out with the ecstasy of my release, and he moaned into my neck. I felt shockwaves shuddering through my body, and I leaned on his chest, catching my breath. I stared into his pale eyes, determined to keep him safe no matter what.

  Chapter 40

  Galin

  Ali lay next to me, asleep. It was cold in the cave, and she’d curled up close for warmth. While she slept, I was thinking of becoming a lich again.

  I couldn’t bear to part with her just yet, but I could see what the future held. We would only have a few days before we succumbed to dehydration. Did I really want our last moments together to be unquenchable thirst and delirium?

  Unless there was something else I could do …

  Covering Ali in my shirt, I slipped back to the mouth of the cave. Quietly, I peered into the well. It was just as it was before. Dark above and below, sheer rockface, illuminated only by the faint purplish glow from behind me.

  I heard footfalls, then Ali jerked my arm back. “Don’t even think about it.” She pulled me back from the ledge. “Not yet.” She heaved a sigh as she sat down next to me.

  I sighed. “I’ll give it time.”

  Ali slid her arm through mine and leaned into me. “Can you explain to me why the king hates the Night Elves so much?”

  “He said he blamed you all for Ragnarok, but I wasn’t sure if he believed it. Having an enemy worked well for him politically at the time. You were the perfect scapegoat to blame for the suffering of the High Elves after they left Elfheim.” A beating sound high above pulled my attention away. Fear, anticipation made my muscles tense. “Do you hear that? Is it—”

  “Moths,” breathed Ali, her silver eyes gleaming with excitement. She started pulling me into the cave. “Probably High Elves here to make sure we’re dead. I’d rather they not spot us.”

  I stepped back, but still peered out to watch. Slowly, the dark forms of giant moths began to glide out of the darkness above us. Four, five, six of them. They circled, and I could see the unmistakable shapes of riders clinging to their backs.

  “Call your dagger,” I whispered. “There are riders. Do you think you can take one out?”

  “Skalei.” Ali paused, then cursed and shook her head. “Skalei won’t come.”

  Not even Ali’s shadow magic worked down here. I was going to have to do this the hard way.

  “Stay here,” I whispered, then I stepped up to the mouth of the cave, calling out, “Hello!”

  The riders turned, facing me, but something wasn’t right. They moved stiffly, bodies jerking awkwardly to each beat of the moths’ wings. They balanced like they’d never been on a moth before. These were not the king’s moth-riders.

  One descended, crossing into the violet glow of the cave. I caught a glimpse of black hair and green eyes. These riders were Vanir. I searched around for a weapon, snatching up the crystal shard just as a moth dropped level with us.

  “Prince Galin?” asked the Vanir, leveling a crossbow at my chest. At that moment, I realized I recognized him as the Regent.

  “Is the Night Elf with you?” the R
egent asked, then peered over my shoulder. “I see her there in the shadows.”

  I heard Ali take a step closer, sidling up behind me.

  “How did you know we were down here?” I asked.

  “Everyone in the Citadel knows what King Gorm did to you.”

  “And why are you here?” I barked.

  Perched on the moth, he shrugged. “We came to collect your bodies. But since you’re alive, you will come with us.”

  I took a step closer. “Why?”

  He shook his head. “That is not for me to say at this moment. I can only give you my oath that Ali will be safe with us.”

  I frowned. This was completely perplexing. He had given his oath that Ali would be safe, but on multiple occasions Vanir had tried to kill her. “Give us a moth, and we’ll follow you.”

  The Regent shook his head again. “No. I will take Ali with me.”

  “And we’re just supposed to trust you?”

  The Regent nodded, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “I don’t think you have any other option.”

  My mouth went dry. He wasn’t wrong about that. I shot a nervous look at Ali. This could be a trap of some sort. But if it was, perhaps it would be easier to get out of than this pit of death.

  A minute later, I was sitting astride a moth’s back, gripping its fur tight. The Vanir warrior in front of me awkwardly jerked the reins, and we nearly slammed into the wall of the well. The poor guy could probably break a stallion in his sleep, but equine skills simply didn’t translate into moth riding.

  At least I’d managed to grab the crystal shard before we left. Hopefully I would survive this ride.

  “You need to relax,” I said sharply. “Let the moth do the flying.”

  The warrior grunted, ignoring me.

  “Look, why don’t I take the—”

  Before I could finish, the Vanir had leaned too far left. Now thoroughly unbalanced, the moth flipped upside down. I gripped tight with my thighs. The Vanir screamed, clutching at the insect's antenna.

  Gods help me.

  “Grab it round the head!” I shouted, but too late. The moth thrashed, and the Vanir was thrown clear. In an instant, he’d disappeared into the darkness.

  Above me, I could hear the other Vanir shouting, but I didn’t have time to listen. If I didn’t immediately get control of the insect, it’d break its wings and crash into the wall.

  After a few harrowing seconds, I managed to grab hold of one of the moth’s antennae in a solid grip.

  I swung the moth right side up, adrenaline pumping, breathing hard. They would think I killed the Vanir, so I held up my hands, signaling I wasn’t a threat.

  “He lost control!” I shouted.

  But there was no one there to respond. My voice echoed in the darkness of the well. I was alone. No moths circled above me. No chitinous wings beat the air.

  “Ali?” I shouted, spurring the moth higher.

  Only echoes answered me.

  “Ali?” I shouted again, panic flickering in my chest.

  I was about to scribe kaun for light when I smelled ozone, sensed the static in the air. A portal had been cast.

  I could guess where they’d taken her. I raised my hand to scribe a portal to the Vanir’s quarters in the Citadel. If anything happened to her, the Vanir would feel my wrath.

  Before I could finish my portal, cold magic raced down my arm, freezing it in place.

  We stay here, Ganglati hissed. We need the wand.

  I froze. Ganglati was right. If I were going to take on the entire Vanir realm, and if I were going to help stop the slaughter of the Night Elves, I would need Loki’s wand. I’d be taking on not one, but two kingdoms, by myself. And that required serious magic indeed.

  My heart slammed against my ribs. I just needed to make sure I got it fast, before anything happened to her.

  Chapter 41

  Galin

  It was late afternoon and I sat, alone, in the derelict Prudential Tower. Closing my eyes, I allowed my soul to slip away, into the astral plane. I needed to check on Ali—to see where the Vanir had taken her.

  I’d never ascended to the astral plane from the top of the tower. At first, I saw only darkness, but as my psychic eye focused, I saw thousands of tiny, shimmering souls spread out below me. Now, I just had to find Ali’s.

  I began by swooping out towards the Citadel. Immediately, I spotted King Gorm and Revna. Gorm’s soul glowed brightly, but Revna’s seemed off, flickering slightly. I was surprised at how little I felt for her and Sune, but maybe that thousand years I’d spent in the dungeon with no heartbeat while they taunted me had soured me on them.

  As I floated closer, I saw that Revna’s light had faded, as if her soul was slipping out of Midgard. I’d only seen that a few times, and only when people were near death. That was Ali’s doing.

  But I could see no sign of Ali here.

  “Where is she?” I muttered.

  I hadn’t expected an answer, but Ganglati spoke. Well, she’s not in Midgard. And she hasn’t been executed, or she would be in Helheim with me.

  My chest unclenched. It hadn’t occurred to me that Ganglati would be able to tell me she was alive. “So, she’s in Vanaheim.”

  That would be my interpretation.

  “Okay. My father is alive, but my sister is injured.” I slid back into my body, my muscles flexing.

  That is also what I see. The shade paused. So, we steal the wand now?

  “Now or never,” I said quietly.

  Rising, I assessed my gear. I had an old dagger and a pair of thick leather pants. Not exactly a full suit of armor, but it would have to do.

  I drew in a deep breath as I prepared to draw a portal. My plan was a good one, but that didn’t mean it would be easy to pull off.

  I will help you, said Ganglati, his voice once again a whisper in my subconscious. Though that wasn’t particularly reassuring.

  I drew the portal and stepped through, the magic crackling over my skin.

  I appeared in the hall before King Gorm’s quarters. The usual pair of guards stood on either side of the towering golden doors.

  I stalked closer to them, a cold anger chilling my blood. I wanted vengeance, now. “I am here to speak with the king.”

  The guards stared, mouths open in shock. They looked pale as milk, like they’d seen a ghost. “We thought you died,” one of them stammered.

  “Did you honestly think the Well of Wyrd can kill me?” I narrowed my eyes.

  He was shaking as he answered. “No one visits the king without prior approval.”

  “Are you sure you want to annoy me? I seem to survive no matter what you people do to me. Do you think the same is true for Gorm? In a battle between us, which one do you think will end up as king? You might want to start reconsidering your loyalty.”

  The guard on the right’s eyes twitched, and he glanced to the other for help.

  “You don’t have to let me inside,” I offered. “Just go in and tell him that I’m here.”

  The guard on the right nodded, then pushed open the doors and disappeared. Only one guard remained.

  In two strides, I was at his side. I slammed my fist so hard into his head that it snapped back against the door with a crack. Unconscious, he began to fall, but I caught him. The main doors were locked with runes, and his hands were the keys to opening them. Grabbing one of his wrists, I pressed his palm against the door. It swung open.

  The curtains were drawn, and it was dark in the main room. But behind a door to my right, I could hear my father talking to the other guard.

  I pushed open the door and entered to find my father and the guard staring at me. An enormous stained-glass window loomed over Gorm, depicting him dressed as the god Freyr with a boar and an enormous sword.

  I crossed to his oak table and plucked an apple from his fruit bowl, taking a bite. The apple was perfectly sweet and tangy, and it made my mouth water. I wanted to throw him off guard.

  “As it happens,” I beg
an casually, “the rumors of my demise turned out to be wildly exaggerated. It would appear that I’m still standing.”

  “Galin,” stammered my father. “I know you’ll understand that I did what I had to do.”

  I shrugged. “Sure. Moving swiftly along. Where is it?”

  “What?” Gorm looked confused.

  “The wand. Levateinn. I’ll be taking it with me.”

  “I don’t have it.” I’d expected my father to lie, perhaps tell me that he’d had the wand locked away somewhere outside the Citadel. But that wasn’t why I’d asked him.

  He was a dreadful liar, always had been. As he spoke, his eyes told me everything I needed to know. The wand was where he looked first—in the bedside table five feet to his left.

  I dropped the apple and lunged.

  My father began screaming: “Porgor! Porgor! Porgor! I have a meal for you! A fine meal!”

  I ripped open the top drawer. Sitting at the bottom, wrapped in silk and shimmering with silver light, was Levateinn.

  I snatched it up and began to raise it. But before I could cast a spell, the floor below me exploded, throwing me across the room.

  “Blrooooooahhh!”

  Porgor, my father’s troll, had entered the arena.

  Chapter 42

  Galin

  The troll landed in front of me, and the floor shook like an earthquake was ripping the world apart. I stumbled to my knees as the ground swayed. Great chunks of plaster dropped from the ceiling. Porgor bellowed again, the sound loud enough to make my eardrums tremble.

  I rushed to my feet, but not fast enough. Porgor grabbed my arms, each of his hands like a steel vice.

  From across the room, my father screamed, “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”

  Porgor’s grip tightened. His granite fingers began to crush my forearms, but I still had Levateinn. The only problem was the wand wasn’t pointed at him. He was twisting my arm, leaving the wand pointed at the wall, which was no use at all. If I destroyed the wall, the whole ceiling would come down.