Cursed Prince (Night Elves Trilogy Book 1)

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Cursed Prince (Night Elves Trilogy Book 1) Page 13

by C. N. Crawford

“You’re Galin.” I did my best to keep my voice smooth, though my emotions were trembling through my body.

  This man before me was why Mom and Dad had died of the cave sickness, their bodies racked by fevers, skin dappled with sores. This man was why none of us ever saw the sun or the horizon, why we starved under the earth.

  I thought of calling Skalei to me, but it was too early. He couldn’t see me as a threat.

  The faintest hint of a smile flicked over the High Elf’s face as he took a step closer to the edge of the rocky shore. “I am whatever you desired me to be.”

  My body shook with rage, but I tried to keep a level head so I didn’t fuck this up. This was the man who’d brought a thousand years of suffering to my people, the man I’d vowed every day of my life to kill. He looked remorseless, smug. And I needed him to keep his guard down before I slit his throat.

  “Why are you here?” I asked again. I tried to keep my voice light and calm to mask the rage. Let him think I was harmless.

  “Waiting for you,” he said, his voice melodic.

  What the fuck?

  Well, I wasn’t going to sit here chatting with him any longer. This was the time. I rushed forward. The water was at my knees now.

  But something was holding me back—that question niggled in the back of my mind. Why is Galin here in this dark, wet, subterranean lake?

  I didn’t want to kill him till I understood what was happening.

  “Are you real?” A little anger tinged my voice, and I marshaled a sense of calm. An assassin was supposed to stay in control, to master her feelings. I took a long, slow breath.

  Galin smiled. “Yes. I have always been here for you, Ali. I have been waiting for you for a very long time.”

  His eyes swept over me. There was a fierce desire in them. And something else—a different emotion. Hunger.

  I stopped walking, the lake water lapping at my ankles.

  None of this made sense. I waited, ready to call Skalei at any moment. Icy rivulets dripped down my body, and my muscles shook with fatigue, but I was focused only on him.

  “Waiting for me?” I successfully kept my voice light this time, and I even managed what I thought was a genuine smile.

  The High Elf was only feet from me. He was extraordinarily beautiful. His golden hair floated around his head like a halo, and his pale eyes twinkled, a sly smile on his lips. He looked relaxed, amused. “None of that is important, Ali. And I don’t mind dying.”

  “Skalei,” I whispered.

  But just then, something brushed my leg. Something cold, slimy, and covered in translucent suckers. Something that felt toxic. I whirled, slashing it with Skalei.

  Then Galin screamed.

  Chapter 35

  Marroc

  I peered into the darkness, straining my eyes, but it was futile. I couldn’t see through the inky blackness. I’d just finished tracing the rune for sun when a small hand touched my shoulder.

  “Marroc, are you okay?” Ali’s voice brought a smile to my face.

  I turned to her, and she beamed at me, eyes shining. Her silver hair hung in wet waves to her shoulders. As my gaze went lower, my breath caught.

  Just like at the pool before, she wore only her white underwear. The sun rune illuminated her transparent bra, nipples straining against it. A long-forgotten desire stirred in my body; I wanted to claim her right there. I wanted to taste her skin, her neck. I wanted to feel her against me.

  She hugged herself. “I’m cold,” she whispered. “I lost my clothes in the rapids.”

  With one hand around her neck, the other on her hip, I was now pressing her against a boulder. I let my body warm the air, heat pulsing off me. A sly smile curled my lips. So, I hadn’t lost the ability to seduce, even after all that time in prison.

  I looked deep into those silver eyes. I was boxing her in, but the look on her face told me she liked it. As I leaned in closer, I could smell her delicious scent, so perfectly mine. Her neck was arching. Inviting me.

  “Everything is going to be fine now,” she said softly. “You’re making me warmer.”

  Water dripped from her hair, along the curves of her shoulders, her skin puckered with goosebumps. Her nipples were hard in the cool air, her mouth half open with desire.

  So tempting to just grab her, to take her up against the stone, my mouth on her throat. But I’d take my time with her. When I touched her shoulder, I found her body ice-cold to the touch.

  I pressed in closer, sliding my hand up her back, into her hair. I pulled her head back and leaned down to brush my lips over her throat. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me to her. I could hear her breathing quickening, and I was enjoying having her here in my thrall.

  I could feel it now—my heart beating. Life pulsing within me. I kissed her neck, tasting her. My tongue swirled over her skin, my thoughts becoming muddled. I was fighting the urge to break the skin, to release her blood…

  I pulled away a little bit, leashing myself to stay in control. Then I slowly trailed kisses down her throat. I could hear her heart beating, feel her pulse throbbing beneath her skin.

  I was battling a ferocious need to possess her completely, to make her mine, body and soul. I skimmed my teeth over her throat. My eyes slid over her body once more, and I fought the overwhelming need to rip off those damp pieces of white cloth. She smiled at me, hips moving closer to me. My blood roared in my ears like I was alive again.

  I traced my fingertips down, from her shoulders to her wrists. I watched her shiver as I touched her, like her body was exquisitely sensitive. Normally, she seemed so fierce, but now she was helpless before me, desperate to be touched.

  My assassin—tamed.

  I gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head. I leaned down, pressing my lips to hers, kissing her deeply. A low growl rose from me, and I was dangerously close to losing control. I felt her damp body against mine, her soft breasts brushing my chest. I wanted to fill her. When she moaned a little, fire shot through me.

  As my mouth claimed hers, I felt like I could see into her soul again—to the first time she saw the sunlight, her eyes dazzled. I wanted to keep her in the light, always. As we kissed, it was like we became one, souls twined together. I pulled away from the kiss with a nip of her lower lip.

  When I ran my hands slowly down her arms, I heard her gasp. Gods, I wanted her naked, but I was staying in control. My heart was beating now, strong in my chest.

  I lifted my gaze to hers. Even when I was alive, I had never desired a woman more than at this very moment.

  With a light touch, I stroked my fingers up her body—then my palms grazed her breasts, and she gasped again.

  She whispered my name—“Marroc”—and the word froze me in place.

  Because that wasn’t my name, and at some point, she’d learn the truth.

  The betrayal would rip us apart.

  Chapter 36

  Ali

  Galin screamed, reaching for me. His face shimmered like rippling water—one moment elven, the next a twisting mass of gelatinous flesh. What the fuck?

  A tentacle wrapped around my leg. One slash from Skalei cleaved it in two, and gray pus squirted from the severed end.

  Galin continued to scream, but his voice was changing. No longer the singsong High Elf dialect, it had turned phlegmy, like he was trying to speak with a mouth full of goo. I leapt away from him, feet splashing in the water. My blood pounded loud in my ears.

  So, this wasn’t Galin. Of course I wouldn’t be so lucky as to just run into him here in the middle of a dark cave.

  “Come back to me, Ali,” he commanded. “I will protect you.”

  Sure you will. I took another step back, and another tentacle reached for me, sliding over my skin. I severed it, then dove back into the frigid lake. I swam underwater, away from the island, until my lungs burned and my body began to convulse.

  When I surfaced, the creature was howling with rage. Not Galin—a grotesque monster that hung from one of the cei
ling’s cavities. A giant mollusk—a gelatinous body thick as a tree trunk, but with tentacles writhing around its mouth.

  It called me again in a gurgling voice. “Ali, I will protect you!”

  I swam toward deeper water. I knew what this creature was now: a nokk. One of the most dangerous subterranean animals. Many a Night Elf had been lured to their death by their telepathic magic.

  The nokk’s method was simple. They strung out a net of tentacles, then waited for their prey to approach. If one of their tentacles touched you, they would project images into your mind, drawing you closer and closer with the promise of your deepest desires. If I hadn’t sliced that tentacle away, the creature would have consumed me.

  I watched the nokk twist and turn above the island like a slimy pendulum. I’d thought it would try to chase me, but it didn’t seem able or willing to move from its spot. I was trying to decide where I should swim next, when a familiar growl pierced the darkness. Marroc.

  I searched for him. Where was he? He growled again, and fear snaked through me. Either it was the nokk calling me again with another illusion, or Marroc was actually nearby.

  Cautiously, I swam toward the sound of his voice. I needed his help if I was to return to Midgard. If the nokk had him, I might be stuck in these depths forever. And worse, though I was loath to admit it, I owed him for his help. He’d helped me get the ring I needed, and I needed to help him find Loki’s wand so he could get his soul back. Or at least try to help him. I doubted we’d actually get it.

  I hoped that Marroc might simply be calling out to me, but when I finally saw him, my worst fears were realized. He hung ten feet in the air, gray tentacles coiled around him like snakes. His eyes were closed, but he struggled in the nokk’s grasp.

  I needed to free him.

  “Skalei.”

  I stood slowly in chest-deep water. The stones under my feet were slick with river slime. I tried not to think about what sorts of animals lived in an environment that was completely dark.

  Fake Galin appeared again on the lakeshore. “Ali, you’ve returned to me?” he called from the darkness.

  I tensed. The only way a nokk could project an illusion into my brain was if one of its tentacles was touching me. I spotted one floating in the water near my thigh. I sliced through it, and Galin disappeared again.

  I probably only had a few seconds until the creature sent another tentacle reaching for me, so I threw Skalei as hard as I could. Spinning end over end, my blade was aimed right for the nokk, until it twitched rapidly. There was a metallic clank as the hilt bounced off the thing and hit the ceiling, then splashed into the lake.

  Balls. I missed.

  Galin reappeared on the shore. “Ali,” he called. “Ignore the lich—focus your anger on me. I’m the one you want to kill.”

  I was about to call Skalei to me, but stopped. Something had moved in the darkness beyond the nokk. Slowly, the gray body of a second nokk slid from a hole in the rock. Its tentacles twisted frantically, sensing the air. I guessed it was trying to determine where the clank from my dagger had come from.

  “Oh, crap,” I said under my breath. “Skalei.”

  The nokk gripping Marroc looked like it was about to crush him. I didn’t have much time.

  Holding Skalei, I estimated I was forty feet from the nokk. At this distance, the knife would rotate between two and three times. I was pretty sure I hadn’t thrown it quite hard enough last time.

  I reared back and hurled the blade. It spun through the darkness. With a thunk, it sank into Marroc’s arm.

  I grimaced.

  Marroc didn’t move, didn’t so much as twitch. Whatever the nokk was doing to his mind, it was effective. But now, the second nokk was twisting toward the sound, tentacles twitching excitedly.

  I gritted my teeth. “Skalei.” The blade returned to my hand, wet with ichor.

  I knew I had the velocity right—I just needed to improve my aim. This time, I visualized the blade sinking into the nokk’s gelatinous body. I threw it again.

  It spun end over end, and with a squelching smack, it sank into the nokk’s flesh. The blade was a tiny speck against the trunk-like body, but I’d made a successful strike nonetheless.

  I grinned, waiting for it to drop Marroc.

  Instead, it only squeezed harder. My heart slammed against my ribs.

  This was pointless. Skalei might be lethal in my hands against an elf, but against a massive nokk, it was like trying to kill an elephant with a toothpick. I needed a different approach—

  Then the nokk screamed: a high, piercing sound that slid through my bones. Its tentacles spasmed, reaching frantically for Skalei to pull the knife free.

  My lips twitched in a smile. The beast might be big, but its skin was sensitive.

  No—wait. It wasn’t Skalei that was upsetting it. A tentacle from the second nokk had wrapped around the base of the first nokk’s body.

  The nokk holding Marroc thrashed back and forth, slamming itself against the rocks as more tentacles latched on to it. Marroc swung in its grasp.

  “Drop him, drop him,” I whispered under my breath.

  The second nokk lunged. Its snout split open like a pair of pliers, revealing rows of yellow teeth. With a slobbery crunch, it bit into the first nokk’s side.

  The first nokk screamed again, its tentacles lashing its attacker. Nokk screams and howls echoed in the dark cavern. Marroc swayed to and fro, then, finally, he slipped from the nokk’s grasp and dropped into the lake with a splash. The nokks ignored him as they fought. The cavern filled with their primordial cries; gray nokk blood fell like rain.

  I swam toward Marroc’s body as fast as I dared. He was floating on his back when I reached him, his eyes closed. Still and beautiful.

  “Marroc,” I whispered. “Wake up.”

  But the lich didn’t move. What had happened to him? He couldn’t die if he was already dead. Whatever the nokk had done to him had left him completely unconscious.

  Grabbing hold of his shirt, I pulled him away from the fighting nokk, though his weight made me groan. I scanned the darkness as I pulled him into deeper water. Something moved, and my stomach clenched. Above us, more nokks began to poke their heads from holes in the rock, their tentacles twitching in the direction of the two fighting each other.

  I had to get Marroc out of here now. If we stayed here, I was certain we’d be eaten.

  Chapter 37

  Marroc

  Whack.

  A wet slap against my cheek.

  Whack.

  I groaned, trying to move my head out of the way.

  Whack. Whack.

  “Marroc, wake up.” I recognized Ali’s voice.

  Whack.

  I opened my eyes a sliver, just in time to see a delicate hand fly into view. Immediately followed by a painful smack against the side of my cheek.

  “Mhhggghh,” I half groaned, half growled.

  I opened my eyes wider. I could see. It was no longer pitch dark. Pale light filtered through a gray mist.

  Ali crouched beside me. She leaned close, her silver hair damp against my neck. She was clothed now, but the memory of her kiss still burned on my lips.

  She raised her hand to hit me again, but this time, I caught her wrist.

  Now this is an interesting kink. I was about to pull her to me, to feel her body against mine, but she glared at me and tried to wrench her hand away. Why so shy now? She’d been trembling against me only moments ago.

  “Marroc,” she whispered sharply, “are you all right?”

  Why was she asking me this? I was completely satiated, of course. And why was she suddenly so shy? She should be straddling me.

  She interrupted my thoughts: “Marroc, we need to get moving. We can’t stay here. I don’t think it’s safe.”

  I sat up, confused. Last I remembered, before I’d fallen asleep in Ali’s arms, we’d been on our own private island. I’d taken her hard up against a boulder.

  Yet it appeared Ali was right. W
e were sitting on a dirty bank. At my feet, brown water rushed over gray stones. The scent of death hung in the air. What was going on? I reached for my pen and notebook, but I found no sign of it. Just as well. The paper would be soaked.

  “I don’t know where your notebook is,” said Ali. “I think it must have been lost in the river.”

  I wrote in the dirt with my finger. How did you get your clothes back?

  Ali looked confused. “What? I never lost my clothes.”

  Then, as she stared at my dirty scribble, her mouth slowly fell open.

  “Marroc,” she finally said, speaking slowly, “after we went over the waterfall, we were swept into an underground cavern. A great subterranean lake. We were separated. I swam to an island. There was a nokk. It almost caught me, but I was able to slice off its tentacles.”

  I stared. A nokk? Ah… They were supposed to have extraordinary powers of illusion and mind control.

  Ali continued, “But you were caught by the nokk.”

  I growled, and a pang of disappointment clenched my chest. No matter. I’d seduce her later.

  “After the nokk released you, I had to drag you back into the current. You’ve been unconscious for hours.”

  She reached for me, then pulled my shirt open to reveal the rows of red welts that crisscrossed my chest. The marks of the nokk’s suckers.

  Ali crossed her arms. “You had a vision of me without clothes?”

  I gave her a sly smile, then shrugged. What illusion did you see? I wrote.

  Her expression went cold as ice. “It was the strangest thing. At first, I thought it was you, but then I saw Galin. Did you know him, Marroc? Before Ragnarok?” She looked fierce, sparks flashing in her steel-gray eyes. “The nokk tried to lure me onto the island to kill him.”

  Somehow, I managed to keep my face neutral, but I could feel the dark, heated magic pulsing off me.

  “Did you know him?” A barely controlled fury laced her voice.

  This time, I lied. I shook my head slowly. It felt wrong lying to her. Immoral, even. How long had it been since I’d cared about that?

 

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