The Hellhound King

by Lori Devoti

  “Somewhere in the middle I think. The elf lords are right—Alfheim needs to change and grow. But the royals are right, too—we can’t forget who or what we are.” She shook her head again and turned a little to the side. “What I’d do doesn’t matter, anyway. Neither group would listen to me.” Her words sounded bleak, even to her own ears, but they were true. She couldn’t help Alfheim, couldn’t save her world from itself, not even if she wanted to.

  Raf grabbed her by the arms and pulled her back around. “Then leave with me.” He stared into her eyes.

  She wanted to tell him yes, to tell him to shimmer her away right then, but she had Ky to think of, to protect.

  At her hesitation, he growled and pulled her against his chest. His body was hard, but his touches were soft. His chin as it brushed over her face and neck was rough with stubble. She knew it would leave a mark, a mark she’d have to hide or repair, but she didn’t care…couldn’t care…

  She was with Raf, and they weren’t yelling at each other, weren’t accusing each other…they just were. It was everything she longed for.

  She cupped his chin in her hands and pressed her lips against his, tiny nibbling kisses that grew in speed until he groaned and moved his mouth away from hers, trailed kisses down her throat.

  Her head fell back and his lips moved lower, to her breasts which pushed up against the top of her blouse. He jerked the gauzy coat from her body and tossed it onto the ground. It wound around their feet and they stepped on it, giving it no more thought than what it represented—the pretense that had always been her life.

  He backed against the bed and fell onto the soft mattress, pulling her with him. She landed on top of his chest and smiled. The move was almost playful, something else she’d missed. Princesses didn’t play; elf lord minions didn’t play.

  He smiled, too, then wove his fingers into her hair and pulled what remained of the elaborate hairdo loose. It fell down around her shoulders framing her face. She started to brush it aside, but he stopped her, ran his fingers through it instead, then wound them through its length and used it to pull her mouth to his.

  She met his kisses, harder now. The time for tiny love bites was past. She wanted him, needed him, had missed him. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, surprising her. She brushed them aside then shoved him down on the bed when he noticed and started to rise.

  “No,” she murmured. “Don’t stop. We can’t stop. I need this.”

  He lay back down, his arm around her back hard and firm. He was angry; she could feel it, but not at her. Not this time. This time he understood, and was on her side.

  She sighed and shoved his shirt up, baring his chest. He pulled the shirt from his body and they fell back down together. She pressed her lips to his nipple, swirled her tongue around it as her hand drifted lower, to the front of his jeans. He was hard beneath the denim. Excitement shot through her. She slipped the button free and slowly pulled down the zipper.

  He caught her lower lip between his teeth and growled. She smiled and stroked him, reveled as he growled again.

  He murmured something she didn’t understand; she murmured back, telling him in elfin that she loved him, needed him. He didn’t understand, but that was for the best. Trust him or not, they couldn’t be together, even in the middle of their passion she knew that. A hellhound and an elfin princess—it was insane.

  She pulled her top over her head. Her breasts hung free. He pulled the tip of one into his mouth. She groaned and squirmed against him. His lips still covering her, he slipped his hands under the waist of her pants and edged the material down her hips until she was naked on top of him.

  They were both naked. Their bodies seemed to cling to each other, as if a static charge attached them. She pulled back, felt a zing sizzle across her skin, then lay back down and did it again.

  “Your magic,” he murmured. “It’s growing.”

  Marina had never felt energy like this before. She wiggled her fingers. Tiny bolts of electricity zinged from her fingers, zapped over his chest and stomach. He sucked in a breath and she did it again, moving her hand lower each time. Finally, her hand hovered over his sex. She stared down at him, daring him to give her a nod, an okay.

  He grabbed her by the back of her head and jerked her body down onto his. She groaned. His skin was hot; they seemed to meld together. Her legs parted and his erection nudged against her. She wiggled until the tip inched inside her, held her breath, then rose up and plunged her weight down. He filled and stretched her; she had to fight back a scream.

  He flipped over and pressed her down into the mattress. Then he rose up above her and stared down at her. His eyes glimmered. She reached up and ran her hand down his chest. He braced his arms beside her head and pulled back, almost out of her. Her hips angled toward him, her body searching for him. Then he tilted his hips and moved forward again until his length was fully sheathed inside her.

  Her breath caught in her chest. She ran her hands down his sides, dug her fingers into his muscle and held on as he continued his movements, in and out. Her body tightened and her mind separated. She was floating overhead, but feeling every movement his body made against hers, smelling the wood smoke scent of him. He murmured again. She struggled to make sense of what he said…love…mine…words that made no sense…words she couldn’t believe he would say, mean, not about her.

  She blocked them from her mind, lost herself instead in the physical reaction her body was having to his, in the warmth of his touch and the passion of his kisses.

  His pace increased and her breath came out in tiny pants. Her world swirled and her body tightened. He grabbed her and held her closer still, his length pounded in and out of her body one more time, then he tensed, too, and together they fell over the edge. The bedclothes, her hair, their breath all tangled together, tying them together as he collapsed next to her and tugged her into his arms.

  Raf’s heart pounded. He pulled Marina closer and pressed a kiss against her ear. He hadn’t come here with the intention of this happening. There were too many things for them to discuss, resolve—what he’d seen in Alfheim, what he’d learned about the stone, the snake. All of it added up to a gigantic mess.

  But he didn’t regret what had passed between them, either.

  She was his and he wasn’t giving her up. That he was sure of.

  Still they needed to talk. He forced his mind away from the feel of her snuggled against him.

  “Tell me about the snake. Who do you think sent it? Who wants you dead?”

  “The snake wasn’t meant for me. The box had your name on it.”

  Raf digested that. He imagined many elves might want him dead, especially if they saw him with their princess right now, but not many…any…knew his true feelings for her, that he had completely turned his mind again, realized she had just been a pawn…loved her. Still, someone stood out.

  “Would your uncle have left it?”

  Marina rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t think so. It isn’t his style.”

  Raf considered this. Geir was the only being in Alfheim who could have a personal grudge against him. The guard at the castle certainly hadn’t held any love for him, but Raf had never met the male before, couldn’t believe he would go so far as to track Raf—the guard had gone home by the time Raf left the castle. He hadn’t even waited around to see that Raf did leave.

  “Are you sure it was meant for me?” he asked. It wasn’t that he couldn’t believe some elf might prefer him dead, but the snake, the box…it seemed like such an effort to get him that way. His death couldn’t be that important to anyone in Alfheim.

  “The box had your name on it,” Marina repeated.

  “Still…” He laced his fingers through hers. “Perhaps the royals heard the elf lords were courting you. Perhaps putting my name on the box was just a trick.” He paused. “How did the snake get in your room, if my name was on the box?”

  She dropped her gaze. “A servant brought it. I wanted to kn
ow what was inside.”

  He nodded. “They would probably have suspected that.”

  “But they wouldn’t know. You could have been here and opened the package.”

  He shrugged. “If I had and the snake had killed me, would they have cared?”

  “No.” She shook her head, but didn’t look convinced.

  Raf sat up. “So, we don’t know who sent the snake. It doesn’t matter. Someone could be trying to kill you. That’s enough. I will get you out of Alfheim.” It was his fault she was here, in danger. He had to make that right. He stood and pulled on his clothes.

  Marina stood beside him. She clutched onto the blanket which was still wrapped around her. “I can’t leave.”

  He stopped.

  “My uncle has Ky booby trapped. If I try to leave Alfheim he’ll hurt her, maybe kill her.”

  Raf shoved a shirt into her hands. “Then we take her, too.” He was sick of the issues of Alfheim, sick of not knowing who to trust—not knowing if he and Marina could trust anyone.

  Marina shook her head. “We can’t. My uncle told me the trap will go off if she goes through the portal.”

  “He could be lying.”

  Marina smiled, a sad tilt of her lips. “He could be, but then again, he might not be. I’m not willing to take the chance.”

  Frustration caused Raf to growl. “So, you’re going to stay here instead? Let him and the elf lords fight over you like a battered bone? There’s no winning for you. You realize that, don’t you? No one here cares what happens to you. They just want to use you.”

  Her eyes snapped with anger, but only for a second. She let out a breath. “I’ve known that most of my life.” She walked back to the bed and sat down, looked as if she had no intention of moving.

  Raf picked up the shirt she’d dropped and held it out to her. “Get dressed. I don’t believe you are stuck here. I won’t let you be.”

  Chapter 14

  M arina wanted to believe Raf, but he didn’t know Alfheim as she did. She was the princess; the only escape from the job was death.

  She pulled on the shirt he’d handed her and reached for her pants. “I’ll help you find the stone. Then you can leave.”

  “I’m not leaving you here.”

  “You have to. I know all this seems crazy to you, but I’ll survive it.”

  He walked to the table where the snake’s box had lain. Straw, like what he’d seen in the front hall, was scattered over the floor. He pushed it into a pile with his toe. “What about this?”

  A shiver ran over her body, but she hid it, shrugged instead. “Just another day in the life of a princess. Besides, I told you, you were the target.”

  Raf tapped his fingers against his leg, then stood.

  She stepped in front of him. “Where are you going?”

  “To see your uncle.”

  “You can’t.”

  Raf crossed his arms over his chest. “Why can’t I?”

  “Because, I just told you. He can kill Ky. I’ll talk to him, I’ll see if he knows anything about the snake.”

  “I’m the reason you’re here, in this mess. I’ll fix it.” He walked past her, headed toward the door.

  “Raf!” She reached for him, not sure what she was going to say, what else she could say, but her hand hit glimmering air. He had shimmered.

  As soon as Raf left, Marina knew what she had to do. She had to get her sister out of the middle.

  Carrying the tiny box that contained the inset Geir had given her, Marina wandered into the sitting room. She hadn’t spoken to Ky about it. If her sister’s life truly was at risk, she deserved to know.

  The sitting room was empty; Marina moved on through the house. No one was around, except servants, of course. And Marina barely noticed them. She stopped when she realized this. Old habits were returning. Old habits she wasn’t proud of.

  She walked back down the hall where she’d seen a female servant polishing a table. “Hello,” she called.

  The servant continued her work. Marina moved closer until she was standing only inches away. “Hello.”

  The servant jumped.

  “Have you seen my sister?” Marina said.

  The servant licked her lips and glanced back at her cleaning rag.

  When it became obvious the female wasn’t going to answer, Marina decided to try another tactic. “How about Dae, have you seen her?” The servant who had delivered the box with the snake was the only other person besides Tahl whose name Marina knew, and that was only because Ky had used it.

  “I’m Dae,” the servant responded.

  Marina frowned. “Your name is Dae, too?”

  The female darted her gaze to the side then back at Marina. “We are all Dae. All the female servants. Jarl Geir felt it would be less confusing.”

  “He calls you all by the same name?” And her sister did, too. This was new to Marina; she was fairly certain before she left for Gunngar each servant had a unique name…or did they? It horrified her to realize she didn’t remember.

  “Yes.” The servant glanced nervously back at her cloth.

  “Marina?” Ky appeared at the end of the hall, near an open door that led to the back garden. “Were you looking for me?”

  Marina hesitated, but the servant had already gone back to her cleaning. Feeling uncomfortable in her own skin, Marina clasped the box tighter against her palm and moved down the hall toward Ky.

  “Her name isn’t Dae,” she announced as they walked out the door into the noon sun.

  “Whose?” Ky picked up a knife and began scraping thorns off a rose bush.

  “That servant, any of the servants probably. Geir just has you call them that.”

  “So?” Ky ran her finger down the now bare stem. Satisfied it was smooth, she picked up the knife and started to work on another bush.

  “So, you call them that, but it isn’t their name.”

  Ky held out a hand and gestured to a basket lying near Marina’s feet. “Could you hand me the wax?”

  Marina frowned, but retrieved the small pot and plopped it onto her sister’s palm. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  Ky looked up. There was a line between her eyes. “Should it?”

  Yes, damn it, it should. Marina wondered if she knew her sister. Had she left her alone with Geir too long?

  She took a breath. “They are elves, like you, like me.”

  “Of course they are, Geir won’t hire anyone else. The elf lords use dwarf and half-dwarf servants, but none of the royals do. We’re an all elf household, except for your hellhound.”

  “He isn’t my hellhound,” Marina replied.

  Ky dipped her finger into the wax then held the pot back out for Marina. “I don’t know why you’re getting snippy. No one else in Alfheim has a hellhound to show off. Everyone will be jealous.”

  As Marina watched her sister buff away even the tiniest sign of the thorns she’d snipped off, her stomach clinched. Ky didn’t get it; didn’t get any of it. Her life had been nothing but pretty dresses and parties for too long.

  Marina squatted down in the dirt and pulled her sister’s hand into hers…she glanced at the ruby set into her sister’s neck. “When did you get that?” she asked.

  Ky lay a hand over the jewel. “Only a few months ago.”

  Marina opened the box she’d been holding and placed it on her sister’s hand. “Geir had one made for me, too.”

  A question appeared in Ky’s eyes. “It’s pretty.”

  “You don’t know what this is, do you?” Marina asked. She kept her voice low and calm. She didn’t want to frighten Ky, but she had a right to know.

  Ky’s finger danced over the ruby set in her own neck. “It’s a decoration. They’re popular now.”

  “It’s more than that. How long have you been having your spells?”

  Ky’s hand stilled. “Why are you asking that?”

  “Did you have them before?” Marina moved her gaze to the ruby.

  Ky pulled back. “What a
re you saying?”

  “When I was in Geir’s office, when I first arrived, he showed me this.” She shook the box with the crystal. “Then he told me about yours. It isn’t just a decoration. It’s causing your spells. That last one. He did that to show me he had control of you.”

  Ky shook her head. “Don’t be silly. Geir doesn’t need to control me. I’m nothing. You’re the princess.” Something flickered behind her gaze. Anger?

  Marina plucked the box from her sister’s palm. “I said it wrong. He’s controlling me, by threatening you.”

  “Because you care what happens to me?” The question was soft.

  Marina’s gaze shot to her sister’s face. “Of course, you’re my sister.”

  Ky sighed. “And Geir is our uncle. He’s controlling, but he wouldn’t do that. We’re royal, even without the throne, that means something.”

  “It means we’re tools.” Marina sat back on her heels and snapped the box shut. “He and the other royals want to overthrow the elf lords, use me to get and keep Alfheim on their side.”

  “What’s wrong with that? We are supposed to be living in the castle. The elf lords have no right to it.” Ky cupped her hand around her neck. It was an unconscious gesture. Marina wondered if her sister even realized she’d done it.

  Marina faltered. The look in her sister’s eyes…it was dead. Thinking it was the realization they couldn’t trust their uncle, Marina pulled Ky’s hand away from her neck. “That isn’t what I wanted to talk about…. We need to learn more about the inset. Maybe we can figure out a way to get rid of it.”

  Ky lifted the knife to her own throat. “We’ll cut it out.”

  Marina stared at her sister, shocked at how she held the knife, at how cold the intent in her eyes was. She placed her hand on Ky’s. “Geir said it would explode if we messed with it, or if you left Alfheim.”

  Ky shrugged and dropped the knife. “Since I have no intention of leaving Alfheim, the last doesn’t matter. So far as the first…I’ll leave it in. I like it, anyway.”