Wildest Dreams

Chapter Thirty-One

Dragons

One month later…

“Finnie, Apollo requests your attendance.”

I looked from cleaning the wound to Lund and nodded. “Let me finish here, Lund, and I’ll go directly to him.”

Lund looked at the man I was working on then at me, his eyes soft as all Frey’s men’s eyes were soft when they encountered the shadow of mourning drifting steady and unrelenting in mine and he nodded.

Then he left.

I looked at the man in the cot. “Am I hurting you?”

He shook his head then lied through his teeth (literally because he was clenching them), “No, my Winter Princess.”

I smiled at him. I knew it was a sad rather than reassuring smile but I had to try and I didn’t have any smiles that weren’t. He didn’t smile back mostly because he was clenching his teeth and I decided to finish quickly so he could relax. I tipped my head and readdressed his thigh, cleaning it with spirits, biting back the impulse to blow away the burn as I heard him suck in breath then I dabbed it with clean cotton, spread a healing salve on it and redressed it.

Once done, I curled my fingers around his ankle, gave him a squeeze and caught his eyes. “It’s beginning to heal, Joshua,” I said softly. “I shouldn’t have to do this again for awhile.” To that, he nodded and I finally saw relief on his face.

I gave him another small smile, got up from the edge of his cot and looked to Lavinia and Valentine who were both seeing to other wounded. I caught their eyes, indicated the flaps to the tent, waited for their nods and walked out.

To get you up to date – Lunwyn was at war and if that wasn’t bad enough, one faction was at war with itself.

With the fall of Broderick, the conspirators, which did indeed include the heads of Houses of both nations, were fighting amongst themselves as to who would take the throne of the united land at the same time fighting against my men who were intent to regain control of the throne in order to keep it and Lunwyn safe until Frey and my child could assume his rule.

My notable Houses included Ravenscroft, Lazarus, Sinclair, Drakkar and Ulfr. The outside faction’s of note included Njord, Roar, Andreas and Viggo. These were of Lunwyn and didn’t include the Middlelandian crew, all of the heads I had met at the Gales (and all of them had feigned respect and friendliness while they were plotting my and/or my husband’s deaths) and all of whom felt their head should now assume the “throne of the united Lunwyn”.

The good news was, with Baldur still in Korwahk with a good deal of the country’s soldiers, the Middleland Houses were weak and the Lunwyn Houses were not the most powerful of the northern land. The other good news was, the infighting was causing disarray and skirmishes against my men were diminishing as they skirmished against each other. The further good news was, when rescued and taken from the highly fortified castle of the House of Roar that Broderick had chosen as his stronghold in Lunwyn, Lavinia and Valentine had regained their magic which they were using for healing as well as protection, cloaking of our troops and gathering (or “sensing”) information about our enemy. And the last good news was Oleg, Lund, Ruben, Max and Skylar had emerged unscathed from the attack on Frey’s lodge. Stephan was wounded superficially and had already recovered enough to join the rest of us. And Bess and Jocelyn had also not been wounded.

The bad news was Orion, Gunner, Annar and Thad had all taken arrows as had Esther and Alyssa. In rating the news, Orion, Gunner, Annar and Esther also had relatively superficial wounds and it was reported they would eventually recover, though it would take longer than Stephan so I was considering this good-ish news. The definitely bad news was that Alyssa had sustained critical injuries and, I was informed, Thad had moved to protect Jocelyn (and succeeded in this) and also sustained multiple injuries of which not one but two were critical. When Stephan arrived, he explained that Bess and Jocelyn were staying behind to assist the physicians, healers and witches in Kellshorn who were seeing to them as well as taking care of Skylar but it did not look good for either Thad or Alyssa.

Further, Ruben informed me, unbeknownst to me but another indication my husband would do all he could for my safety, Frey had hired a woman named Agnes, the witch I met the first night I arrived, and charged her with protecting me with her magic. This failed and the attack on Frey’s lodge could go ahead because Broderick’s men found her and killed her thus her protection magic died with her. Therefore the woman with the cranberry cloak who could jump from the second story of a building and had a face lined in a way where I knew she laughed much through her life was also no longer of this world.

Although my mind often moved to what occurred in the prince’s quarters and the blood on my hands and my heart turned over at the memories as my mouth filled with saliva when these memories reminded me I was a woman capable of those actions, receiving all this news made this phenomenon much less distressing.

The other bad news was that Aurora remained captive in the stronghold of Njord and the witch that wielded the sacred relics and magical implements had not been found by soldiers or through Lavinia trying to sense her. Although now that they were no longer in Broderick’s clutch and she no longer had hold over Lavinia and Valentine, her being at large was not a good thing for my side or the other who, spies informed us, were also scurrying to find her so they could attempt to control her.

And last, the wildcard news was that Kell had disappeared. No one knew where he was, no word, no sighting. He had gone to Sudvic to prepare for Frey’s fleet to leave but he had not been seen or heard from since the rebellion started and Balthazar and Quincy had both ridden to Sudvic and various other places in search of him. Balthazar had returned two days ago with zero information and Quincy just that morning with the same.

Valentine, with her magic back in her control, could have returned home but surprisingly she didn’t. She also didn’t share why she didn’t and, although she worked with me, Lavinia, the physicians and healers who saw to our wounded and she did this with her usual calm, cool composure that bordered on indifference, I knew she felt remorse for meddling between Frey and me.

I would need to discuss this with her and let her off the hook. I just had not had the time and on the infrequent occasion I did, she was not exactly approachable.

She shouldn’t have done what she did, this was true but it was me who said the things I said so that was on me. It was on me that the final words Frey heard from me were shrieked accusations and the absolute last thing he ever heard from my mouth was me telling him he didn’t love me.

That was on me.

All of it on me.

These were my thoughts as I walked through the busy camp of tents staked into the melting snow and men moved passed me, dipping their chins or giving me a shallow bow, horses rode passed and I lifted my chin to others standing by fires or exiting tents.

I made my way thus to Apollo’s tent and entered it.

Inside I saw all the heads of my noted Houses including Eirik, Frey’s father who was flanked by his two surviving sons, Calder and Garik, both men I had met, both men who looked too much like Frey (though not nearly as handsome) therefore setting eyes on them even for a moment wounded my soul and therefore both men I avoided. Because of this, I did not know them very well but what I did know was they were not repugnant like their father, malicious like their mother or wicked like their cousin. But even so, since they were Drakkars, I remained wary.

My eyes went directly to Apollo and my feet went to him too for he dipped his head to a chair indicating I should sit.

In that tent, the only one I completely trusted was Apollo. This was because I knew Frey had trusted him because Frey had told me about him, he told me he liked his cousin, he respected him and I’d learned since from Apollo that sentiment was returned. Also, I knew, if I birthed a daughter, the rest of them would easily be at each other’s throats to control Lunwyn just as our enemy was but I understood innately, rather than Apollo telling me, that if Frey and I had boy or girl, Apollo would always have my back.

And I also trusted Apollo because he looked at me with a look that I knew was mirrored in my eyes. Frey had told me he had lost his wife but, the minute I met Apollo, I read in his eyes that he had loved her, he had not recovered and I knew, reading the look in his eyes, he never would.

Ever.

I nodded to him as I moved across the tent, sat in the chair and looked around.

Calder, Frey’s brother, spoke first. “My Winter Princess, Apollo tells us you are still keen that we engage in a rescue effort to recover Queen Aurora.”

“I am,” I answered and I wasn’t the only one. Norfolk Ravenscroft and Olwen Lazarus, my mother’s cousin and brother respectively, I knew felt the same.

“Would it not be a better use of our resources to focus our energy on crushing the rebellion?” Eirik Drakkar asked as he would. I had learned Frey’s father didn’t mind sending his men into battle although he himself got nowhere near it.

“I am no general,” I answered, schooling my tone to sound respectful. “I simply expressed my wishes to Apollo. I leave the war business to you.”

At this point, Walter Sinclair put in, “Our scouts have not found the witch and I will repeat, I feel we should prioritize this mission. If she has the power to bind our Lavinia and Lavinia tells me her foreign companion’s magic rivals her own, we would be remiss not to seize this witch and claim her instruments for our own.”

“You could send Balthazar and Quincy,” I suggested. “They are both returned and my husband…” I faltered because, suddenly and against my will, my throat filled making my voice husky then I forced myself to rally, recover and I finished swiftly, “told me they are very skilled.”

“They are,” Apollo added, his voice soft. “Frey told me the same.”

“Then dispatch them instantly,” Eirik ordered pompously.

“You forget, Father, that we still skirmish,” Garik stated. “We need every blade we can get and these men of Frey’s are not only skilled at finding things, they are equally skilled with steel.”

“Yes, this is true, Garik,” Olwen Lazarus agreed. “But if we had these instruments and two extremely powerful witches, it might be they could use them to crush the rebellion with no more blood shed on either side.”

“No more blood, yes, no more loss of life, no,” Apollo stated quietly, everyone looked to him and I braced.

Apollo of the House of Ulfr was exceedingly gentle with me in a way that hurt since it reminded me of Frey. He was also exceedingly handsome in a way that also reminded me of Frey with his thick dark hair, big, muscular body and commanding presence (although his eyes were a stunning, pure, jade green).

However, in sitting in these meetings, which Apollo demanded I be included in, I had learned he might be gentle with me but he was not a gentle man.

Not at all.

“Apollo,” Norfolk Ravenscroft said low and Apollo leveled his eyes on the older man.

“They hang, all of them,” he declared.

“These are heads of Houses,” Eirik put in. “Their actions were to unite Lunwyn and we should –”

Apollo turned suddenly burning eyes on Frey’s father and his deep voice was terse when he clipped, “They plotted to murder your daughter-in-law, kidnapped and imprisoned her. They killed your king. They hold your queen captive. And sir, might I remind you, they murdered your son.”

I tried to fight it but, at his words, I couldn’t stop myself from dipping my chin and staring at the rough carpets covering the snow under the tent.

Apollo went on, “He was Our Frey. He was Our Drakkar. The adelas are charred. The elves will never return. The dragons cannot aid us in our plight and will not wake unless Finnie births A Drakkar from Frey’s seed and even if she does, this will take years. And I hope I do not have to remind you of the lives already lost. The heads of those Houses are responsible for this, all of it, and they… will… swing.”

Olwen Lazarus and Norfolk Ravenscroft immediately nodded. It took Walter Sinclair three seconds to agree (I counted). But Eirik Drakkar, who, with every encounter I disliked more and who had lost more than anyone in that tent except me, glared at Apollo for long moments before he finally jerked up his chin.

But what surprised me was when Calder Drakkar muttered, “I claim hangman.”

Then I was again surprised when Garik returned on his own mutter, “No, brother, I kick the lever.”

“There will be enough that you both can share,” Apollo declared then he ordered them, “Go to Balthazar and Quincy. Dispatch them to find the witch, scout the situation and give them leave to commence with capture if they feel it is safe or return if we need to send an outfit.” He turned his eyes to Ravenscroft. “The number of Frey’s Raiders is diminished and those left will remain here for the princess’s protection but you have skilled Raiders amongst your troops. Chose those most stealthy to go forth and secure our queen. She, like our princess, grieves and it is our duty to see to it she grieves amongst those who can offer her comfort, not alone and captive in an enemy camp.”

“Hear, hear,” Olwen Lazarus murmured, my eyes moved to him, I smiled and upon receiving it, my (kind of) uncle smiled back.

Apollo swept his eyes through the group and stated quietly, “Let us not delay,” which I was learning was his way of suggesting people do what he said when he said it and telling them he was not pleased when they didn’t.

Something else that reminded me of Frey.

Therefore the men in the tent didn’t hesitate further but filed out, Garik and Calder doing so after nodding to me and I smiled at them, pleased at their show of loyalty for their brother and Lunwyn and saddened he’d never know they’d shown it. Eirik, as usual, didn’t look at me which didn’t bother me, I didn’t like his eyes on me anyway. Ravenscroft, Sinclair and Lazarus stopped to mutter polite words to me before taking their leave.

I watched the flaps of the tent swing closed behind Olwen then I stood, looked into Apollo’s remarkable (it had to be said because they truly were) green eyes and whispered, “I should get back to the wounded.”

He crossed his arms on his chest and studied me. Then he said softly, “Finnie, we’ve not had a skirmish in days. Their wounds are healing and not one of them requires your constant attention.”

“They bled for my son,” I reminded him.

“They bled for Lunwyn,” he corrected me.

I pressed my lips together and nodded because he was right.

He continued to study me. Then he pulled a breath in through his nose, closed his eyes and turned his head to the side and when he did this, I studied him for this was unusual for Apollo. He rarely showed emotion and the only emotion I’d ever seen him show was gentleness to me.

And, sometimes, anger.

But now he looked conflicted.

Then he opened his eyes and looked back at me.

“It is early,” he said gently, “for you, too early for such talk. For Lunwyn, however, it is not and therefore it must be said. But I have concerns, concerns I discussed with Lazarus and Ravenscroft, concerns they share.”

I felt my brows draw together as I felt a thrill up my spine. “What concerns?”

As was his way when he was with me, he continued speaking gently. “You are vulnerable, Finnie, as is your child.”

I knew this. Boy, did I know it. Therefore I nodded.

Then I reminded him, “I have Frey’s men. They will stand behind me.”

And I knew they would for Ruben told me they would, in fact, he vowed it.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “And this is an alternative for you to consider.”

I blinked.

An alternative?

“I have another choice?” I asked, sounding confused.

“I think, and Ravenscroft and Lazarus agree, that once this is done, the traitors are punished and Lunwyn is again at peace, you should wed me.”

I blinked at the same time I drew in a sharp breath but Apollo didn’t stop speaking.

“I will vow to keep you and your child safe. I will vow to stand beside you and assist as you raise him king. And he will have a brother and sister who I’ve no doubt will dote on him.”

I said nothing, just stared.

Apollo got closer, dipped his chin and held my eyes but he didn’t touch me.

Then he whispered, “We share something, you and I, something no one but us understands. I do not offer you avowals of love and I think you understand I never will. I understand I will not receive the same from you. But our union would provide stability for our country, a mother for my children, a father for your child and company for us both. If your heart was to mend in such a way that you grow to find me pleasing, then perhaps we will create our own family. If not, I will understand and I will take my attentions elsewhere.” Eyes wide in shock, I opened my mouth to speak but he shook his head and lifted a hand. “This is not for now. This is for you to consider. This is for much later. This is simply an option, Finnie, nothing more. There will be no animosity should you refuse and you leave this tent knowing, no matter what you chose, I stand behind you and always will.”

I pressed my lips together again, this time for a different reason then I let them go and forced out a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

Apollo nodded, moved slightly away and I knew by the look on his face his mind was on other things and he was done with me.

But I wasn’t done with him.

“Apollo,” I called, his eyes focused on me and then, haltingly, I asked, “Does it… I mean, I get the sense from you, um…” I stopped, his brows rose and I finished on a whisper, “It doesn’t get better does it?”

His gaze grew soft and his lids slightly lowering but I still saw the flash of pain in his eyes, the same pain I felt in my soul.

Then he whispered his reply, “No, sweet Finnie, it does not.”

I nodded. I knew that. I saw it in his eyes, felt it in my soul. I knew it.

It just sucked to have it confirmed.

Then I watched him suddenly tense, his torso twisting so he could look to the flaps of the tent and he ordered, “Remain here,” as he turned and walked to them.

I heard a restless commotion that seemed to come from all around before he made it to the flaps and then they were thrown open and Lavinia rushed in followed by Valentine.

Their eyes went to Apollo first (he was a big guy and standing in their way so they would do) then they both looked at me.

“We’re bound,” Valentine hissed, sounding pissed and worried at the same time but looking only pissed.

My body got tight.

“What?” Apollo clipped.

“We are bound,” Lavinia repeated, her eyes moving to Apollo. “The witch is close, she’s bound us. Something is –”

She didn’t finish as shouts were heard, running feet, galloping horses and Apollo turned to me.

“You and the witches, remain here. I will call Frey’s men to your guard,” he ordered then stalked quickly to a table, grabbed his sword in its scabbard and stalked even more quickly out of the tent.

Without word or movement, we all stared at the tent flaps after he left. The sound of shouting, running feet and galloping horses increased significantly within moments of his departure and this gave me a very bad feeling.

“We’re under attack,” I whispered.

“Do you think?” Valentine muttered drolly.

I glared at her; she held my glare and raised her brows.

I tore my eyes away.

Damn, shit, damn, shit, damn, shit, shit, shit.

I looked around Apollo’s tent and saw his war chests, the quiver chockfull of arrows and the bow leaning against the wall of the tent and I dashed to them.

“Finnie, what are you doing?” Lavinia asked.

“Arming myself,” I answered, dropping to my knees and throwing open a chest to rummage inside.

“The Drakkar’s men will –” Lavinia started.

But I cut her off, finding what I needed and pulling it out, I gained my feet while talking. “Frey’s men will put their lives on the line to keep ours safe. That doesn’t mean we can’t help.”

“Seoafin, I don’t think –” Valentine started but I turned to them and interrupted her too while strapping on the loaded knife belt.

“Come quickly to these chests and find a daggers of a size and heft you’re comfortable with. Don’t bother with a belt, just take the dagger,” I finished saying this to two wide-eyed witches as the noises outside grew louder, the increasingly alarmed vibe penetrated the tent and I reached for the quiver to strap it on, commanding, “Now, ladies.”

Lavinia shook her head to shake herself out of her stupor and dashed to the trunk. Valentine stared at me clearly rethinking her show of remorse and not spiriting herself home before her magic was bound again, this time during what was sounding more and more like a battle zone.

“Valentine,” I said warningly as I finished with the strap on the quiver and reached for the bow.

“Merde,” she muttered and stomped forward.

They got their daggers and we all stood by the tent flaps waiting, waiting and then freaking waiting some more for one of Frey’s men to come.

But the noise escalated outside the tent, grunts and clashes of steel, whizzing arrows, male cries of surprise or pain, galloping hooves.

None of it good.

All of it seriously, fucking scary.

Then we all jumped as a sword tore into the side of the tent and slashed through. I turned to the sword, lifting an arm to yank an arrow from my quiver, setting it to the bow and pulling back the string but the sword disappeared and we heard the ring of steel against steel.

A mishit.

I released the tension on the bow but none of the tension left my body and I turned to face the tent flaps with the arrow at the ready and it was then I realized my breathing was not steady.

Not even close.

“My princess,” Lavinia whispered, “The Drakkar’s men, they are loyal to their Drakkar and to you. If they could have come to us –”

“They will come,” I hissed, staring at the tent flaps, refusing to believe what I would have to believe if they didn’t and that was that they couldn’t and the only thing that would hold them back was something I would not think about.

No, I refused to believe that even as the vibe pounding against the sides of the tent became more desperate, the noises of war coming so fast, one on top of the other, it was impossible to distinguish them and two arrows tore through the tent walls on the opposite side to us, imbedding themselves in carpet and snow but, if we had been close, they would have imbedded themselves in one of us.

Shit!

“We’re sitting ducks, Seoafin,” Valentine snapped and my eyes shot to her.

Crap. She was right.

So I made my decision.

“Right, so, we fight our way to escape if we have to,” I announced, Valentine nodded instantly, I looked to Lavinia, she did too though hers was not instant and then I ordered, “I’ve had training, not a lot but some so you stick with me, hands on me at all times so I know I’ve got you. You see a threat, you tell me, point it out and I’ll do what I can. You’ve got a shot to stick someone who seems to wish us ill, go for it. We are not on the offense, ladies. I carry the future king of this land and we must all do what we can to keep him safe so our goal is simply to get clear and get away. Got me?” More nods, I nodded back, looked to the tent flaps and whispered, “Okay, girls, let’s go.”

Then we went and the minute we exited the tent we saw chaos, blood, wounded men, dead men, dead horses, arrows in the ground and body pieces. The clashes of steel rung loud enough to deafen, the whispers of arrows whizzing one on top of the other. It was hideous, extreme but I felt Valentine and Lavinia’s hands on me, I thought of the little being in my belly, I blocked it all out and I moved swiftly. Leading my witches, we skirted sparring men, ducked around tents when horses galloped through, picked our way over obstacles but steadily and as quickly as we could we kept moving.

Twice, I had to raise my bow, take aim and let fly as I caught a soldier’s eye and knew he meant harm.

Twice, my aim was true.

More blood on my hands.

I still didn’t care. The only thing I thought was I was pretty fucking pleased I’d practiced so goddamned much.

I kept moving, quickly, always vigilant, glancing left and right, up and down, over my shoulder, around tents, my witches always with me.

We got out of the tent area and into the forest but it was happening there too.

God, there were so many of them. Men all around, beasts, dead, wounded, it was everywhere, blood staining the melting snow in what seemed like a river of red and pink.

But our way was clearer, we only had to look around trees not tents and we moved more swiftly, gaining ground. I was feeling hopeful until I felt the loss of a grip on my gown. I heard Valentine cry out and I whirled, bow up, arrow at the ready and I looked into a man’s eyes. That man was holding Lavinia with a dagger at her throat while her hands were curled around his forearm, her back arched, her head pressed hard in his shoulder to get away from the blade, her eyes filled with terror.

I aimed my arrow at his face. “Drop the blade.”

The battle raged on around us as Valentine pressed close to my back with hers, protecting it.

“Drop the bow, Winter Princess, or she dies then I take you,” he replied, pressing his blade deeper and Lavinia whimpered.

I pulled the bow back tighter. “Drop the blade,” I repeated.

“Your life for hers or I take both,” he returned.

I closed one eye and lined my arrowhead to my target.

“Drop the blade,” I whispered.

“Listen, princess, listen all around you. Your men lose. Die now or die at the noose. Our heads hold no affection for you as the prince had done. You will drop through the gallows,” he whispered back. “Your choice.”

He was wrong.

I had another choice.

And I took it.

I let my fingers loose and hit a bulls-eye, he fell back, dead instantly as my arrow shot through his eye socket and pierced his brain, his arms dropping and Lavinia fell forward to her hands and knees.

“Let’s go,” I commanded but suddenly Lavinia’s head snapped up then twisted like she was listening to something and Valentine whispered, “Oh my goddess,” at my back.

I opened my mouth to tell them to get a move on when it happened.

I heard it.

Flapping.

Loud, leathery flapping that accompanied an enormous shadow that was sweeping quickly over us, so vast, it blotted out the sun.

Lavinia pushed up so she was on her knees, her head tilting back to look at the sky, her lips parting in shock as I felt Valentine tense behind me and the noises of battle faded as men stopped to stare.

I looked up and that was when I saw them.

Dragons.

Dragons.

A delicate, delicious shiver slid over every inch of my skin as I watched the huge beasts fly through the air, webbed wing to webbed wing, hundreds of them, big as houses, their barbed tails snapping, their ferocious, horned heads tilted down, their beady eyes sweeping the landscape then it started.

They spewed fire.

Streams of it shafting out of their mouths, screams of shock silenced in nanoseconds when the flames hit their targets one after another after another.

It was terrifying.

It was awe-inspiring.

“Run!” Lavinia shrieked, gaining her feet, grabbing my hand and Valentine’s, she tugged us and we took off as the dragons flew, raining fire, incinerating men leaving nothing but ashes and melted steel in their wake, trees burnt instantly to a cinder, snow melted straight to the earth, and through it, leaving a charred crater.

We all halted as one when a man combusted ten feet in front of us, we backed up several paces, shifted simultaneously and ran through the random shafts of flames, dodging this way and that, certain to get caught up in it as the fire streamed down all around us.

Then we reached a clearing, halted at the vision before us and instinctively huddled together, all of us staring at a line of standing dragons, wings rolling and curling, long necks arching and writhing, tails snapping and thrashing, claws scoring the snow and then, as one, we turned to run but halted dead in our tracks when the next thing happened.

What appeared to be a large, white, sparkling meteor fell to the earth one hundred yards away exploding in a burst of white light from which a misty ice blue ring shot out moving so fast, if I’d blinked, I would have missed it.

And it left in its wake two types of men. Those frozen completely in their tracks in whatever position the ice blue ring caught them in and those who still had the capacity to move and did, running for their lives.

“We must go, we must go,” Lavinia shouted, pulling at my hand and I felt Valentine grab my other one and tug.

But I couldn’t move.

“I can’t move,” I forced through immobile lips.

“Pick her up!” Valentine yelled, sounding panicked and when this didn’t work she screamed, “Drag her!”

They pulled, tugged, pushed and yanked but my body was rooted to the snow.

I was caught in the ice ring and I could tell by the frightful, restless sounds of the dragons behind me they were about to blow.

“Go!” I cried through my frozen lips.

“My princess –”

“Go, go, go!” I screamed but it came out weak for I couldn’t make it stronger.

“Seoafin –” Valentine whispered urgently, her body close, her mouth at my ear, her hand still tugging at mine.

“Take her, Valentine. You know the beasts are preparing and you know to look after your own neck. Take Lavinia, get her safe and the minute you can, go home,” I implored.

“My goddess of –”

“Take her!” I cried, the words strange coming through unmoving lips but the tone easily read.

“Goddess!” Valentine exclaimed then she whispered, “You must know, now, that I am sorry, my goddess of love, sorry for everything.”

“Go!”

She hesitated then I felt both of my hands squeezed by both of theirs and then they were gone.

I was alone.

I had thought when the dragons came…

Hoped…

But I was wrong.

I was alone.

Frozen but my blood was singing with adrenalin.

This was it.

My last adventure.

And I was ending it alone. At least Mom and Dad had each other.

But I was alone and terrified.

I couldn’t even close my eyes.

Shit.

“I’m coming to you, baby,” I whispered to Frey but it came out naturally, my lips moved with my words and I blinked.

I blinked.

Actually blinked, my eyelids moving and everything.

Holy moly!

“No, my love, I’ve come to you,” I heard a beautiful, sweet, achingly familiar voice behind me and, in control of my body, I whirled and stared, mouth open, eyes wide, belly plummeting, heart in my throat at my husband who was standing three feet away.

Then he lifted an arm and the dragons let loose, their massive bodies bulged, necks extended, their fanged mouths opened and flames erupted, shot forward and I stared as we were surrounded by an inferno over our heads, at our sides, my gown blowing with the force of it, the heat enveloping me, the bloody snow melting to a river rushing over my boots but Frey’s body, to my shock, was impervious and acted as a shield against the flames.

Then he dropped his arm and the flames immediately stopped.

I knew everything behind me was gone, reduced to ash. But in front of me stood Frey backed by a line of fierce, colossal, terrifyingly beautiful dragons.

It couldn’t be real.

“Are you a dream?” I whispered and his lips tipped up.

“No,” he answered.

“A ghost?” I was still whispering.

“No, my wee one.”

My wee one.

My wee one.

My heart squeezed.

“You’re alive,” I breathed.

“Yes,” he stated the obvious for there he was, tall, broad, strong, powerful, beautiful and best of all… breathing.

“You’re alive,” I repeated on a whisper, my nose stinging, my eyes blinking against the wet because I didn’t want him hazy, I wanted him clear, I wanted to see him clear.

“Yes,” he repeated.

“Alive,” I breathed.

His handsome head tilted slightly to the side, his heavy brows drew together and he asked, “Are you still frozen by the elfin magic, my Finnie, is that why you don’t come to me?”

I stared at him.

Then I sprang from my feet, jumping into his arms and they closed around me, strong, safe, tight and definitely, definitely real.

I held on tight to his shoulders, shoved my face in his neck and burst out crying.

“They… they… the… the… they,” I stammered into his neck, my arms convulsing, trying to hold him closer, “they told me you were dead.”

“I am not,” Frey’s voice rumbled and his arms squeezed.

I jerked my head back and glared at him before I shrieked, “Where have you been?”

He looked down at me and one of his hands came to my face, his thumb gliding through the wetness that was still coming and he said gently, “I was injured, gravely, close to death. I convinced my men to leave me to my passing and see to business, something we had all agreed, should such occur, we would do. The elves sensed my injuries and the extent of them luckily before the adela burned and, as I had arranged with them prior, they sought Kell and brought him to me. Kell had the adela branch, we used it and he and I both went to the elfin realm where they healed me.”

I blinked and then stared.

Then I asked, “What?”

Frey’s eyes went soft and slightly amused at my blink and he explained, “The adelas are gone but the magic of that bough and the reason it is so important is that it can be used by The Frey to move to the elfin realm and to bring the elves to our realm, say, should something happen to the adelas or he needs them urgently and cannot get to a tree.”

“Wow,” I whispered and he grinned. “So they healed you?” I asked quietly.

“Their magic is strong but my injuries were severe so it took some time but yes, my wee Finnie, they healed me.”

“They healed you?” I repeated.

“Yes, my love.”

“Like, good as new?”

He grinned and answered gently, “I’m clearly not a babe so, no, but fit as when you last saw me.”

I closed my eyes at the memory, my head jerking at the power of it and Frey’s hand at my cheek moved to cup my jaw and his arm gave me a squeeze before I heard him amend on a murmur, “Or moments before the moment you last saw me.”

I kept my eyes closed and dropped my forehead to his chest. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m sorry, my love, there was nothing I could do about that. I was in no state and Kell nor the elves could move between realms without me.” Frey whispered into my hair but I shook my head as my body started shaking with new tears and I repeated, “I thought you were dead.”

“Finnie,” he muttered as I held him tighter, my body pressing into his like I wanted him to absorb me.

“I said things –” I started, my voice hoarse, my throat clogged with tears.

“We will not discuss this now,” he said quietly but firmly. “I wronged you, my love, but I will explain –”

My head shot back and I whispered fervently, “You did but it was me… me who said unforgiveable things and –”

I stopped when his thumb came to my lips and pressed as his face got close.

“It is for me to forgive or not to forgive and you said no less than I deserved,” he stated, again soft but firm. “But I have an enemy to vanquish, Apollo and my men are standing behind you getting more and more impatient by the second having ceased being touched by lovers reunited about five minutes ago and now wishing my ear. So, we will discuss it later.”

I stared in his beautiful, beautiful olive green eyes with their thick, lush lashes.

Then I whispered, “Okay.”

He grinned.

My eyes dropped to his mouth.

God, I loved his grin. I loved his eyes. I loved the feel of his arms around me.

And I loved him.

Therefore, I blurted, “I love you, Frey Drakkar.”

He closed his eyes, dropped his forehead to mine and whispered, “And I you, Finnie Drakkar.”

I closed my eyes too and sighed, my body relaxing into my husband’s.

But my husband’s body didn’t relax against mine. His head tilted, his lips found mine, they opened, mine reciprocated and he kissed me. He took his time, he did it right and it was the best kiss I ever had.

Save one.

The one he gave me at our wedding.

That would always be at the top of the list.

Even if, with this one, cool-as-shit dragons were watching.