4. Dörr

4

D?RR

S he didn't know what manner of creature she'd called to her aid.

She didn't know anything about her heritage, name, or power. Let alone what it meant for us to be dark alfar.

Anxiety twisted inside me, vicious talons of dread tearing through my chest as if my gargoyle fought inside me. I didn't want her to send us away. To refuse us. Ever.

Especially now that she'd fed on me.

I'd thought to give her only enough of my essence to stabilize her until we could come up with a better solution. I'd never thought she'd actually sink her fangs into my flesh and feed on the darkness that made up my dark alfar form.

Never. In a million years. Such a thing had never happened. I was sure of it.

Dark alfar were demonic, twisted creatures that even Loki left alone. We had been here since the dawn of time and the fall of the first night, but for us… dawn never came.

We knew only the darkness of Hvergelmir and the eternal night of Hel.

And now one of Hel's queens had found her way to us. Certainly not a coincidence.

Goddess, please forgive me. I meant no harm to Your blessed child.

"You don't understand," Svar said gruffly. "We're alfar. We don't carry blood in our bodies."

She swallowed hard, her fingers trembling slightly on my shoulder. "The essence you spoke of."

"Yes."

"But what is it?"

I shrugged, unable to answer. I couldn't think of a way to describe the black, oily substance without terrifying her.

"Take the night from the sky and the shadow from the earth," Svar said. "Compress it into a bottle. That is what we are."

Myrk gaped at our friend. "Fucking hell, Svar. You'd think in two thousand years of brotherhood you would have told me you were a fucking poet."

Svar gave him a lopsided grin that looked so out of place on a gargoyle's face that I snorted.

Her fingers trailed across my throat. "I wish I could see what you look like."

I ground my jaws, averting the ugly face that she couldn't see. "I'm darkness, my queen. We all are. If we're not darkness, we're gargoyles made to be so ugly and formidable that even demons are afraid to step foot near what we protect."

Her head cocked slightly and she stroked her fingers up my throat. Her other hand joined in, allowing her to see with her fingertips. Goddess help me, I knelt there and bore every excruciating moment, praying it would never end.

Even though I knew it would. She would turn away in horror. No queen would ever deliberately take dark alfar as their loyal Blood.

"It doesn't matter what you look like. You saved me from J?rmungandr."

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to watch the inevitable fear and disgust that would spread on her face as her hands roamed up to my cheeks. My features were too large, though I was less twisted in this form than the gargoyle. "If sleeping for a few thousand years brought me to this moment, where I could save you, then I count myself lucky indeed, my queen. But that doesn't mean that you should consider…"

I hesitated, unsure how much to say. I didn't want to assume that she even knew what a queen's Blood was. She couldn't remember how she'd ended up in the serpent's belly, or even her goddess's name. Let alone her own.

"I remember what it means to take a Blood," she whispered as she stepped closer to me. Of course, she'd taken my essence. My thoughts would be open to her now. "Who better to guard as Blood than creatures even demons fear to cross?"

It was my turn to gape at her. I didn't know what to say. That she'd even consider such a thing…

If I had blood in my body, the tips of my ears would have been crisped. The rest of my blood would have settled in my groin.

Aye, even dark alfar had needs. Not that we had many opportunities to indulge in sex. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been tempted to mate. Certainly not since Hel's rivers went dry.

"You're certainly taking this all fairly well." Myrk gave her a disgusted, suspicious look. "We're creatures of nightmare. Even Loki won't mess with us. We can't leave this realm, and Hvergelmir is no place for a living, breathing creature of Midgard."

She turned her head and gave him a look that sent chills down my spine. The regal tilt of her head, the proud gleam in her eyes, the grim, determined slant of her lips. She was a queen indeed. The goddess Hel must be well pleased with Her daughter.

"I've been trapped, slowly devoured and crushed for what seemed like an eternity in the belly of a giant snake. Finding out the ones who saved me from that fate are dark elves isn't that big a deal. So yeah, I guess I'm fucking taking it pretty well overall."

Myrk dropped to his knees beside me. "Would you consider feeding on me too, my queen?"

"Yes," she said simply. "I will."

Svar knelt on her other side. "And me, my queen?"

Her lips quirked. "If you wish."

I didn't know what to say. In all the many years of my life, I had dreamed for impossible things. I'd dreamed of escaping this realm. Of seeing the sun without turning into stone. Or walking across a field of tall green grass dotted with wildflowers as a man in human form.

But never in a million years would it have dawned on me that I could have a queen. That she'd call me as her Blood. That I would be allowed to serve. And touch. And hold such a precious gift.

I would have wept tears of joy if I had such fluids in my alfar form.