33. Danica

Danica

33

M y lungs scream for air, my limbs ache from the exertion, and the metallic tang of blood lingers in my mouth.Rhyland's reassuring presence stands like a fortress beside me, his chest heaving with the effort of our latest encounter.

I fall to my knees in exhaustion, barely comprehending our victory. We have just emerged victorious from a brutal skirmish with ogres and serpents, their forms now lifeless and scattered across the clearing.

I become aware of hands lifting me up.Rhylandpulls me into a crushing embrace, his entire body trembling.

"Come here,Angel," each word punctuated by a panting breath. "You okay?" There's a desperate edge to his voice, needing to know I'm not hurt.

I sag againstRhyland, my body trembling with exhaustion and the aftermath of adrenaline. He wraps an arm around me, holding me close as we survey the carnage that surrounds us.

It's a scene straight out of a horror movie, the ground littered with the broken, twisted bodies of our foes. The stench of death hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the coppery tang of blood and the acrid smell of burnt flesh.

But even amidst the horror, there's a sense of relief, of triumph. We've survived against all odds. We've faced the beasts and emerged victorious, battered and bloodied but unbroken.

I latch onto him, taking a deep, dramatic whiff. His scent is like an oceanic forest spa, if that's even a thing. "Yes, are you okay?" I toss the question back with genuine concern.

I untangle myself fromRhyland's iron grip and scope out the scene. It looks like everyone's still kicking.Erik's there, casually using a deceased ogre as a napkin for his sword—ew, but efficient.Lucian's strutting over with the glee you'd expect from someone who just won an arcade jackpot.FaderynandAxilyaare playing medic with the wounded troops.

I lock eyes withFaderyn, and he throws me a silent "all's well" nod—like a cool mystical affirmation.

"Well, that was... unexpected," I let out, my voice dancing between amused and utterly gobsmacked. It's an understatement, but what else can you say when you've just faced a horde of nightmarish monsters and lived to tell the tale?

Rhyland's hand glides over my hair, his fingers finding one of my braids and giving it a playful tug. "You kicked ass,Angel," he declares, his cerulean eyes all lit up with admiration, love, and a dollop of pride that makes my heart swell.

I rise on my tiptoes, my hands cradling his bearded face as I reel him in for a kiss that's straight-up fire. Sure, he's sporting the latest in ogre blood and grime, but who's paying attention to a little battle splatter? Not me, that's for damn sure. All I care about is the feel of his lips on mine, the way his arms tighten around me like he never wants to let go.

Luciandashes forward, a wild grin spreading across his face like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh my... FUCK! That was fun, right? It's like we just duked it out with Shrek and his merry band of bog-dwellers!" he crows, his voice high with adrenaline and glee.

Pulling back fromRhyland's kiss, I can't help but chuckle atLucian's spin on the insanity we've just survived. "Luci, which wire got crossed in that brain of yours? 'Fun' is not the word I'd use for nearly getting squashed by a monster," I tease, shaking my head in disbelief.

With casual ease,Lucian's shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug, but the corners of his mouth can't help betraying his irrepressible spirit as they quirk upward. His familiar, impish grin is a captivating blend of mischief and undeniable charm—the signatureLucianbrew.

"Come on, Princess. Don't try to play coy with me—I saw that spark in your eyes," he teases, his dark brown eyes crinkling with mirth as they lock onto mine. They twinkle with the same undimmed vitality of a spirited puppy, albeit one that knows how to wrap you around its little paw.

I mentally shrug, conceding a point toLucian's oddball take on the situation. As much as I hate to admit it, there was a certain rush, a buzz that came with letting my powers loose without worrying about torching a forest-sized candle.

Perhaps I'm inching toward a truce with the magic that flows through my veins—mastering the mayhem could be my new party trick, a way to turn the tables on our enemies and give us the edge we so desperately need.

With a flick of frustration in my tone, I toss the question out like a frisbee at a picnic, "So, anyone wanna explain what that was about? Because last I checked, ogres and serpents weren't exactly on the guest list for this little camping trip."

Axilyaapproaches, her violet skin absorbing the flickering firelight and casting eerie shadows across her delicate features. She regards us with pale green eyes that hold centuries of sorrow and knowledge, a depth of understanding that makes me feel like a child playing at adulthood.

"Long before the fae courts divided,"Axilyabegins, her voice a melodic whisper that demands attention, "Ogres were gentle giants roaming the fertile plains of our realm. They tilled the land and revered nature's gifts, living in harmony with the world around them."

Rhyland's eyes bore intoAxilyawith an intensity that could cut through steel, "What the hell changed?"

Axilya's eyes dim as if the memory is a physical pain she can barely endure. "When the realm fell into discord, power struggles fractured our unity. Ogres were enslaved, beaten, and forced to fight in wars, not their own. The brutality they endured twisted their hearts into stone, turning them into the monsters we face today."

I tighten my grip onRhyland's hand, my knuckles going white as an unexpected tide of empathy surges through me for the beings we've just taken down. "So their cruelty reflects what was done to them?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Axilyanods solemnly. "Yes, Danica. Once they broke free, their vengeance knew no bounds. They lash out at any fae, seeing them as echoes of their tormentors."

Rhylandexhales sharply through his nose, "A cycle of violence begets violence," he mutters, a hard truth spoken with the weight of experience behind it.

"We can't justify what they did," I say firmly, "but getting a glimpse of their agony... it changes how I see them. It paints them in a different light, doesn't it?"

Axilyareaches out as if to touch the air between us all. "Compassion is a powerful weapon, Danica. One that can heal more than just physical wounds."

We stand in silence for a moment longer, each lost in thought overAxilya's tale of the ogres' descent into cruelty. The urge to right these wrongs burns through me, an injustice alarm bell ringing loud and clear in my head—

This is so not right.

Pity wells up inside me for the ogres; they return the favor handed to them.

Rhyland's nudge is soft against my shoulder, a gentle reminder that he's always looking out for me, even amid the chaos. "Come on,Angel," he says in a low tone, a whisper meant just for my ears. "Let's get you cleaned up."

We fish out some fresh attire from our bags and step away from the group, giving a slight nod toAxilya, who seems lost in thought, her brow furrowed as she contemplates the weight of the revelations we've just uncovered. The sparkling lake beckons, its tranquil song promising a much-needed respite from the horrors of the night.

As I sink into the water's cool embrace, I feel the tension begin to drain from my battered body, the blood and goo of the battle washing away in swirling eddies of pink and green. My fingers unravel the braids woven tight with the day's chaos, the intricate plaits coming undone beneath my touch.

"Feels good," I murmur, letting the water flow through my hair, freeing it from the tangles and snarls that have taken hold.

Rhylandis a vision of otherworldly beauty not far from where I stand. His inked designs are a bold contrast against his creamy flesh, and the moon's silver glow frames him like a warrior straight out of an ancient painting. The sight of him takes my breath away, reminding me of the strength and grace that lie beneath the surface of the man I love.

Rhylandtosses me a smile that disrupts the steady rhythm of my heartbeat, his teasing words a balm amid the night's chaos. "You're still breathtaking, even covered in ogre blood," he jests, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

In response, I flick a handful of water his way, chuckling at the absurdity of his statement. "Flatterer," I accuse, but there's no heat behind the word, only a warmth that spreads through my chest like honey.

In a flash,Rhyland's strong arms are around me, pressing my frame against his granite form in a gesture of pure possession. His fingers weave into my drenched locks, and his eyes—sapphire pools—hold my gaze with an adoration that steals the breath from my lungs. "You were amazing,baby. My badassangel," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion.

I open my mouth to volley a sassy reply, but before I can utter a word, his lips capture mine in a kiss that sets my soul on fire. Melting into him, my arms loop around his sturdy neck, returning his passion tenfold beneath the moon's ethereal glow.

But as quickly as the kiss began, it's over, and whoosh—I'm airborne, sailing over the water with a shriek that's equal parts thrill and indignation. "Are you kidding me?" I sputter as I hit the water with a splash, floundering back to my feet in a tangle of limbs and laughter. "Dirty play, Mr. Norseman!"

Swiping a soggy curtain of hair from my face, I fix my gaze on the culprit of my impromptu dive, narrowing my eyes in mock outrage. "Oh, you are so gonna pay for that, Mr. Mighty Mead," I threaten, but the effect is somewhat ruined by the grin splitting my face from ear to ear.

I throw myself atRhylandwith all the finesse of a charging knight, my arms outstretched as I aim to topple the tower of muscle and sinew that he is. But it's an epic fail, my efforts as effective as a kitten trying to take down a lion.

In a flash, I'm flung through the air again, my body as helpless as a rag doll at the mercy of his chuckle-powered wind.Rhyland's laughter rings out across the water, a sound that's as joyful as it is infectious, like he's auditioning for the role of 'Vampire with the Best Laugh.'

It's a sound that jolts my heart into a funky little dance, carving a wide grin on my face that I couldn't wipe off if I tried. Catching a glimpse of this playful, let-your-hair-down side ofRhylandis like hitting the jackpot of smiles—I'm here for it, for this carefree, joy-soaked Viking vamp version of the man I love that's all fun and games.

But beneath the laughter and the play, I can sense the deeper meaning behind his actions. This is his personal mission, his way of anchoring me to sanity, like a lifeline thrown across the surging seas of crazy about to break over us. He knows that in the days to come, moments like these will be few and far between, and he's determined to make the most of every second we have together.

With a sudden surge of speed,Rhylandswoops in, snatching me up in his iron grip and pulling me flush against his chest. "Fair warning,Angel—I've got the 'Water Warlord' trophy on my shelf. Undefeated champ," he teases, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine, his dimpled smirk playing a ridiculous game of hopscotch with my heartbeat.

"Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls," I quip, a playful glint in my eye as I gaze up at him, my hands resting on the solid planes of his chest.

Rhyland's eyes ignite, a steamy cocktail of desire and tenderness brewing in their ocean depths. "Nope. You are the first," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that steals the breath from my lungs.

"Why can't I ever get enough of you?" he says right before his lips set on a collision course with mine. The kiss is electric, a searing flash of heat and passion that sets my blood on fire, my body melting into his like wax under a flame.

His hands roam my curves, mapping every inch of my skin with a reverence that borders on worship, his touch both gentle and demanding, a silent plea for more. I respond in kind, my fingers tangling in his hair, my nails raking down his back as I pull him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him against me.

At this moment, nothing else exists but the two of us, our bodies entwined beneath the starry sky, the rest of the world falling away until there is only the heat of his skin, the taste of his lips, the pounding of our hearts in perfect sync.