Page 156 of Master of Storms
A rough hand caught her face, and she was forced to look up into the sneering expression of the most handsome, most beautiful man she’d ever—
No. Handsome was her husband’s once-broken nose. Handsome was the kindness in Rurik’s smile, the joy in his amber eyes when she teased him…. There was nothing beautiful about the cold, sinister smile on this creature’s face.
Nothing but malice.
And the bow in his hand gave her no doubts she was looking at her husband’s would-be murderer.
“Get out of my way,” she said, looking for Rurik desperately.
Someone slammed into the elf, driving him away from her.Andromeda. Freyja lurched to her feet, one arm clutched against her chest.
But as she watched, an image of herself fell to her knees beside Rurik, sobbing as she reached for his hand—
It was enough to cut through her grief and fear.
Freyja reared back in shock. “What…?”
It was so real, so lifelike, that she might have already been at his side.
Glamor.
Rurik needed her.
But she suddenly realized that the danger was right here, right now. And if she didn’t pull herself together and defend herself, then there would be nobody to keep Rurik anchored to the mortal realm.
She spun around, calling lightning to her fingertips as she turned on the elf. Ishtar flinched away from it.
But the bastard grappled with Andromeda, and to wield her magic would be to hurt theZilittuqueen too.
“Andromeda.” Draco drew his sword with a steely rasp, and Freyja suddenly realized that the five of them were trapped in some sort of translucent bubble. She could seedrekiandalfarfighting all around them; she could even hear the distant clash of swords, as if the fighting was miles away.
But nobody burst into this little circle on the ground.
They moved around it as if not even aware of it.
Damn it. She was trapped in a side pocket of reality with only Draco, Andromeda, and Ishtar for company.
And her husband was dying on the other side.
Draco’s voice held a strange lilt to it as he stepped forward. “If you hurt one hair on my queen’s head, then I will make you beg for the relief of death.”
The elf grabbed a fistful of theZilittuqueen’s hair and sniffed it with a vicious smile. “Stay rightwhere you are.”
His voice cut through them all, and Freyja’s feet glued themselves to the ground.What on earth?
Fury etched itself on Draco’s face, and he held one hand toward Andromeda. The impotent look of rage in his eyes was frightening.
“Let her go!” Freyja cried, drawing the knife at her side.
The creature grabbed Andromeda harder and put the knife to her throat. “Oh, no, a royal decree. Whatever shall I do, Your Highness?” His voice changed, softened, slid over her skin like silk. “Put the knife down, little queen, and get on your hands and knees andcrawltoward me.”
And then he laughed.
Freyja’s hand tightened around the hilt of the blade. She could sense his voice slithering over her skin, seeking a way inside her head.
No. If she gave in, shewouldcrawl, and then he’d bury that knife in her heart. Her other hand splayed over her lower abdomen. It wasn’t just her life he toyed with, though she hadn’t even had the chance to tell Rurik the truth. She’d wanted to wait for a moment where he wasn’t so worried about his mother’s scheme.
She’d wanted it to be a moment they could enjoy.
