Crown of Crimson (Underworld Gods 2)

But when I saw Surma put his skeleton hands on her, I felt a protective beast rise up inside me, one I’d rarely felt before. I wanted to kill Surma more for that than for him being a traitor to the kingdom. I realized the lengths I would go to for her, and that scared me. Moved me.

As was the way she looked when I fucked her, when she was able to look at me, all of me, just as myself. No mask. No hiding behind anything. Just me, as I am. It’s not that I didn’t think she’d be enthralled, it’s that I didn’t think I’d feel so much warmth from her. Like she was baring herself to me at the same time, like she finally fucking trusted me.

And so, after spending all night thinking about her, about my future, about strategies, I realized the time was now. We had to get married, and maybe, if we were lucky, it would be something we both wanted.

CRASH

Suddenly a loud muffled noise comes from outside the cave, parts of the ceiling crashing down.

“What was that?” I yell, nearly falling over.

“Your keep is under attack,” Vipunen says simply.

Another loud explosion rocks the ground beneath me and I press my gloved hands against my mask to hold it on.

“By who? Do you know?”

“By Louhi’s son,” he says.

My son? Tuonen? That doesn’t make any sense, the boy’s ambitions are ridiculously low. All he wants in life is to watch porn, ferry the dead, and be the referee for the Bone Matches.

“The shaman,” Vipunen adds. “Rasmus.”

My fist clenches. Fucking redheaded weasel. How the fuck is he attacking Shadow’s End right now?

I turn to run out of the cave but the giant calls after me. “There is no use in hurrying,” he says. “By the time you get there, it will be over. The attack can’t do any major damage, it is only a diversion.”

I come to a stop, my blood going cold. “A diversion for what?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

“Rasmus is here for Hanna,” he says. “He is taking her with him.”

It’s like all the rage in the world starts to build inside my veins, growing tight and molten hot, ready for implosion. “Kidnapping my bride on my wedding day?” I grind out.

A pause hangs in the air, followed by a distant boom.

“She has not been kidnapped,” Vipunen says after a moment. “She was given a choice. She chose to go willingly. She chose to leave you. On your wedding day.” He adds that last part as if he has spite for me.

I still. My heart lurches against my ribs. The rage inside me ebbs and flows, changing and morphing. The anger goes from Rasmus, to myself, and then to Hanna.

Hanna.

“She left me,” I say, practically stuttering. “She can’t. That shouldn’t be possible.” Now my rage is directed to Vipunen. “If you knew this was going to happen, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can’t affect what is already in motion.”

“So what the fuck do I do now?”

My bride. My ex-wife’s son has my fucking bride.

“I believe you know what to do, Tuoni. You do not need my counsel on that.”

He is right. Hanna is mine, no one else’s, whether she likes it or not. She entered into this bargain with me, and it was a fair trade. She offered herself up to me in countless ways, and I was a gentleman enough to not take her up on all of them. She is supposed to be with me, as my bride, for eternity, and she’s gone back on her fucking word.

“I’m going to kill her,” I seethe. “I’m going to cut her fucking wings right off.”

“And if she doesn’t die, it might mean she’s the one,” Vipunen says. “And you’ll have to rule alongside her for the rest of your life, or face the end of your reign.”

Fuck.

“Fuck!” I roar, throwing my head back, my yell echoing throughout the cave. I’m breathing hard, feeling my heartbeat in my head, and I just want to rage, rip this mask right off and break everything in this cave. But Vipunen would no doubt break me first.

So I have to live with the rage for a few moments. I have to make friends with it. I have to let the red turn to black, let it settle in my bones.

And there, hidden underneath all the molten hot torment, is the source of my rage.

It’s pain.

It’s a dull ache in my ribs, right around my heart.

The same kind of ache I would get when I looked at her beautiful face as she came.

Oh, I ached for her. Craved her, possessed her, relished her when my cock was deep inside, when I felt she was no longer mortal but instead part of my skin and bones.

I ached for my little bird.