When his worst fear comes true, Asgard's Dark Prince will stop at nothing to rescue his pregnant consort. Yet, not even the threat of Asgard's forces looming in the skies over Alfheim can force the Unseelie Winter Realm Elves to produce Shannon when...
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Spine rigid with chest-tearing agony, I gasped as I swam to consciousness. My eyelids heavy weights, tears squeezed from the corners, and the torment dragged me under.
Breath-stealing pain greeted me anew the next time I woke, rubbing at dried crusts gluing my eyes closed. Either my sight didn't work or there was no light. Gods, everything hurt, my muscles and joints a wretched suffering. Before I figured out my surroundings, again, the throbbing robbed me of my senses.
With my teeth gritted at the intense ache within my chest—a pulsing black hole devouring my soul—I was slower to open my eyelids this time. After a few blinks, my outstretched hand became visible in front of my face.
There was a little light now.
How much time had passed? When I tried to shift positions, my body felt bruised. Even moving my fingers sent spikes of pain flaring. Cautiously, I stifled a groan. Oh, god... had they beaten me while I was unconscious?
Carefully probing with my hands, I couldn't detect any specific injuries on my skull or chest. Why did I hurt so much? My heart had a tenderness like it had been held in someone's fist and squeezed until it almost burst. As I went to lift my head, I hissed. Damn it to hell. Spikes of pain stabbed at my temples and pounded with every heartbeat.
A sudden kick.
Gods, my baby!
Gasping, I ran my hands over my abdomen. My son's second kick had a relieved breath exploding out of my lungs. At least he seemed fine.
With a groan, I managed to push myself to a sitting position. I was in a rough stone-walled room with a dry dirt floor. In addition to musty earth, the distinct odour of urine came from my left. A faint yellow light trickled in through the barred door.
A prison cell of some kind?
Rustling noises and breathing echoed in the gloom. There were others in here with me. As I squinted, I made out unmoving bodies and some that blinked with wide eyes, looking around. Women, all pregnant women like me.
A jolt of realization had my fists clenching.
And kids. They'd fucking taken kids.
The children were the unconscious forms, sprawled on the floor in heaps. Like they'd been dumped and left in whatever position they'd landed.
Memory returned in a cacophony of pain, sound, and fear that brought a metallic taste to my tongue.
The Wild Hunt attack. The troll. The hellhounds, redcaps, and headless dullahan. Heart thundering in my chest, I shuddered as I recalled a huge white stag with eyes of flame and an old cruel-looking man on an odd-shaped black stallion.
Something was wrong with my leg. Abnormally heavy, pain radiated up from my foot.
Had I twisted it? Broken it? Narrowing my eyes in the faint light, I made out the shape of some kind of dark iron cuff around my ankle. The last memory I had from the attack was that old man coming towards me with it, and then intense searing agony when he snapped the metal on my leg. With my fingertips, I probed the cuff and tried to create some illumination to see it better.
