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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Each day, I got noticeably weaker. Or at least, what I presumed to be a day. With no distinction between night and day, I'd lost track of time. Unfortunately, I'd left the watch Loki had made me at the cottage when Kara, Mist, Suzie, and I had gone visiting castles for the day. I mourned the loss of it keenly. My best guess was I'd been chained in this workshop for about two weeks. It was hard to be sure. Exhaustion plagued me, and I kept falling asleep.
Fjalar had harvested blood from me five more times. Each time, it took longer for the wounds to heal, and I slept longer afterwards. Although they used it sparingly for themselves, it seemed they were selling casks of mead infused with my blood. Disgusting, but I couldn't stop them. Twice now, Galar had left the workshop with a small wagon of infused mead, returning the next day to crow with Fjalar about how much they had made in trade.
My eyelids were so heavy, like weights pulling me down to the ocean's depths. At times, I wondered if I'd fall asleep and not wake again.
"Why are you so tired, girl?" Fjalar demanded. "You should recover faster. Are you a goddess of anything?"
"Ocean, forest," I mumbled. No way would I tell him I was a fertility goddess, too. Given the way they'd treated me thus far, I wasn't willing to risk them getting the idea to use sex to revive me. I was not that liberal with my affections, nor did I trust they wouldn't sell my body in addition to my blood. Especially since Frigga had told me sex wasn't an unusual aspect of Sidhe rituals. Who knew what dwarves thought about such things? I was not having sex with anyone who wasn't Loki.
"Ocean, huh?" He walked into one of the adjoining rooms and brought out a large metal tub. He dropped it beside the bed with a loud clang on the stone floor that had me wincing despite my fatigue. At the workbench with chemistry supplies, he picked up a box and dumped the contents into the tub. Moving down the wall, he uncoiled a hose and started pouring steaming water into the tub.
When it was three-quarters of the way full, he gestured to it, and told me to help myself before he walked away to work at a bench.
Reaching over to feel the water, it was warm, almost hot. Nothing seemed to be even remotely cool this deep in the planet, so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Taking a deep breath, I recognized the tang of salt. My nose had gotten used to the sulphuric fumes in this gods-forsaken workshop.
Eying Fjalar, he seemed occupied with whatever he was working on. Galar had left a while ago and hadn't yet returned.
I couldn't get my armour to recede with as little power as I had since I used every bit to charge the ring. After slipping off my boots and leather pants, I stepped into the tub still wearing my armour, shirt and underwear. Quickly, I sunk down into the water. A deep breath slowly escaped my lips as the energy of the water soaked into me.
My skin tingled. Gods, it was amazing. For the first time in so many days, my heavy exhaustion lifted. Without the overwhelming weight on my chest, I could breathe again. Even my heart felt like it pumped easier, my blood not syrup-like in my veins. Seeming to also enjoy the influx of energy, my son kicked and squirmed. He'd been still of late and his vigorous movements erased the fear that had gripped my heart in unrelenting, icy, talon-tipped clutches.
