Fate Calls the Elf Queen (The Elf Queen, #3)

by J.M. Kearl

Every part of this beautiful being from his past beckoned to his soul. The waves of midnight hair he longed to grasp, the seductive curve of her waist to hips, and a face to bring even gods to their knees. Her very presence tempted and enchanted his senses, called upon memories long since buried. She smelled of jasmine and battlefields and… ruin. How he hated her.

Hel leaned back against the wall wondering what she might smell like. He didn’t care what enemy she’d want to use the dagger on. He’d let her have it and help her use it if that’s what she desired. He wanted to know what her lips tasted like. “She’s the ultimate conquest.”

A light touch on his lower back and his hand flashed out, but too late. Wearing a mischievous grin, Valeen, oh yes, he knew her name, stood with the golden dagger in her hand. The true Soulender, he’d hidden it in his waist. Clever.

She pulled her stare away from his first and then scanned his neck, his wrists, any exposed skin. “Rune marks on your skin. Dark hair. Eyes blue-green like oceans.” She stepped back and trailed her gaze down his form inspecting him. “Hel, I presume.”

Wake up. Wake up. You’re in danger. Layala’s eyes fluttered. Get up now, Valeen. Get up, the deep voice urged.

Thane looked at Layala and raised his eyebrows. “Will you get your lady’s maid under control before I toss her out a window?” He glared down at her. “From the top floor.” Tif gasped and slapped her stubby little hand against her chest. “How could you use my worst fear against me? I knew there was something rotten about you.”

She was radiant in a deep purple dress with stars and moons on the bodice, and a smile that wouldn’t fade. They held hands, cut their skin, bound their union by blood. He’d promised her eternity, and she him. It wasn’t coercion or forced or even arranged. There was no denying they loved each other. Hel never took his eyes off her. She kissed him hard on the mouth, pulled him in like she couldn’t get close enough.

“You’re my brother. I’ll always come when you ask. But you promised fun, War, and I’m craving a good fight.” “If the battle gets close, we’ll have to defend ourselves, and it will get close.” “You know she’s mine, right?” Hel smirked at the change in subject. “I’m going to have her, so don’t get in my way.” “If you truly care for her, I won’t.”

“I know what you’re implying and it’s pathetic that you still call me wife, when it’s certainly not you in my bed.”