Vindicated by Bella Klaus

Chapter Five

Terror tightened my skin, and I curled my hands into fists. I glanced around the cave, looking for the first sight of six-foot-tall fangs, but it remained dark. My throat spasmed, and I rubbed at the base of my neck, trying to soothe my nerves. This was just a dream, right? If Marchosias had wanted to hurt me, he wouldn’t have summoned me here—I would already be dead.

My pulse pounded hard enough to drown out the roar of blood between my ears. I was naked and without a weapon—not that anything I could wield would hurt a being of primordial evil.

Several thoughts assaulted me at once. The first was about the reaper who had come for me the first time I died. He had told me my soul was hell-bound, but he hadn’t mentioned any particular wrongdoings that had gotten me condemned.

What if I could never go to Heaven because my soul was attached to a demon? My wolf was his pup.

“Lydia.” A deep voice resonated through my skin, piercing me to the marrow.

I whirled around, looking for a smile the size of Nivalis Row, but the cave was empty, save for the gigantic fire.

“Over here,” he said.

Turning back, I found a dark figure stepping out of the flames. His body was entirely made of shadow, even down to his eyes, which appeared to be gemstones that reflected the light.

I stepped back, trying to put as much distance as I could between me and the shadow man, but he stalked toward me with his arms outstretched.

“Stay away.” I raised a palm.

“Don’t you have a hug for your father?”

My jaw dropped. “Marchosias?”

He placed his hands on his hips. “I am part of him.”

Pausing, I waited for him to say something else, but he stood in front of me, with his body positioned in the same way as mine. He wrapped his arms around his middle. I let mine flop to the side to see what he would do next. He mirrored my body language.

“You are a difficult young woman to reach,” he said, his voice laden with accusation.

My lips tightened. If he thought this was where I told him about the dream suppressants, he’d be waiting all night. I folded my arms across my chest, reminding myself that he wouldn’t harm the woman he needed to birth his vessel.

He also folded his arms. “Answer your father when he asks you a question.”

I flinched. “But you didn’t—”

“Don’t play coy with me,” he snapped. “The question was implied when I said I’d had trouble reaching you.”

“I’ve been busy.”

The shadow thickened and grew a foot taller, making the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I exhaled a shuddering breath. Was this when he finally struck out at me for my insolence?

Common sense dictated that I should lower my head, cower, say anything I needed for him to release me from this dream, but without meaning to, I raised my chin and met his jeweled eyes.

I needed to reach Fenrir, Mum, or anyone else who could stop this bastard from summoning me to Hell through my dreams. Shit. I would even take advice from Beowulf.

“Why have you brought me here?” I asked.

“Because you’ve been avoiding me,” he hissed.

I took another step backward, my heels hitting the stone wall. “Fenrir?” I said into our bond. “If you can hear this, wake me up.”

Marchosias stood three feet away from me, his large body blocking the light and heat of the fire. “We were about to make a bargain, yet you failed to show up for our appointment.”

“It’s not like I have any control over what I do when I fall asleep,” I said, spreading my arms wide in an exaggerated shrug.

“Do you know the constitution of your soul?” His voice was a sneer.

“I’m half-human and half…” I would have said wolf, but the last time we spoke, he’d explained dual souls and said he had resurrected me without my original wolf. “The other half of my soul is your power.”

“Actually, it’s a little pinch of me.” He held up two fingers.

“But you told Mum her new baby would have your magic.”

“There is no difference between my power and my soul.”

I slumped against the wall and clutched my head, trying to make sense of his words. “Are you saying my wolf is a mini-Marchosias?”

He chuckled. “What a quaint use of words.”

“But she’s a female.”

“I didn’t tell you I wasn’t.” He pressed a hand on his chest. “Beings such as I have no gender. We just exist, and what you see standing in front of you is a pinch of Marchosias looking for an opportunity to enter the living world.”

My breaths turned shallow, and I stared at the figure for what felt like several minutes before asking, “Why would you leave so much of yourself behind?”

“Unfortunately, I am one of the beings that holds together the integrity of Hell,” he said with a sigh. “First of all, no vessel could contain all of me, and secondly, only a small part of my being is needed for the rest of me to enjoy life on the outside.”

My stomach ached. Not from hunger or heat or any natural phenomena, but from the knowledge that he’d been playing me from the moment he stepped out of the fire.

First, Marchosias had appeared as a smaller being instead of the colossal monster with teeth the size of a street. The purpose of that was to be less intimidating, so I might listen to him instead of being scared.

Secondly, if my wolf was any part of Marchosias, he would never have called me pup.

Thirdly, he’d implied that the being standing before me was equivalent to my wolf and therefore posed no threat by being brought into the world.

“If your soul is already inside me, why do you need a vessel?” I asked.

His coughing laugh made my eyes narrow. If that bullshit he had just shared were true, then he could already experience the living world through us. All he’d done was prove himself a liar.

“Why all the questions?” There was a spark to his voice that burned hotter than the fire flickering in the cavern, and it threatened to ignite the moment I failed to play along.

Spreading my arms wide, I smoothed out my voice and tried to sound more curious than suspicious. “Can’t you just be born naturally like other souls?”

“Since I’m not a soul, I can’t take part in the process of reincarnation,” he replied.

“Is that why you sent Grog to attack me?” I asked.

“Somebody caused you harm?” he said with feigned shock. The wretched creature even had the nerve to take a step back and place a hand on his chest.

I clenched my teeth. Did he really think this act would work? “He told me you and he had struck a bargain. He even said you brought him back to life when I went into heat.”

Marchosias rubbed his chin. Even with his features obscured by the shadows, I could tell he was pretending to consider my words. “I recall a shaman who mentioned you were acquainted,” he said, his words hesitant. “But I certainly didn’t send him to attack you.”

“What do you want from me?” I stepped to the side and tried to walk around him.

He slid into my path, his shadows expanding. “You’re going nowhere,” he snarled.

I clenched my jaw. Now, he was starting to show most of his true self.

“Grog was a mistake.” Marchosias inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I should never have sent a desperate oaf after you, especially one who had no chance of competing with a wolf god.”

“Is that an apology?” I asked.

He waved a hand. “Sure.”

My lips thinned, and I ground my teeth together to bite back an insult. “If I accept it, will you let me leave?”

“Only if you and I can come to an accord,” he drawled.

I glanced over his shoulder at the eight-foot-tall flames, wondering if that was the route out of this nightmare or just a stove as he’d said the first time he summoned me here. Anxiety rippled through my insides at the prospect of being held captive until I made an unfair bargain.

Bowing my head to block out the vision of the demon, I ran through options. One, I could jump into the fire and risk incinerating my soul. Two, I could wait until he got bored and ejected me from this dream. Neither option sounded great, but there was a third. Eventually, Fenrir would wake and realize something had gone wrong. If he couldn’t use the alpha bond, he would take me to someone who would help.

“How about it?” he asked.

“You still haven’t told me what you want.” I raised my head to stare him full in the face.

“I will give you anything you desire—fame, riches, and a long life that isn’t dependent on Fenrir’s magic.” He waggled his finger. “Note that I said ‘and,’ not ‘or.’ Anything you desire can and will be yours. All you need to do is agree to bring forth a child with my power.”

My eyes narrowed. “But that’s the same deal you offered Mother.”

He steepled his fingers. “And the result was you.”

“I thought you wanted me to give birth to a vessel.”

“Speaking with you has changed my mind.” He spread his hand wide.

It took every effort not to roll my eyes. Did he really think I’d be gullible enough to agree to anything so transparent? He was desperate, and clearly needed my consent for this bargain. And he probably guessed I had told Fenrir everything about our last conversation.

“Your answer?” he said.

I rubbed my chin. “Let me discuss it with Fenrir.”

“No,” he growled.

“Why not?” I tried not to flinch.

“Because I only need your consent to create this magical infant.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Then why did you send Grog? Or Beowulf?”

Marchosias exhaled a long sigh. “Until you flew through Hell and into my path, I had no way of reaching you. No matter how many times I pressed Beowulf, he continued to assure me that you had never met him.”

“Oh.”

He nodded. “So, when a shaman informed me that he had found my daughter, I gave him the power to win your heart.”

“And where is Grog now?” I asked.

“He will bother you no longer.” Marchosias shook his head.

“He attacked my mate and tried to force me to mate with him.”

Marchosias placed a hand on his chest and gasped. “Then he will be punished.”

My eyes narrowed. “For carrying out your orders?”

“I told him to approach you, but never by force.” He raised his palms as though in surrender. “The enchantment would not have worked without your consent.”

I placed a hand over my mouth. For a primordial source of evil, he sure had a short attention span. The more he switched from one lie to the other, the more I approached something close to the truth. Turning my gaze to the ceiling, I tuned out the rest of his words because he had practically confirmed everything I needed to know.

If Marchosias could punish Grog, then he was still out there, alive and ready to do his bidding. Right now, all I cared about was escaping his clutches and finding a way to stop him from ever approaching me in my sleep.

“Lydia,” he hissed.

My gaze snapped back to him. “If you keep me here against my will, I’ll never agree to anything.”

He stepped back. “There is no need for ultimatums.”

“Are you going to release me from this place or not?”

“Grog still lives,” Marchosias said, his voice simmering with repressed rage. “And he has left a dozen runestones all over your home.”

My stomach tightened, and I pressed my spine against the wall. It looked like I’d have to rely on option three and hope Fenrir awoke soon.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“Just wondering what you’re talking about.” I needed to get out of here and find the stones.

Silence stretched out between us, broken only by the crack and pop of the huge fire. Marchosias radiated no body heat, but the cave suddenly became too hot, too stifling, the air too thick. The implied threat hung in the air like an executioner’s blade, but where would it strike?

If he threatened Mum’s life… I shook off that thought. It was better not to give him any ideas.

“Queen Hel tried to attack your village recently, but she found your wards impenetrable,” he said. “One carefully placed word from me, and she will send her demons through the runestones.”

I swallowed hard. “You’re threatening me now?”

He sniffed. “Reasoning with you didn’t work, so I’ve moved on to spelling out the consequences of refusing my offer.”

“And what do you think the queen will say when she discovers your plan to leave Hell?”

He stilled.

My skin rippled with anxiety. Threatening gigantic demons wasn’t a wise move, even if they’d broken off a piece of themselves to appear relatable.

“Queen Hel is a very dangerous being,” he said, trying to sound light. “Notoriously two-faced and guaranteed to betray you.”

“All right.” I nodded, pretending to agree. Right now, I would say anything to be free of this demon, as long as I could leave without being tricked into a bargain.

“If Hel captures Fenrir, she will strip him of his power, and that will include the magic keeping you alive.”

My heart clenched. “Then I would die?”

“And then you would be cast into Hell, where I will torment you for an eternity.”

I bowed my head to hide a smile. Supernatural souls went to the Fifth Faction, which was ruled by King Hades. Marchosias dwelled in the Sixth.

He leaned forward, closing the distance between us, and snarled, “What do you say?”

I side-stepped away from him, desperate not to let any of his shadow brush against my bare skin. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Yes?” He elongated the last syllable.

“But I’m not the sort who makes decisions under pressure.”

“What?”

I raised a palm. “Give me one night to sleep on it, and I will return with an answer.”

“Or will you remain awake as you did before?”

It took a moment for me to realize he didn’t know about dream suppressants. Smoothing out my features into a mask of calm, I raised both shoulders into a shrug. “A woman can’t help it if she’s kept awake by a vicious heat.”

Marchosias chuckled. “I look forward to having you as a surrogate.”

A shudder ran down my spine. Fenrir had already told me what happened to women who carried infants with powerful souls—their magic got consumed during gestation. The wretched demon just said he was looking forward to causing my death.

“May I please leave?” I said from between clenched teeth.

My surroundings changed from the fire-lit cave to a void of black, and I jolted myself out of sleep.

I lay on my side within the dark bedroom, with Fenrir spooned around my back. Sweat covered every inch of my skin, but it was a cold and clammy sensation rather than from the heat. Breathing hard, I placed a trembling hand over my chest and winced at the clatter of my heart.

“Fenrir?”I said into the bond.

He jerked awake. “Sex?”

“No.” I turned around in the cradle of his arms and placed both hands on his broad chest. “Marchosias appeared in my dream.”

His eyes snapped open, illuminating the room with the force of his rage. “Again?”

I nodded. “Mum’s dream suppressant must have stopped working.”

“Shit.” His eyes flashed with panic, and he cupped my cheeks. “Did he hurt you? Are you all right?”

“He was mostly tiresome. But he told me Grog planted twelve runestones around the house. Do you know a way of detecting them?”

He frowned. “I’m surprised they haven’t already been detected, but now that we know what to look for, your mother will find them. Failing that, a wardmaster. What else did he say?”

“If I don’t agree to his demands, he’s going to tell Queen Hel about the back-door entrances through the wards.”

“A bluff,” he growled. “But we’ll find those stones and place them somewhere they’ll regret.”

“What do runestones do?”

“With enough magic, anything,” Fenrir growled. “Norse shamans etch symbols on them to represent their intentions.”

I gulped. What if the symbol could mean something sinister like murder? “What kind of intentions?”

He rolled onto his back and pulled me to his chest. “A horde of Vikings wanting to infiltrate a magically protected stronghold could force an animal to swallow a doorway stone and trick someone into taking it inside.”

“And when the stone passes the ward’s threshold, the Vikings could enter?”

“Once they performed the correct ritual,” he said with a nod.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “We have to tell someone.”

Fenrir reached for the bedside table, picked up the phone, and passed on a message to one of the twins.

I wrapped my arms around his middle and sighed. “Sorry.”

He stared down at me and frowned. “What for?”

“There’s so much we need to do around the village, but we’re stuck here, having sex.”

He snorted. “I’m not complaining.”

“But who’s going to illuminate the village if those demons cause another blackout?”

Fenrir patted my shoulder. “The torches you ignited during the battle are still flaming, and while you were sleeping, the Fire Queen donated some of her torches.”

“That was nice of her,” I said.

He nodded. “She seems to be the only decent one on that Council.”

I rested my head on his chest and blew out a breath. Mera was the only one I really knew, and she had grown up as a Neutral like Phina until she developed fire magic. Until recently, the Council executed supernaturals with fire, and she would have gotten caught up in that mess. It wasn’t surprising that Mera was so humble.

Fenrir placed a kiss on my temple and cupped my breast in one of his large hands. “You must be at the end of your heat.”

I drew back and frowned. “I’m more worried about primordial evils, mad shamans, and invading demons.”

“Two days ago, the heat would have forced you to brush those concerns aside.”

“You’re right.” I rolled on top of him and pressed a kiss onto his lips. “Maybe it’s over?”

He grabbed my hips, digging his fingers into my flesh and positioning my clit over his erection.

Desire rippled through my core, but it wasn’t the desperate heat that had plagued me the last few days. “I think you’re right.”

His eyes twinkled, and he gave my ass a gentle squeeze. “Let’s make sure.”