Steffen frowned. “You’re no fun. You need to fuck Solveig so you can lighten up. I know it worked for me.”
Westley lunged, slamming his fist into Steffen’s face with a loud crack. Blood spilled from the wound, a bruise immediately beginning to bloom.
“I told you to cool it,” North ordered. She muttered something that sounded like “younglings” under her breath.
Westley let Vali peel him off his brother, getting in one more blow to the ribs before taking a step back. “Is there anything else you want to share?” Westley spat. Steffen must have a death wish, because his bloody smile took on a teasing glint.
Thankfully for everyone involved, Vali interrupted Steffen before he could say something stupid, like sharing about his night with Solveig.
“Yes, we want you to know that our mother is likely not happy with us. She was not aware of our plan, though she cannot argue with the cancellation of the wedding,” Vali said with a sigh.
“You think Eir had no idea?” North asked with her brows up, her mouth breaking into a smile.
“Of course not. You look surprised—why?”
“She should probably tell you herself, but this is too fun. Eir and the queens are quite close. It was she who slipped the snake into Solveig’s towel. She knew the two of you would never beat Solveig on your own and all of this”—she gestured around the room—“had to go according to plan.”
Three pairs of male eyes blinked back at her with varying degrees of anger. When she noticed Westley’s stunned face, she must have realized he hadn’t known.
He whirled out of the room, producing twin waves to soak the Elven brothers in his wake.
Westleystormedthroughthepalace, intent on finding Solveig as quickly as possible. The connection between them led him straight to his rooms.
He didn’t pause to wonder why she was in there, crashing through the doors in a rage before coming to an abrupt halt. She stood by the window in a silk robe, her damp hair hanging down her back.
Her scent hit him like a bolt of lightning, storm and rain clouding his senses—the smell of his own soap coating her skin made him growl with male satisfaction.
She was his.
She didn’t look surprised to see him, just raised one full brow. Her magic was still clearly drained because she looked spent.
All he could do was stare, his hands hovering on the door handles. Anger, love, and need swirled in his veins.
He let go of the doors, letting them fall shut with a loud click.
“What the fuck, Solveig?” he snarled.
She uncrossed her arms from her chest, causing the robe to slip open and reveal more of her tempting skin. His gaze flicked down at themovement, and that small sliver of skin had his cock thickening in his pants.
“Why the Hel are you angry withme?” she asked through gritted teeth, her defences up.
“You got bitten by a snake?” he ground out.
Solveig huffed, waving a hand. “It was barely anything.”
“Barely anything,” Westley repeated under his breath. “You didn’t think it was important enough to mention?” he asked, returning the glare in her copper eyes.
Solveig stood straighter and answered with her own scowl. “It wasn’t fatal, just a paralytic venom,” she said like that would comfort him.
It didn’t.
“Just a paralytic venom.” Visions of murdering the Elven queen swam in his head.
“Are you going to repeat everything I say?”
“Maybe if you were making sense, I wouldn’t have to.”
“It would make sense if you stopped being a raging asshole for five seconds,” she scolded. Her hand twitched at her side as she took a step towards him, though she was unarmed.
