Page 80 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
Eris sighed theatrically. ‘Fine. If you refuse to entertain me, I suppose I shall find diversion elsewhere.’
‘Where exactly?’ Hagan asked, not bothering to look up.
‘I think I’ll pay my mother a visit.’
‘Your mother?’
‘Yes, well.’ Eris rose to her feet, rolling her shoulders. ‘Technically the bitch who married my father. She’ll suffice, seeing as my real mother is skulking about somewhere.’ She stepped closer to Ylva, her presence sharp and suffocating.
Ylva did not move.
‘Do you know where she is?’ Hagan asked. He was no longer pretending interest in the scrolls; his full attention had shifted to Eris as the goddess drifted closer to Ylva.
Ylva met his gaze briefly. She would not ask him for help—never that—but the truth remained: she did not want this goddess anywhere near her. She forced herself to breathe slowly through her nose, steady and measured, willing Eris to lose interest and move on.
‘I have a faint idea of where she might be hiding,’ Eris purred, her voice soft as rot, now only inches from Ylva.
Ylva kept her eyes fixed on Hagan, refusing to acknowledge the presence circling her like a predator. Yet she caught something unexpected in his purple stare.
Worry.
As though even he feared what Eris might decide to do.
‘Eris,’ Hagan warned the moment the goddess lifted her hand and caught a strand of Ylva’s white hair between her long fingers.
‘Yes?’ Eris replied, her smile stretching into something sharp and delighted as she turned, still holding the strand captive.
‘Leave her,’ he said, his voice low, his stare hardening into iron. ‘She is not a toy.’
Eris scoffed, releasing the hair at last. She leaned in just long enough to blow a breath of air into Ylva’s face, then skipped away with infuriating lightness. ‘As you wish. I’m going.’
The moment the doors closed behind her, Ylva exhaled a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.
And she froze when she noticed Hagan doing the same.
As if, beneath all his cruelty and control, even he was not entirely untouched by fear of the goddess who had just left the room.
‘Come here,’ Hagan said abruptly.
When Ylva did not obey, he exhaled a short, irritated breath, realising belatedly what he himself had done. With a flick of his will, he loosened the blood magic binding her legs. Only her legs. Everything from the waist up remained locked in place. The sensation was deeply unsettling, her body divided against itself.
‘Sit,’ he ordered, nudging an empty chair forward with thetip of his boot.
‘Why?’ Ylva asked, suspicion sharpening her tone.
‘Just do as you are told.’
She lowered herself into the chair but edged away instinctively, every fibre of her body recoiling from his nearness. Hagan noticed. His hand shot out, gripping the edge of the chair, and he dragged her closer until their legs pressed together.
‘Don’t you dare,’ he warned, catching the flash in her eyes as she leaned forward, teeth bared in instinct. Her arms might have been useless, but her mouth was still very much her own.
‘I wasn’t going to do anything,’ she said, voice flat.
Hagan scoffed. ‘I thought valkyrians couldn’t lie.’
‘That’s the Fae,’ Ylva shot back.
He ignored her retort and unrolled a scroll, placing it directly in front of her. ‘Read,’ he said. ‘If you find anything worth mentioning, tell me.’
