A Queen Named Victory

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I dug my claws into his arm. It was like fighting a block of ice. I kicked him away from me.

"I guess the jig is up," I coughed.

"Where is my wife?!"

What has she done?

"She's safe."

Ivar wasted little time. Freezing ice magic blasted me into the air. "I'm glad that you noticed quickly," I complimented. "What tipped you off?" No response again. "I'm not sure how the two of you get along if you don't communicate. From one married person to the next, that will be one hell of a—" Ivar stopped me with more ice magic. I punched through his ice walls, shattering them into sharp shards.

"I'll kill you if you ever force yourself on my sister."

"I wouldn't dare," he snarled.

"So, you can speak." Brooding men did fascinate her. It was too dramatic for my taste. Ivar's ice sliced my arm, and I spun to avoid his frost spells. I took our fight to a low position as I slid across the icy ground. My momentum picked up the speed I needed to crack a bone. Ivar matched Grendel in height, but his body was thin and lean. One kick sent him tumbling through frosty bushes.

"Do not underestimate me," he warned.

"I'm not."

He returned to his feet in one swift motion. The guards around us fought off my Vanatyrs. Lupa sat at my side, ready to apprehend Ivar. I raised my hand.

"He is my prey."

His grip on the sleek ground gave him an upper hand in combat, especially when he had the power to make the forest his frozen arena. He swirled his cloak to deflect my knife and blinded me with the reflected light. It turns out that they had a purpose aside from being fashionable.

"Sigrid! Stop!"

Ingrid's cries disrupted both of us. We both glanced at each other before racing to reach her. His icy blast hit my foot with the force of an entire winter storm. My head throbbed from the impact. Twirling lights and flashing colors took over my vision. A blurry figure looked over me as I heard muffled voices. "Give me a spear," I growled. Lupa hauled me to my feet after she freed me from the spreading ice crystals.

I did not wait for her response. Ivar was closer to my sister. Not yet. I pushed my legs beyond their strength. Muscles ripped. Bones cried. Ivar's magic set my lungs on fire. Not yet.

"Spear!" I yelled with more force.

Ylva tossed it in the air mid-fight with another frost fairy.

Not yet.

"IVAR!" I thundered after my spear took flight.

Ingrid's secret lover fell to the forest floor.

"Will you vow on your life to protect her!? Answer me!"

I lifted his head by his ruffled collar. "My sister deserves the world, and I will not let her settle for less." Creamy blood from the cut on his cheek dripped onto my hands. Ivar still looked confused but he offered a shaky nod. "I will make her a dress dyed with your blood if I find out you hurt her," I swore. Then added, "Do not let me see your face on the other side of the battlefield." He nodded again, this time wide-eyed, at my relieved sigh. I released my grip when I noticed the blackened blood staining his satin attire. The tip of a long ice blade stuck out from my abdomen. Ingrid pushed me off her beloved fairy king with trembling hands.

"Sigrid!"

Lupa rushed to my side and dragged me away from my sister. She propped me up on her shoulders to keep the pressure from building in my abdomen. The ice fey gained my respect for crafting the ice swords. My bodily warmth slowly melted the blade's edge. It would leave me with a gaping hole without anything to block the draining blood.

Lupa did not find the circumstances as fascinating. Ingrid paled at the sight of our mother's twin. Ivar threw her over his back before she had a chance to get any closer to us. Her painful cries to our mother grew faint once Ivar disappeared onto his frozen landscape on the other side of the border forest. The rest of his weary guard followed.

I watched them well past Lupa's comfort. She pressed her hands against my wound as she murmured healing spells. It did not work. The Vanatyrs' greatest healers tried to stop the blade from melting to no avail. They watched me with horrified expressions as I pulled it out by its porcelain hilt, letting the blood soak into my trousers.

Ivar fought for her and won.

Disappointment, rage, and regret battled for dominance. It was my fault; All of it. Twelve Montverian guards' lives hung by a thread. Ingrid went to extreme measures to rid herself of me. Our usual bickering ended with tearful apologies at its worst. But I made my sister feel helpless to the point that she stabbed me. They felt like prisoners under my control. My actions were worse than father and Dinah combined. To them, I was a monster. They were right. I breathed in the icy mountain air. My hair whipped against my face, stinging my damp cheeks.

I howled.

I howled for the injured warriors who supported my selfishness, for my siblings who feared me, for the people in Montver who were dealt a shitty queen, and for the Vanatyr's who gained a weak leader.

"Sigrid!" Grendel called.

I cowered beneath my wild locks. I wanted to be anywhere but here; before hundreds of soldiers, warriors, and him. He will hate me. I already envisioned the twisted look of disgust upon his face at the sight of my patchy auburn fur. I kneeled to hide away from him despite the pain.

"Go away, Grendel!" I ordered, but it sounded more like begging to me.

Black splotches filled my view. A whirlwind of movement tormented me.

Lupa whispered in my ear, "It is time, child. You must let go before you lose your life."

"I can't."

"You have to."

Grendel sat beside me with his hand on my back. "Sigrid?" his voice pleaded for my forgiveness. The weight of his hand lifted as he realized the fresh blood that soaked the cloak. I spoke before he pressed for more information. "I did not want you to see me like this," I admitted from the safety of my hair and Lupa's torn fairy cloak.

"I will kill them all," His voice sent excited shivers down my back. "Who did it?" Grendel repeated with too much sincerity for someone who disobeyed his rules repeatedly.

I sighed, "I brought this on myself." As Lupa said many times during our brief time together, a hard head leads to a soft ass. There were no spells to reverse time and correct my mistakes. My decisions pitted my sister against me. I exhaled one last time before I lifted myself to my feet. Grendel watched me pull the hood back with furrowed brows.

"I asked who, not why," he said.

"Forget it. Why you are not disturbed by this?" I deflected as I motioned my clawed hands over my body.

"Why do you insist on making me repeat myself?" He rubbed his forehead to the scar on his face. Grendel made it impossible for me to read his reaction. His hair stayed snow white without his magic illusions, and his worried expression stayed the same. Was he upset? Angry? Maybe he wished he remained single. Only he knew the answer. I extended my hand for him to take.

"Ha. Even at a time like this, we argue. ," I said nervously.

Grendel took my hand and pulled me into his embrace. He the weight of doubt from my shoulders while murmuring loving words and apologies. "Whoa," he said as he steadied me. His eyes lingered on my other hand that rested over my wound.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," I said at once.

"That's not fine!"

"Shh," I shushed as more blood coated my palm. "I'm ready."

"You need a healer. The blood loss is getting to your head," he disagreed.

"Grendel," I said, holding his face with my other hand. I quelled him with my lips. It worked. He cocked his head mid-kiss when his tongue grazed my sharpened teeth.

"Trust me."