I had no time to object or second-guess what he said. I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me along,
"Don't be sick on the dragon king's carpet!"
Then we were right back into that raging, dark hurricane place again. It only took seconds this time before my feet touched the ground. It was a hard landing, and I fell straight to my knee whit a pained grunt. Holding myself up with my palms flat on the stone floors, I just waited. My body swayed this way and that, and my stomach twisted together franticly, but I kept it down.
Strong hands lifted me to my feet and held my shoulders to steady me. But he stepped back before I could lift my gaze to see who it was close up. Not just one step, but two and then a third step.
"Loki! Where are your manners?"
A deep voice rumbled, and even at this distance, I had to look up to see his face. Black pants, a loose white shirt in some thick little stiff fabric without buttons, and a V-shaped neck. A short, stiff collar was folded so it flattened towards his shoulders. He was unusually well dressed for a man in this world, but it was his eyes that caught my attention.
Bright emerald green eyes.
With his black hair, short black beard, and dark lashes and brows, the green in his eyes made an incredible contrast. But he looked right past me, and I felt like he intentionally avoided my gaze. His throat bobbed, and he rolled his shoulders. Snapping me out of my obvious glaring. My eyes darted to the side, taking in this new place instead. But the only thing I could think of as my eyes traveled over the dark marble floors, a massive chandelier with burning candles and two windows opening an entire wall, was him-his intense green eyes.
I'm not stupid, I almost drooled on his marble floors, but I knew who he was. The dragon king is the last man on earth I should drool on or pine for. I groaned to myself; why do bad guys always look like specimens specially made by the gods? I prefer Disney over this world, where villains have huge scars, beer bellies, or rotted teeth.
"Is this the female?"
"No, this is my stable boy. Of course, it is the female!"
My heart rate increased as the drawled voice behind me answered. Loki didn't seem to have respect for anyone, not even a king. I held my breath waiting for the king to answer, but the silence lasted just enough to make the situation uncomfortable. He swallowed hard, and I cussed myself, imagining his throat bobbing again.
"Verry, well, follow me."
Both my brows lifted in surprise; that's it? Turning on his heels, he walked down the grand hall, and the sound of his shoes against the hard surface echoed through the room. Stumbling forward, I turned to Loki and glared at him, but he didn't even bother looking at me. He just gave me yet another push forward before gesturing for me to follow while striding right past me.
Like the obedient dog I was, I trailed after. This place could have a medieval castle; Deep red, heavy curtains were neatly collected with a golden chain on each side of the windows. Too fascinated by the fact that these windows went all the way from the ground to the ceiling, making them at least 5-6 meters tall, I overlooked the view.
A door screeched somewhere in the room when I stopped and stared.
There was not a village in sight, no forest, no ocean, or anything as I had expected from a grand view like this-only white clouds. Like a thick, foggy cover, it stretched to the horizon. Some mountain peaks broke through the soft scenery; the sky was clear blue, and the sun shone brightly. So close, I am surprised I didn't notice how it looked like the sunbeams stretched through the glass and inside the room before I stopped here.
Where are we? Or, how high up are we? The only time I could recall seeing anything with a resemblance to this was that one and only time I flew. The plane broke through the clouds and leveled above them. Leaving behind only the clear blue sky and bright sun. Amazed with this fantasy like castle, I forgot where I was and who I was there with-just soaked in the clean and bright view. Making me wonder if this is what it feels like to enter heaven. I mean, Loki exists, werewolves, fay, magic, and all that. So why not heaven and hell, God and the devil?
I stopped myself; how would that work?
Could the devil and Hel be one and the same? Then what about God? I doubt Loki, Thor, or even Odin could ever come near how the God Christians painted and envisioned.
"Mutt!"
I almost jumped when Loki's irritated voice rang out in the hall behind me, torn away from my magical view and moment of bliss. Hesitant and with a deep sight, I turned around to the dark and grim reality. The sound of Loki's shoe tapping the floor impatiently irked every nerve in my body and strung my irritation to its limit. So I could not help myself; glaring back, I made sure to pass him so close I bumped him with my shoulder.
The reaction was instant when his hand grabbed my shoulder, and I growled right in his face when he yanked me back. But the bastard stared back, squinting his eyes as dark shadows seemed to stretch toward them.
"Pup and toddler god! Manners and control, please!"
The low tone of the dragon king's growling voice made even Loki falter, and both of us broke eye contact. With incredible intensity, we studied the intricate pattern on the marble floor with burning cheeks of shame. The way he dragged out the last word, please, letting traces of a foreign dialect shine through. I hadn't noticed his demand for obedience before now, how his words craved respect. It felt nowhere like the alpha command Birger and Toke had tried on me. Their command was a roar, soaked in anger and need for dominance. This voice was so calm, deep, and low, but the effect was even more remarkable. Heavy and leaving no doubt, but there was no rage, no desperate need beneath it fueling the demand.
His hand felt massive against my upper chest as he pushed us apart like two bickering teenagers. A snobby scoff brushed harshly through the air, making the tiny hairs around my face sway. Loki had broken out of his moment of stunned haze and adjusted the collar of his shirt before walking past me.
"Fine, I'm tired of this place already, so let us speed this up. Where is your research house, or whatever you called it?"
I halted in my tracks, and I realized I should have remembered that part; now, I was willingly trailing along straight into the dragon's lair. Quite literally, actually. I've let myself be fooled by his appearance and distracted by the stunning view. But when reality hit, I was only here because this unfairly good looking monster wanted my blood-probably made a deal with Loki, like they all seem to do, with no regard past their own need.
"For the hundredth time, it is called a research lab!"
The dragon's gruff voice sounded irritated behind me, but yet his had felt gently toward my lower back as he applied pressure forcing my feet to move forward. My shoulders were hunched forward, and my head was hanging as I walked up the massive double doors down the hall. A lamb led to slaughter, I thought; the gentle touch meant, of course, nothing. Only the need for me to walk myself to my cell, to get this all over with and not to ruin his new research object.
Faith had to be the reason I grew up on Earth and not here. I would have died long ago, taking my unhealthy attraction to mean guys. I mean, I met a freaking dragon! A dragon and a king. But all I see is his eyes after I let my eyes trail up his body without shame. Maybe they were right back home; I am a little whore.
I busted out and snort, laughing for myself, just as Loki pushed both doors open right in front of me, and I froze, looking into the massive white room. My feet felt stiff, not willing even to try to stumble forward. The pressure on my lower back increased, and his massive figure towered over me, but I could not take my eyes from the centerpiece in the middle room.
Loke snickered as my feet started working on their own, quickly backing away, sliding right under the king's arm to make a run for it. Instead, I spin around, and my feet leave the ground still moving. Kicking and pushing, squirming and twisting. But I fell heavily over his shoulder, and his arm locked around my waist, carrying me right into the white room. Right up to the massive wooden chair with black leather straps around the feet, back piece, armrests, and seat.