“Well, I’m not a fucking Viori, if that’s what you’re asking,” Thorne grunted. He scowled at me. “Excuse me if I heard you wrong—your wife?”
“I told you it was a long story,” I hissed, crossing my arms.
Thorne knocked Ciaran’s dagger away with a shove of his shoulder, then winked. “You’re lucky we’re in a mountain, Vangar. Might’ve caught a few flies by now with that mouth hanging open.”
“His name is Ciaran,” I said, inspecting my fingers as a faint tingling sensation pricked my right hand, out of nowhere. “Ciaran, this is Thorne Ursidor.”
“H-how?” Ciaran’s face flushed darker as he straightened, anger blazing in his demeanor. “How the hell did you sneak in here? The gates to Emberstone are warded to detect any spies.”
“Aye, but apparently the sewers aren’t.” Thorne turned toward me. “We need to speak. Now.”
I held his gaze for the barest moment. What could be so important that he’d risked crawling into Emberstone like this?
“No.” Ciaran stepped back, shaking his head faintly. “No. I can’t be party to this. How many of you are there?” He gave me a pleading look. “I have to report you. Both of you. Our laws?—”
“Your laws will cause Seren’s death, Ciaran.” I flicked a bored look at Thorne, masking my urgency. “My Viori wife. I saved her life from a vuk. The Viori would’ve executed me on sight, so she took an ancient oath that bonded us as spouses. Unfortunately, if one of us dies, so does the other.”
Ciaran’s eyes bulged as I spoke, as though realizing how much I trusted Thorne. That was dangerous information and Ciaran knew it.
“Solric’s balls.” Thorne let out a low whistle. “I knew you stunk of vuk.”
Rubbing his eyes, Ciaran grappled with the weight of what my trust had pulled him into. He wasn’t just Seren’s friend blindly following her schemes—he was a traitor in his own right. I tilted my head. “Not so easy to dispense with your swift, rigid justice, is it? Did you judge Seren too harshly, Ciaran?”
“You unredeemable son of a whore?—”
Thorne raised a fist, nostrils flaring. “Who in Solric’s name?—”
“It’s all right.” I didn’t think Thorne would give me away so easily, but I still needed to be careful. “Until me, Ciaran had probably never met anyone from outside the forest. Meeting two of us is probably overwhelming.”
“We’re not fucking unicorns,” Thorne grumbled, lowering his hand. Then he gave me another impatient look. “But we really need to talk.”
I gave Ciaran a hard stare. “What’ll it be, Ciaran? I throw us both at your mercy. Can my friend speak to me, or do you need to summon more of your kind? Maybe some guards? They can’t be far, this close to the keep.”
“You never were going to join the Viori, were you? You’re just a spy,” Ciaran said bitterly. Maybe, despite his better judgment, he’d hoped he was wrong about me.
His loyalty to Seren made all the difference here. Somehow, I knew he hadn’t been the one to tell the tribe about Giulia. His love for Seren was too deep.
I stepped closer, meeting his glare. “I didn’t choose this, Ciaran. You think I want to be here? I was dragged into this forest, bound to a woman I didn’t know, and thrown into your war. But yes, I need to go back. I have a kingdom to protect—a kingdom that will burn if I don’t warn them about what’s coming. Just like you would do anything for Seren, I’ll do whatever it takes for my people. That doesn’t make me a spy. It makes me a man with responsibilities—same as you.”
Ciaran’s shoulders squared. “And Seren?” he asked tersely. “What about her? What happens to her?”
“She’s trying to find a way to break the bond. She knows I’m not staying. If you don’t believe me, ask her.”
He flinched and his throat bobbed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, unable to meet my eyes. “You have five minutes. I’ll be around the corner, keeping watch. If something goes wrong or someone comes over to investigate, I wash my hands of you both.”
Then he looked at Thorne. “You can’t stay in Emberstone. You may have gotten past the wards but they’ll catch you eventually. Every Viori wears a rune on their wrist—the only exception to that is him”—he nodded toward me—“and he’s been given special permission from Lord Haldron.”
“How does one acquire this rune?” Thorne asked with a scowl.
“By being born Viori or claiming refuge here the first day of the Harvest Moon,” Ciaran said angrily. “Don’t even try forging it. It takes the incantation of a skilled priestess, and any attempt at a fake will be caught.”
“Suppose I don’t give a fuck about the rune? I doubt they go around checking that closely. And suppose you keep looking the other way?” Thorne growled to Ciaran.
“The first day of the Harvest Moon is tomorrow, Ciaran. Can’t he claim refuge here then, even by your rules?”
Ciaran shifted his weight back. “This is madness.” He jerked away and left us, desperate to flee.
“So, you’re married now, huh?” Thorne asked, coming up beside me. He stank, and now that I knew what he’d crawled through, it made sense.
