Seren
“Is the temple dedicated to Solric?” Rykr asked as we climbed the pillared steps to the enormous structure.
“Among others.” I scanned the dark interior. The hour was getting late. Rykr had insisted that we get something to eat and drink before coming here, and much as I’d grumbled, the meal had made me feel slightly better.
Until I remembered that I’d almost killed us both by losing control.
Gloom gnawed at me, an ache that refused to let go. Every step toward the gleaming black marble arches of the temple felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the memory of what had happened.
Rykr didn’t blame me—at least, not openly—but I couldn’t shake the guilt. What if next time, I couldn’t pull back? What if next time, I destroyed everything?
A statue of Bryndis loomed at the top of the stairs, arms outstretched, the feathered wings of her cloak unfurled behind her. Nude, powerful, mocking. Goddess of love—but also death. Magic. One of the few deities to survive the destruction of the Old World at Vornfall.
The statue’s empty eyes pierced through me. I’d taken her oath, only to learn that it was more of a curse than a gift. Maybe that was the point. Maybe love was a curse and humans were too feeble-minded to comprehend that truth.
Love wasn’t just pleasure and desire—it was loss. And the loss of it was the most painful wound of all.
Rykr’s hand settled at the small of my back. “Do you really think we’ll find answers here?” His analytical gaze searched the temple’s vaulted shadows, where torches threw light into the spaces enchanted sunlight couldn’t reach. Incense cloyed thickly, curling like unseen fingers, masking the movement of the many robed figures beyond.
“We’ll be fine. There are laws about spilling blood in the temple.” I sounded more confident than I felt. “And yes, the priests and priestesses could help. They know more about the old gods and Old World than most.”
“Laws against spilling blood have never stopped anyone with malicious intentions,” Rykr said flatly. His hand at my back sent a ripple of warmth through me, steadying, but unnatural in its intensity. The bond. Always there, amplifying every touch, every glance.
It was maddening how easily his presence steadied me, even when I wanted to be furious with him. Even when I wasn’t sure if the feelings were mine, or the bond’s. Was it me who wanted him near, or the magic threading us together?
I shivered and pushed forward. The longer we stayed here, the more the air around us felt threatening, the crowds too thick, the feeling we were being watched overwhelming.
A swish of robes up ahead caught my attention. A priest?
The cloaked figure turned, the silhouette of her profile visible in the candlelight. A young and beautiful woman. She smiled at us, beckoning us forward.
The woman slipped behind a gauzy curtain, the fabric billowing in a breeze from an unknown source. Her hand extended from beyond it, one slender finger motioning us to follow her.
I exchanged a look with Rykr. His posture was rigid, alert.
“If they want answers about their bond, they must come beyond the curtain,” a soft, melodic voice murmured.
Reluctantly, I pressed forward with Rykr close behind. “Are you sure we should …”
I tightened my grip on Rykr’s hand, stepping forward before he could object. “We came for answers,” I said, my voice firm, though my stomach churned with unease. “We’re not leaving without them.”
The cloaked woman turned toward us, her face half shrouded in candlelight, a sly smile playing at her lips. “Brave words. But bravery and recklessness are often the same.”
The area she’d entered was curtained on all sides, with pillows on the ground. Candles burned brightly on the floor and candelabras of various heights surrounded us. She came closer, then took my hand, leading me toward the pillows. “Be seated.”
Rykr lowered himself beside me.
Slowly, the woman unclasped her cloak. It slid from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. Beneath it, she wore a nearly transparent dress that hugged her curves. Gold leaf barely covered her nipples, and the only other thing she wore was a delicate chain at her waist, dipping between her legs.
She was intoxicatingly beautiful, with thick golden hair that flowed down her back, unplaited, a circlet of gold around her forehead.
She wasn’t a priestess.
She’s a Seidr.
Known for their powers of seduction, they used trances and spells to travel into the spirit world and gain knowledge.
My mouth went dry, my gaze shooting to Rykr. Heat flared in my chest as I caught him watching her. She moved like a living flame, her every step a hypnotic sway, her amber eyes locked on Rykr with a predatory gleam.
