My fingers curled into fists at my sides. I knew it was the bond amplifying my emotions, twisting my thoughts—but that didn’t stop the sting. What did I expect? That he wouldn’t notice her beauty? That he’d only ever look at me?
I forced my voice to steady. “If you’re done gawking, maybe we can get to the part where she actually helps us.”
The Seidr’s amber eyes traveled to me. “She called upon Bryndis and yet the bond remains unconsummated. Unstable. Reckless.”
She came closer, running her fingertips along my cheek. With a hint of a smile on her lips, she moved from me to Rykr, then gazed into his eyes. She knelt before him, those long slender fingers now tracing his jawline, his lips. “His blood is precious.” She leaned forward, then kissed his mouth.
I shot up to my feet, the gauzy curtains swaying in response. “We shouldn’t have come.”
Rykr lifted a hand to her and gently pushed her back. Firmly. Each second his hand remained on her, though, my blood boiled.
With a slow smile spreading across her lips, the Seidr stood away from Rykr. Her hands dragged over her body, slowly, seductively, her hips swaying to some unknown music we couldn’t hear. “They don’t really want to break the bond. And why would they? It’s delicious.”
This woman was completely insane.
“Actually, I do. We both do. I need to know how to keep him out of my head.”
She gave me a sharp look. “And yet she’s desperate for him to be inside her. Her desire for him grows daily.”
I swallowed hard, unable to look at Rykr as heat crept into my face. “We’re leaving.”
It didn’t help that Rykr hadn’t moved or said anything since we’d sat. Damned men. Always so easily distracted by the female form.
She turned in a slow circle. “Soul and mind connected. Now they need body. The bridge must be complete.”
I shook Rykr’s shoulder. “Rykr. Let’s go.”
His eyes shifted to mine, then beyond the curtain, narrowing slightly. “Can the bond be broken?” he asked the Seidr.
“That is beyond the power of this realm. Only divine power can extinguish a divine oath.” The Seidr stopped, then her brow furrowed, deep with sorrow. Her eyes, once bright, grew dimmer, bluer, like a blind woman’s.
“She will diminish. She’s lost a piece of her soul and he is no ordinary mortal. A beast lives inside him, forged in the blood of the oath.”
What was she saying?
Her breasts sagged before my gaze, her flat belly growing loose, the skin hanging. The golden hair turned white, and every inch of her face became lined with wrinkles.
I gasped and Rykr stood straight, his hand drawing me back toward him, curling me into his arm. “Diminish? You mean her powers won’t work?”
“She cannot survive the bond.”
My breath hitched. The words echoed in my mind, louder than the crackling of the candle flames or the muffled sounds of footsteps outside the curtain.
The Seidr’s amber eyes glowed, her voice low and mournful. “It is unbalanced. He is too powerful, and her soul is incomplete.”
Rykr shifted beside me, his hand tightening on my arm. “What does that mean?” he demanded, his tone sharp, almost angry.
“As the bond grows,” the Seidr continued, her eyes growing distant, “her spirit will diminish. She will fade.”
What in the name of the gods?
She cannot survive? It sounded as though she was saying … the oath would kill me?
I gripped the edge of a pillow to steady myself. “When?” The word came out as a whisper. “How long do I have? Will we survive the Skorn?”
The woman’s voice grew weaker, older, her shoulders rounding with age. “The bond will be complete, and with it, his power will awaken fully. But power such as his does not come without a cost.”
I shivered, not only at her words, but at the chill in the air, the change in her face. “What cost?”
