He was trying to make me feel better, but right now, I didn’t want comfort.
“What now?” Rykr’s calm tone grated against the storm in my chest.
“I don’t know!” The words burst out before I could stop them. “We came here for answers, and all we got were riddles and death threats. How am I supposed to process that?”
He frowned, his jaw tightening. “I’m trying to protect you. Simple as that.”
“Simple?” I snapped, my voice rising. “Nothing about this is simple.”
His gaze softened, and I hated how it disarmed me. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his hand brushing against mine. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
The words silenced me. I don’t want to lose you either.
And I was suddenly exhausted. Solric. For all I knew, I had less than twenty-four hours. Either the Skorn trial would kill me, or the bond would. The desire in me to fight, to unravel the deeper meaning behind the Seidr’s words was secondary to my need to simply live. The weight of everything on my heart might break me otherwise.
Moistening my lips, I nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Rykr squeezed my shoulders then leaned forward, kissing my forehead, gently.
I think he meant to pull away right away, but he didn’t. Instead, his arms wrapped around my back, holding me in a comforting embrace. The warmth of him seeped into my skin, steadying me as I closed my eyes, lost to the solid press of his body.
“She cannot survive the bond … he will release a great evil inside her.”
Either way, I was fucked.
Except in the literal sense of the word, and that’s my fault, too.
Kissing Rykr had unleashed every desire I’d been denying the last few days. Even now, I could picture every hard ridge of muscle, the crimson and black tattoos lining his skin. When he’d stripped off his shirt and offered to take my flogging, he’d looked like something carved from legend.
The Seidr’s words echoed in my mind. “His blood is precious.” Precious. Why? Because he was Sealed? He’d been selected from millions by that—set apart. Or was there more?
He’d always been different—polished, disciplined, too refined to be an ordinary soldier from Pendara. And the way he fought, the way he carried himself … it didn’t match the story he’d told me about being disowned by his father.
Who was he? And what wasn’t he telling me?
I pulled away from him, wanting to stop the warring thoughts within my mind as we started back toward the Bellwether.
Truth was, despite the risk I’d taken, I couldn’t regret saving Rykr’s life at all. He challenged me in ways I didn’t expect. Growing up with the Viori, whenever my parents had spoken positively of Liriens, I’d always just assumed they were reminiscing through nostalgic lenses.
The more time I spent with Rykr, the more I wondered if the Viori’s stories were half-truths at best. The Viori taught us that Liriens were monsters, their Bloodbinding a symbol of their cruelty. But Rykr didn’t seem cruel.
He’d bled for me, fought for me, stood by me when I didn’t deserve it. How many Viori would do the same for a Lirien?
Maybe the Viori weren’t so different from the Liriens. Both sacrificed their own for the illusion of safety, for power disguised as tradition. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.
The soft brush of Rykr’s thumb against the back of my hand pulled me from my thoughts.
A sad smile crossed my lips.
I liked Rykr. So much.
Had he been anyone else, I would have fallen for him easily, and not just because he was so utterly attractive.
But our visit to the Seidr had affirmed what my mother had said—I needed to keep my distance from him. Guard my heart.
But it was too late for that.
I love him.
