Odd how, in many ways, I no longer knew myself by that name.
“I spoke with your mother,” Brogan said in a gruff voice to Seren, still watching me. “You were wise to stay here. The House of the Veil is filled with spies.”
“That’s where Mother was going, isn’t it? The sewer …” Seren’s eyes widened and she glanced at Thorne.
Thorne shifted beside Brogan, watching us both with caution. I’d given Thorne an earful about trusting Brogan. No matter what the man had done or claimed, I couldn’t and wouldn’t trust him. Anything else would mean sheer stupidity.
But Thorne had insisted. Brogan had found him in the forest. Helped him, rather than killed him. Led him to Emberstone. “Did you claim refuge with the Viori?” I asked Thorne.
Thorne lifted his right wrist with a scowl. “I got a shiny new brand and everything.” The Viori rune gleamed on his skin. “I still have to present myself for a loyalty test and pledge tonight. Before your trial.”
“Thorne, this is my wife, Seren,” I said, directing Seren’s attention to him.
“My lady,” Thorne said with a bow. “Thorne Ursidor, at your service.” He gave me a knowing look. “Now I know why you don’t want to leave.”
Seren looked him over carefully. “Thank you,” she said, but the anxious set of her features remained. Her gaze snapped back to her father. “Did you bring him here, Father? What are you doing here? Where’s Madoc … and Esme?”
Brogan’s grim expression shifted.
After a tense moment, he said, “Haldron has Esme.”
Seren gasped, her shock seeping through the bond, the strength of her pain like a gut punch.
Wait. That daughter? That was the daughter Ragnall had come to rescue?
I felt the way Seren’s mind shifted. The way her thoughts raced, boiling with rage and questions as her eyes turned toward me, lips parted, shaken to her core.
The leader of her people was the villain she’d been looking for all this time. The one who’d taken her beloved sister.
Both Ciaran and Amahle looked equally stunned. “What the hell?” Amahle breathed.
“Why?” Seren gripped her father’s arm. “Why did he take her?”
Brogan rubbed his bearded jaw. His shoulder-length brown hair was in disarray, as though he’d been living in the wilds for some time. “To manipulate me. To force my hand into something he knew I’d never have agreed to otherwise. He ordered me to plan and execute the assassination of King Magnus and his sons.”
Thorne reacted faster than I could. The cold clang of metal rang as Thorne’s sword left the holster at his back, the edge of his blade stopping inches away from Brogan. “You son of a bitch,” Thorne growled, betrayal and rage on his dark, golden face.
But my own rage was silent, deeper. A slow, festering thing. It clawed up my throat, threatening to consume the logic I barely clung to.
My ears rang with a sharp sense-dulling scream, my heart numb and cold. My pulse beat harder, and I blinked at Brogan, as the meaning of his declaration sank slowly through my skin. I’d been blocking the connection between Seren and me since I’d come into the room, but I threw further effort into it now.
The truth would endanger everyone here.
My breath left me in a slow, shaking exhale, and my vision blurred at the edges. I wanted to drive my sword straight through Brogan’s throat. Not just for my mother.
But for my father. For my brothers.
My hand was already on my hilt, the leather warm beneath my grip.
Brogan met my stare with something unreadable.
“You don’t deserve to speak their names,” I said finally, voice tight with control.
Seren threw herself in front of her father. “No!” She breathed hard, her eyes meeting mine. “Wait, please. Please, Rykr, tell your friend to stand down.”
“Your blade is perilously close to my wife, Thorne,” I managed, noting the tension in both Amahle and Ciaran. Their worry and confusion … and hands inching closer to their own weapons. I took slow, deliberate steps toward Ragnall then set my hand on Thorne’s shoulder. “If anyone executes Brogan Ragnall, it’s me.”
Seren’s eyes widened. “Rykr, you don’t understand?—”
