I attempted to lunge for him, but my efforts were futile. Ciaran was far too strong.
“I don’t want you to go,” I begged Rykr, my tears flowing more freely as I reached for him.
“I have to. For my father, and my brothers.” He kissed my hands then strode away, disappearing into the thick smoke.
I whirled to look for Tara, Esme, and Amahle, who flanked Ciaran as he hurried through the Havamal. I rubbed my bleary eyes, coughing against Ciaran’s chest. Spatters of blood accompanied each cough.
Tara touched my forehead, concern written on her face. “That bastard, Seth. Gods, Seren, you look terrible. We need to find Mother. She might be the only one who can heal you.”
Amahle stroked my back. “We have to keep moving, Seren. We’ll fight our way through the Vangar to get you out of here if necessary, but the more time we take, the more people we’ll have to face.”
Get me out of here?
“What do you mean?” I managed, my body shaking more violently.
“Your husband just announced to the entire Viori—and Haldron—that he’s the king of Lirien, Ser.”
Ciaran and Tara stumbled, then exchanged a look. Even Esme’s eyes went wide, though she couldn’t understand what had happened in her absence. “Wait a second—what?” Ciaran asked.
“There’s no time to explain right now.” Amahle panted as we ran. “But it turns out Seren didn’t just bond herself with a Lirien—she bonded herself with the prince. And if we don’t get her the hell out of the Dreadwood right now, she’s going to have every Vangar warrior in the territory hunting her.”
Tara still held Esme close, but there was a tension in her shoulders now, something different. Amahle, usually so quick to reassure me, didn’t say anything.
I looked at them—really looked at them—and saw what I hadn’t wanted to see.
I wasn’t one of them anymore.
They knew it. I knew it. And yet, some stubborn part of me refused to believe it.
I wasn’t just running for my life. I was running because I’d been cast out. I couldn’t remain here anymore.
I’d made myself an enemy of the Viori. Proven Ciaran right.
I was a traitor. My husband is the king of Lirien. Gods!
“And my family?” I managed. “Where will you go?”
Tara ran her fingers through her short hair. “The hell if I know. One problem at a time right now.”
I shook my head. “No. I refuse to be dragged away like this. Seth poisoned me with dragon’s blood, and I don’t know if I have much time left. Don’t you see? You’re the ones who have to escape. You’re the ones they’re going to punish.”
The fire from the stands singed us, the heat intensifying as we drew closer to the tunnels. Would there even be a place to escape from? The gates into the arena were all closed.
I didn’t want this.
Didn’t want them to die for me.
But Ciaran kept barreling forward, his speed increasing as we drew closer.
“This way!” a familiar voice called. Ciaran nearly skidded to a stop.
Darya stood near one of the tunnels on the inside, turning the crank to open it. Her face was filled with worry, fear, and defiance. After Seth’s betrayal, I didn’t trust her, but we had no other options.
We ran toward her as smoke and ash rained down on top of us, a shower of sparks and embers landing on our hair and skin. A massive wooden structure—the roof attached to the parapet—began to collapse.
If it fell, it would block our path into the tunnel.
My friends ran faster, Tara hauling Esme so quickly that my younger sister’s feet stumbled. Amahle left a trail of blood, the movement speeding the loss of blood.
