Ciaran hefted the Lirien into his arms with practiced ease, his movements careful but swift. I stayed where I was, slumped against my mother, my limbs shaking. My wrist still burned, but the Oath was done, the bond Sealed. And yet, I couldn’t shake the horror that I’d just opened a door I couldn’t close.
“What have I done?” I whispered, the words barely audible. They weren’t meant for anyone, but my mother heard all the same. She squeezed my shoulders, her grip firm despite the fear etched across her face.
“You’ve bound yourself to him,” she said softly, “but you don’t yet understand what that means.”
Her words sent a chill through me, colder than the forest air. I didn’t need her to explain. I could feel it already. A faint, foreign presence lingered at the edges of my mind, fragile and unfamiliar. The bond. I hadn’t expected it to feel so … real.
Ciaran glanced back, his face grim. “We need to move,” he said. “Hopefully we can set up a tent quickly, but if Seth’s men are on edge?—”
“I’m coming.” I forced my legs to cooperate, even as they wobbled beneath me. I couldn’t show weakness now. Not in front of Seth.
As Ciaran carried the Lirien away, Seth stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. The Vangar parted for him like shadows yielding to the flame. I didn’t flinch as he loomed over me.
“You think you’ve won something here,” Seth murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “But you’ve only made things worse—for you and everyone you care about. When the council decides your fate, don’t expect me to save you. You chose this, Seren. Remember that.”
His words were cutting, but there was something behind them—a flicker of something raw and unguarded. Hurt. Seth hid it well, but I caught it before he turned away. He wasn’t just angry about the Lirien. This was personal.
But he had no right. He’d done far worse to me. He’d thrown me away—betrayed what I’d thought was love. I owed him nothing. Definitely not remorse for my actions.
He turned on his heel, leaving me standing in the glow of the torches. His words lingered in the cold air, heavier than the bond itself. Whatever trial awaited me next, Seth would see it through—but so would I.
I couldn’t falter now.
Chapter 6
Rykr
A sharp smell woke me from a deep, unsated slumber. My arms fought against a cool bedsheet, and something warm and damp against my eyelids. A cloth. I flung it away, jerking back, and squinted.
Daylight filtered through the seams of a small, dimly-lit tent, its walls made of patched, weatherworn canvas fluttering in the wind. A wood stove glowed in one corner, filling the air with the scent of smoke. The pillow beside mine on the bedroll had a blanket neatly folded on top, and a low wooden table nearby held an assortment of jars, pitchers, and strange tools. The floor was layered with rough furs smelling of damp earth, and faint voices stirred outside, muffled by the thick tent walls.
A young woman sat beside me, holding a jar close to my nostrils.
Smelling salts?
No, something else. Strong enough to rouse me, but unfamiliar.
The woman I recognized. I’d encountered her in the Dreadwood …
The wolf-like creature.
I searched for my sword.
She lowered the jar, her gaze intense. “How do you feel?”
Dark, long lashes fringed her large, striking eyes—light brown, pupils rimmed with green and blue … eerily reminiscent of my family’s lineage.
I pushed aside my fascination, keeping my expression neutral. “Where’s my sword?”
Amusement sparkled in her eyes. “Really? That’s your first?—”
“Where am I?” I sat up despite the ache in my limbs, the effort sending a wave of dizziness through me. My body screamed for rest, but something raw and restless simmered under my skin. My hunger was sharp, nearly unbearable.
She leaned back, studying me. “You’re in the Viori territory. My tribe’s encampment.”
Viori. The word stirred my rage. Outlaws. Rebels. Enemies of Lirien. They claimed to stand against the Bloodbinding, but their cause had long since rotted into raids and slaughter, leaving border villages burned, innocents dead.
And now I was their prisoner.
