I hugged her, my worries ebbing. “Thank you.” I wouldn’t ask her for more—her spirit gliding ability drained her quickly, and it was wrong to take advantage of her gift. And Tara is coming.
I squared my shoulders and took my place before the wooden platform, clasping my hands behind my back to mask the clamminess of my palms. As the other members of the council took their seats, I tried to pretend my life didn’t depend on a hot-tempered Lirien who saw me as his captor.
Ciaran had done me a favor by insisting on guarding Rykr himself ensuring he made it here unharmed. What happens after that … is up to Rykr and Seth. Two men I can’t trust.
I hated being this vulnerable.
The row of candidates sitting together tugged at my heart—Esme should be there. Ciaran’s younger sister, Moira, caught my eye and offered a small wave, her smile quick but warm. She was Esme’s friend.
Gods, I miss her.
But I hate the Liriens more for taking her.
I lifted my chin as Soroush began the meeting, his voice so paper-thin that it barely carried over the crowd. He might help me, as he obviously knew about the oath. But he hadn’t looked at me once.
He gestured to Seth, who stood. “The council calls forth the matter of Seren Ragnall and the Lirien she brought into our encampment three days ago.”
Attentive silence followed, and all eyes were focused on me. Everyone already knew what had happened—stories traveled fast here. This would feed the gossip mill for months.
“Allow the Lirien to approach the council.” Soroush waved a leathery hand forward.
Ciaran led Rykr down the main aisle, Vangar guards behind them.
Rykr had been striking with his golden hair, but the dark hair he had now suited him even more. Despite the irons binding his wrists and ankles, Rykr carried himself like a man who’d allowed himself to be bound, not one who had been forced. Even in chains, he radiated strength—his broad shoulders set firm, his stance unwavering, as if daring anyone to challenge him.
The crowd noticed him, too. A hum of murmurs arose, particularly among the women, craning their necks for a better view of him.
Ciaran halted when Rykr was beside me, inclining his head toward Seth before retreating to sit beside Amahle. Rykr had been furious with me after being bound, so I wasn’t surprised that he wouldn’t look at me now.
Seth approached, his eyes sweeping over Rykr with distaste. “What’s your name, Lirien?”
Rykr shifted his weight and surveyed the gathering space, a muscle in his forearm flexing.
“Rykr Westhaven.”
“And where are you from?”
“Pendara.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Really?” Rykr’s broad shoulders flexed back, a flicker of annoyance in his face. “I’m Sealed. Unless you don’t trust your own eyes, your question is pointless.”
Seth’s expression darkened further.
I cringed. Gods, he’s arrogant. I stepped closer to Rykr, lowering my voice so only he could hear. “Don’t antagonize him. Keep a level head, or we’ll both die today.”
Seth studied Rykr, his eyes sharp with unspoken challenge. I knew that look. He’d take advantage of Rykr’s temper if he could. “What were you doing in the Dreadwood?”
“Hunting vuks.” Rykr didn’t bother to look back at Seth as he answered.
Liar. When he’d woken, he’d asked about the “wolf creature”—which meant he didn’t even know what a vuk was. Not that I would give him away.
Seth’s incredulous scoff made me hold my breath. “Seems like a foolhardy mission, considering they’re immortal and impossible to kill.”
“Maybe for you.” Rykr’s eyes flicked back to Seth, lazily.
Dammit, Rykr.
