How could I even be king? Without my father to remove my Seal, was I bound to it forever? What was the law? Or was I free to bend it to my will now, as my father had?
Not that any of it mattered.
Because I don’t want to be king.
I was the youngest. Not like Erik, who’d spent his whole life preparing for the role. By the time I’d been born, no one had given more than a passing thought to the possibility of me being heir.
An icy wind cut through the trees, wrapping me in its desolate, cruel grip. My eyes stung, my jaw clenched so hard that my teeth ached.
Or I could just let them think they’d killed me. Disappear forever. No one would ever know.
No one has to know the truth.
Whatever twist of fate had brought me here, to these savages, to a woman who’d bound herself in sacred blood magic to me—the tempting voice in my head threaded doubt and confusion into my resolve.
No. I can’t.
If the Viori had murdered my brothers, it had taken precise, strategic planning. They must have had help, too, from within Lirien. Traitors who might kill me the second I returned to Ederyn. Traitors who were likely threatening everything I’d come from. These savages had murdered my family and Dalric.
Like it or not, I had to return. I couldn’t abandon Ederyn to chaos—especially not if Malin or any of my other family had survived. They needed a king. And whether I wanted it or not, I was the only one left.
But what was I supposed to do?
A dagger landed in the grass beside me, burying itself into the soft earth.
Tara approached, her expression wary. “Right. So, you’re suitably distracted. You didn’t even hear it coming toward you.” She paused and sat beside me.
Maybe she is the evil twin.
Seren’s older sister shared her features, but stood taller, was more muscular. Where Seren’s beauty was delicate, inherited from her mother, Tara carried herself differently—sharp, direct, as if she took after someone else entirely.
“Respectfully, Tara, you can fuck off. Unless you can get me back to Lirien, I don’t need your advice.” I had bigger concerns than anything Tara was worried about.
She grinned. “If you think I’m here to be your friend, then you’ve got me confused with my sister.” She pulled the dagger out of the ground and handed it to me. “The only thing I care about is my sister, understood? As it so happens, thanks to that oath she took—which you seem grateful for, by the way—that means keeping you alive. Now get up and start acting like her husband who wants to join our people, instead of sulking over royals who never knew you existed.”
I hadn’t expected sympathy, but her bluntness was almost refreshing.
She didn’t know and couldn’t care less that I’d just been served the most devastating news of my life. I wanted to burn the world down and she wanted me to lick my wounds and go play the ridiculous game keeping me alive.
Yet … what choice do I have?
Without a plan—hell, without someone to trust—I was as good as dead. If anyone learned who I really was, and if I didn’t break the bond with Seren, she’d be a constant threat to my life.
For now, I was stuck here.
I scowled, then tucked the dagger into the side of my boot. “Fine. But don’t expect me to celebrate.” Somehow, I’d retrieve Dalric’s body. My friend deserved a proper burial.
“That’s fair.” She gestured toward the dagger. “I’ll get you a sheath later today. Seren didn’t arm you?”
I shook my head.
“I’ll handle it. She’s had a lot on her mind … Or didn’t trust you enough. I’ll ask her.” She stood, glowering at me. “Oh, and one more thing?—”
“What’s that?”
“Word travels fast. People are already whispering about whether that bond’s real. Seth will use any excuse to call it fake. If he finds out you two haven’t consummated the marriage, he’ll twist it against you. Either fix it or make sure no one finds out. Personally, I’d pick the first. My mother seems to think there will be signs that … erm, your bond … is deepening. Others in the tribe familiar with Ibarran magic might expect that, too. And Seth is watching.”
Really?
