“I figured you’d want it where you could see it. Don’t worry. I’m not planning to use it.” His words were calm, but the tension between us crackled.
Guilt twisted in my gut. I should let him out of the irons. Every time I saw the raw marks on his wrists, shame tightened its grip. But I didn’t just distrust him. I distrusted myself, too—my judgment was clouded where Rykr was concerned.
Before I could second-guess myself again, I left. I couldn’t afford to make another mistake, not with so many lives at stake. He didn’t deserve to be treated like a prisoner—not when he’d saved my life. But if I didn’t find a way forward soon, we’d both pay the price in Emberstone.
Chapter 14
Rykr
I waited until Seren had been gone for an hour before slipping out of the tent.
The Viori warriors Seth had assigned to follow me were easy enough to spot—my training in Pendara hadn’t been in vain—and for some reason my senses seemed heightened here.
I could smell them. Hear them breathing.
Another effect of the oath? Or was my Seal responding to my new environment?
Two men had been shadowing me since morning. Whether Seren had noticed them didn’t matter.
The time had come for me to work for my own interests.
I headed toward a stream despite the bracing cold that came with night.
The forest gleamed under the silvery moonlight, a mix of shadows and pale outlines. In the Regulation, I’d learned to appreciate the night for the cover it provided, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think the Viori didn’t know how to use it just as well.
Even my eyesight seemed sharper as I removed my boots, settling my feet into the cold, slick, leaf-covered stream bank. Then I nearly laughed at myself.
With the fucking irons on, I couldn’t remove my shirt or my trousers.
Dammit, Seren.
I didn’t have a lot of options. Eventually, I might find a tool to pick the lock like she had. But for now, I needed a quick means to get a head start—one that couldn’t be tracked by hounds or humans. Water was the best option.
Fuck it. Lifting my head, I said loudly, “Sorry, boys, show’s canceled. I know you were dying to see if I have tattoos in places the irons didn’t touch, but you’ll have to use your imaginations.” I waded into the barely moving water.
When I snuck a glance toward the Vangar warriors trailing me, I almost chuckled. Message received. They’d moved farther away.
The bitterly cold water sluiced past my legs, moving languidly, and my stomach tensed as I prepared to lower myself into the thigh-high current. Holding my breath, I slipped under the surface slowly, trying to behave like a man enjoying the bracing cold, rather than suffering the insane torture that it was.
A thousand sharp needles stabbed into my skin, as I clenched my fists, forcing out slow, deliberate breaths.
Fuuuuuuck.
This better be godsdamned worth it.
I broke through the surface of the water, my chest heaving, and scooted toward a boulder at the edge of the stream, pressing my back against the smooth, frozen stone as my body attempted to adjust.
A soft crunch of leaves nearby made me go rigid.
A lone black bear stood at a distance, barely visible in the dim light.
But the scent … familiar.
A snort, followed by a soft chuckle, came from the other side of the boulder as the bear stepped closer, then drank from the stream. “Hello, Rykr.”
Thorne. The hair on the back of my neck bristled.
Maybe Dalric hadn’t been exaggerating about his shapeshifting after all.
