“Fucking asshole, it is you,” I muttered under my breath.
“You’re being watched.” His voice was rough, almost guttural. How he could speak in bear form, I had no idea—but if anyone could defy the rules of nature, it was Thorne.
“I’m aware. Trying to get out as we speak.” I drew in another sharp breath and scanned the perimeter for my captors. “You’re a shapeshifter.”
“And you’re the godsdamned heir to the throne.” A throaty, bear-like huff followed.
I leaned my head back against the boulder, my legs numb. Cautiously, I glanced over my shoulder as if just noticing the wild animal. My fingers curled around my dagger carefully. “Don’t get any closer. Unless you want them to start rumors about me being some kind of bear whisperer. Were you with”—I struggled to say his name—“Dalric? When they killed him?”
An affirmative grunt came.
“I managed to track his scent after I woke from the whistler poison. Saw them kill him. Then I came looking for you once I realized who they’d really been after.”
I closed my eyes, fighting the tightness in my chest. Dalric had been my most faithful friend, one of the only ones who’d ever truly seen me—believed I was worth something. And yet, I’d lied to him for years about who I was. He’d given his life for mine, and all I could do now was bury him like a forgotten secret.
Any other question I had about him was too painful to voice. His death hadn’t been swift or painless—that much was clear from the way they’d strung him up. That Thorne had been forced to witness it while I’d done nothing only deepened my shame.
At last, I managed. “You know about my family, then?”
Another grunt. “Does it mean you’re king?”
“Not until I’m crowned by the High Magister from Ibarra. They say the priest calls upon the power of the Everspire to confer the gods’ gifts. But who knows.”
“But you are the heir, aren’t you?” Thorne’s amber eyes gleamed in the moonlight, as though he was alert, ready to strike at any moment.
“I believe so. My nephew, Ivar, is only fourteen. He’s Eriks’s son and would be the heir, but the lineage passes to the closest male heir over fifteen.” Just one year older and Ivar would have had a stronger claim than I did.
Thorne exhaled slowly. “So, if you don’t return before he turns fifteen, he’ll be crowned king.”
I rubbed my tired eyes. The distant drumbeats of the savage Viori—reveling in the death of my family—sickened me. I had too much to explain and I had to be almost inaudible.
Hopefully Thorne had a bear’s superior senses. My lips barely moved as I whispered, “They think I’m dead and won’t wait for Ivar to come of age. But a boy king leaves Lirien exposed—ripe for rebellion, with every rival claiming the right to rule. If they crown him before I return, the gods’ gifts—or whatever power my father wielded—might be lost forever. And without a true king, Lirien will tear itself apart.”
Thorne growled in a low rumble. “Well, if there are divine gifts, won’t they pass to Ivar when he’s crowned? Will your claim be diminished?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted through clenched teeth, exasperated by his questions and my own ignorance. “I was supposed to grow old, get drunk, and make terrible decisions, not inherit a throne everyone wants to kill me for. I never asked about the coronation secrets because I was never supposed to need them.”
Thorne bowed his head. “I apologize, Your Highness.”
“No, don’t. We’re just Thorne and Rykr. I’d like that to remain the same.”
“But—”
“For fuck’s sake, if you truly view me as your king, take that as a command.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “I’m not irritated with your questions. I just don’t have the answers. And thousands of highly skilled Unbound Viori warriors who would love to see me dead sit between me and the borders of Lirien where I can get those answers. If my father hadn’t locked away my powers, maybe I could’ve done something clever—like fly out of here. But no, here I am, freezing my ass off and talking to a bear.”
I took a breath. “I believe the moment the High Magister utters the words of consecration, any divine powers are transferred to the heir. My father had a large rune of the Everspire on his chest. I think he received it when he was crowned.”
I had to get out of this water, unless I wanted my legs to fall off and join the stream, which would really ruin my chances of walking out of this mess alive.
The Viori watching me kept their distance, convinced by my apparent need for a bath.
“I have to get moving before I’m too frozen to run properly. I thought traveling by water would throw off my scent.”
“This is your plan? Freeze yourself then travel wet and cold in a forest you don’t know?”
“Do you have a better plan?” I grunted.
“No, but I can come up with something better than this. Sometimes I forget how green you are. Doesn’t do you any good to be able to kill someone with your thumbs if you don’t know how to survive the forest. You started training too late.”
