“Well, in this case he wanted to punish me for fighting Seren. Or at least that’s what he implied.”
Amahle gave me a curious look, tilting her head for me to walk with her. “I’m not in the habit of talking about my friends to anyone, but you should know … Seren and Seth had an intense love affair. Secret. I was shocked when he ended it. One day, he was just … different. And then Darya was his wife. But I’ve always suspected, deep down, he still has feelings for Seren.”
Seth? “Are we talking about the same man who ordered her flogged with twenty lashes?”
“I know it sounds crazy. But I also think the flogging was more about you than her. I’m worried about her. We all are.” She studied my profile. “Given how closely your life is tied to hers now, I think it would be in your interest to help her, rather than push her away.”
“What do you think I was doing in that sparring ring? If I can’t see where she’s weak, I can’t help her.”
Amahle hesitated, her intelligent gaze alert as we headed into the darkness of the woods from the clearing. “The Skorn trial isn’t a game. I know there’s tension between the two of you, and that was painfully obvious in the ring. You want to help her, but you can’t tear her down in the process. All I’m asking is that you be worthy of the sacrifice she made for you. She saw good in you worth saving. Help her—without an agenda. She’s one of the best and bravest women I know, and since the moment she decided to honor her debt to you, she’s done nothing but fight for you.”
Shame trickled through me. I had been trying to help. But maybe that required a little less arrogance.
“Thank you for your honesty.” The way the spark had gone out of Seren’s eyes while we’d been fighting had worried me. She’d seemed so defeated—so flat. Ever since I’d interrupted her conversation with Ciaran, she carried the weight of more guilt on her chest. Guilt I’d made worse by straining her friendships.
What was worse, I didn’t know how to handle what I felt each time I thought of Seren Ragnall. Raw, fiery lust was easy—that’s why the taunting on the sparring ring floor hadn’t bothered me, despite my better judgment.
But when I let myself feel? I saw the strength and bravery Amahle spoke of.
I was starting to care about this woman.
Someone I had every reason to hate. To distrust.
That was new, unchartered territory.
And it scared the curpiss out of me.
The blaring of horns cut through my thoughts. Amahle and I both lifted our heads, sharply. I might not know much about the Viori, but even from where I came from, horns weren’t a good sign. “What is it?”
“An attack in the encampment.” Amahle’s eyes glittered. “Come with me. Hurry.”
We tore through the forest. I’d managed to slip out of the sparring ring free of irons. What I needed, though, was a fucking sword.
Chaos had overtaken the field where the sparring had been, as Vangar warriors rushed to extinguish fires, grab horses, and run.
“Rykr, where are you?” Seren’s voice in my head cut through the noise.
“Near the sparring ring. You?” I scanned the field, but she was nowhere in sight.
“With Ciaran. Getting the horse. Stay there and I’ll find you.”
Tara spotted us and strode forward, her face set in grim determination. “You two, come with me,” she ordered.
“What the fuck is going on?” Amahle asked her we fell into step with her.
“I’m going with your sister. I’ll meet you at the encampment.” Better to stay with people I knew wouldn’t take the opportunity to stab me from behind for now.
Tara didn’t answer but led us to a group of Vangar with horses, including Seth. “Get on a horse,” she said, then paused beside me. Her eyes darted to mine and she lowered her voice. “That horn is only used for the severest level of attack, Rykr. Regulation soldiers. Stay with me. If it is Liriens, this won’t go well for you.”
A tangle of hope and worry gripped me as I swung into the saddle. What if this was Thorne’s escape plan? He could have gone back to Cairn Hold, gathered reinforcements, and brought them here.
But if Seren encountered them before I could? Even Thorne didn’t know the risk she posed to my life.
The group launched into a gallop, tearing toward the encampment. Tara kept to my side, Amahle behind me. Seth, too, stayed close—either escorting me or ensuring I wouldn’t take advantage of the attack to flee.
The wind bit my skin as we rode, and the tension on my companions’ faces was unmistakable. The sky darkened the closer we got, thick clouds billowing overhead, heralding an oncoming storm.
A sharp, rancid scent curled in my nostrils. I inhaled again and turned to Tara. “What’s that smell?”
