Page 56 of Soul of Fire

When we entered the hall, the first thing I saw was both of them on their knees before the dais. Jorgen sported a black eye and a split lip, and Arik had a gash across his temple that was slowly oozing blood.

Why weren’t they healing?

“Branka.” It was Jorgen who spoke, his voice full of rage and panic as he saw his mate being marched at sword point by the king’s guard.

Arik’s eyes met mine, and I searched for the familiar feeling of him at the other end of our mental bridge.

He wasn’t there.

Kjære.My voice sounded panicked in my own head, and I looked at him beseechingly. He shook his head once, the move so small the guards would likely have missed it.

He couldn’t hear me.

Where is my mate?Idunn raged, her fire burning hot inside me. Her panic gripped my heart, making my pulse thunder in my veins.What have they done with him?

Arik’s eyes widened as we drew near, and I knew Idunn must be shining through my eyes.

I don’t know, dearest, but we will find him.I reined her in, not understanding what was going on.He’s not gone. He can’t be gone. Arik would be dead, yes?

Idunn’s panic lessened a fraction as Branka and I were pushed to our knees beside Arik and Jorgen, who both had their hands tied fast behind their backs. The king hadn’t bothered to shackle either me or Branka after taking the Book and returning it to the skalds, and I thanked the Hearthmother for his misogyny.

If he assumed we were the lesser threat, he was sorely mistaken.

“So.” The king came to stand before us, his hands behind his back and brow furrowed as he looked between me and his son. “You were going to leave against my orders.”

It wasn’t a question, and Arik didn’t bother denying it. He was infuriatingly silent, his indifferent mask firmly in place, and I beat ineffectually at the mental wall that cut me off from him to no avail.

“Explain why you tried to take the Book. Is this about your foolish idea of closing the Rift?”

Arik said nothing.

The king sneered, signaling to one of his guards. “Take her.”

I was lifted to my feet, my arms wrenched back so sharply I couldn’t help but cry out. The cold press of steel dug into my throat, and Arik broke.

“Don’t you fucking touch her.”

“Ah, he speaks!” The king leaned down to look at Arik eye to eye. “I told you I would find a way to motivate you.”

“Let her go, and I’ll tell you anything you want,” Arik said quietly, his eyes pleading.

I pushed and pushed at the wall between us, Idunn lending me her strength. But Baldur was just…gone.

“What have you done to them?” The point of the blade dug in sharply as I spoke. I didn’t care. Idunn’s fury and terror were a raging beast within me. “Where is Baldur?”

“Both of you are so easily motivated.” The king sounded delighted. “And here I thought this might prove challenging. Very well, Arik.”

He waved his hand at the guard, who let me go so abruptly I stumbled. I could already feel Idunn’s magic working its way toward the strained muscles of my shoulders as I ran for Arik. I knelt beside him and brushed the blood from his temple, pushing some of Idunn’s magic into him to close the wound.

“Don’t, Kjære.” The murmured words were a balm to my panic, but Idunn still thrashed around violently as she looked for Baldur. “I’m alright.”

He looked up at his father, stony mask firmly in place as if he couldn’t feel Idunn’s turmoil.

“See that I am a man of my word.” The king held his arms wide, as if he had granted us a gift. “Are you a man of yours?”

“We needs the Book to seal the Rift. We were going to take it and flee back to Ironholm.”

Almost the truth. I was certain Arik had intended us to go to Sigrid first, but the less his father knew, the better.