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Heir of Twisted Lies

Page 47

by L.J. Andrews

Gunter clapped his hands together. “Let’s get to it, then.”

Lyra tucked herself a little closer to my side. “You’re truly willing to do this, Gunter? No question?”

Levity faded when Gunter spoke again. “I was in the room, Melder.” He tipped his head at me. “My father is on the úlfur council. He aided in the split. I followed him. I watched what was done to my truest friend, my prince. I could feel the bond of his soul shadowed, slashed, corrupted. I would rather greet Salur than witness such pain again.”

I did not move. Every muscle clenched. All I could recall of those moments were the pain, the fear, the screams, and the smell of blood.

I’d not known Gunter had crouched somewhere in the shadows.

He went to the center of the bedchamber, asked Emi to find a blade, then gestured for me and Lyra to join him. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with this, so no one can ever hide this damn bond from you two again.”

16

Lyra

My pulse wouldn’t stop racing. The steady thud echoed in my skull when I followed Roark to the center of the room.

Gunter was half dressed, his hair a little wild, and there was a red raised mark on the side of his neck that seemed made by teeth. In this moment, he fit the feral reputation of the Draven clan.

A piece of me did not want to trust him easily, but when Gunter flashed me a grin, for a moment, my heart slowed.

“Melder, you’ll stand here.” He positioned me in front of his shoulder, facing Roark. “I suppose I ought to stop calling you melder since you’re my future queen.”

Blood drained from my face, noticeable enough that Brynn and Emi chuckled at our backs.

“Remember? You stole my crown.” Brynn twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

I looked over my shoulder. “I…I haven’t the slightest idea how to be…anything like a queen.”

Three slow squeezes to my palms drew me back to Roark’s piercing regard. He turned one of my hands palm up and spoke. Nor do I.

“You were born to royalty.”

But have lived apart in the role of Sentry. I never expected to survive Stonegate long enough to inherit my title.

My throat tightened. Roark planned to die as Sentry? No doubt he expected that if ever he slaughtered the king’s precious melder, he would be executed. Damir held no qualms about placing Roark on his front lines. If he survived punishment, I had few doubts Roark anticipated falling in battle one day.

To imagine a world where he was not here sent sick waves to my insides.

I returned the pulse of a squeeze to his hand, a silent way of telling him I was glad to be standing here. With him.

“All right, let us begin.” Gunter’s eyes fluttered closed. He paused for a heartbeat, another, then his eyes snapped open. The blaze of his lavender eyes shifted to a rich shade of indigo. “A drop of blood for aligned minds. May your thoughts and dreams always find a way to unite on the same path.”

I jolted when Brynn tapped the hilt of a knife against my arm.

“You’ll need to cut your palm,” she whispered.

I blinked. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Didn’t even explain the ceremony to her?” Gunter clicked his tongue at Roark and took the knife. “There will be three cuts for each of you. Tell me, Meld…Lyra, you’re not queasy when it comes to the taste of blood, are you?”

“I…don’t know.”

“I suppose we’ll find out together.” Gunter leveled the point of the knife against my palm, sliced a shallow cut, then guided my palm to Roark.

I froze. Without looking away, Roark lifted the gash to his lips and licked a drop away. I had no time to think on it before Gunter did the same and I was urged to take a bit of Roark’s blood on my tongue.

Where I anticipated the sharp tang, instead there was a bite of heat, like a hidden spice settled onto my tongue.