“We understand.” Without our magic, we were small threats. Even if we had been inclined to fight and flee, with so many people training in the hall we’d never make it.
We entered the training area, and everyone turned to stare. Svald’s presence seemed enough to dim some interest, but not all. About half of the room returned to what they’d been doing, and the others watched as we approached the weapons.
I picked a sword. Luccan took an axe and Thantrel, a mace. Neve studied the weapons before she too took a sword similar in size to Sassa’s Blade. My mate was training with her sword even when she didn’t have it in her grasp.
“You take the far corner,” Svald instructed.
“Are you going to train with us?” Thantrel asked, his eyes darting about as if he didn’t dare meet Svald’s gaze.
My eyebrows furrowed. Usually the youngest Riis brother had more control. He was a master of eyecontact—either to exude how powerful he was or charisma, depending on the situation. Now, however, he seemed about ready to jump out of his boots.
“We’re to stand with you. Not train.” Svald motioned toward the other guards who’d come with us, all still silent.
“Too bad for you. We could show you a good time.” Thantrel winked, but the gesture appeared jerky, not smooth.
“Than? Do you need water? Or food?” I asked. “You’re acting strange.”
“I’m fine,” Thantrel shot back, all the while shuddering again. “I . . .” He trailed off, eyes widening as he turned to face the entry to the training room again. “Bleeding skies. It can’t be!”
“What in the stars is wrong with him?” Duran muttered as the rest of us spun to see what had Thantrel in its grips.
“Who isthat?” Thantrel whispered, pointing to the door. A trio of fae were entering, one of whom I recognized.
As did Neve.
Her eyes widened. “The black-haired one in front?”
“W-w-who else is there!?” Thantrel sputtered, which initiated a sidelong glance from Luccan. Had Than lost his mind?
“That’s my twin, Thyra. She’s the leader of the rebels.”
A grin spread across Thantrel’s face as he shook his head. “That’s not all that she is. She’s also my mate.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You’ve got to be kidding. Thantrel, are you?—”
But he was off, red and orange fiery wings spreadand soaring across the sparring room, above fae who were fighting a single-minded mission.
“Skies! What an idiot!” Luccan leapt into the air to soar after Thantrel.
“Come on.” Neve took my hand, and we followed suit, also flying and leaving Duran in the corner with Svald.
“Thantrel!” I roared. “Stop!”
He did not heed my command. Rather, the youngest Riis brother soared all the way over Thyra, landing before her and bowing.
The leader of the rebels did not appear amused. She scowled as we closed in. “What do you want?”
“You, my love.” Thantrel reached for her hand, a move I’d seen him try many times on barmaids to great success.
Thyra batted his hand away. “Don’t you dare touch me. AndI’m notyour love. Are you drunk?”
I landed, Neve and Luccan right beside me. But before I could speak, Neve stepped forward.
“Thyra, he’s with us. He?—”
“I’m your mate,” Thantrel cut her off. “Surely you feel it? I’ve been sensing you since we were brought here. I thought it was the curse, but it was you, my beautiful raven-haired mate!”
Thyra’s face went blank, only for that shock to be replaced by a hardened jaw and narrowed eyes. “You’rewhat I’ve been feeling?!”
