“So, we will have a war on two fronts,” he rasped. One with Astera and one waged on his own people. Everything was fallingapart, but he could not give up. Too much was at stake. “What is being done to keep them from leaving the mountains?”
Olwen completely stilled, and the expression melted from his face. “We dealt with them.”
“What were our casualties?”
“Five.”
Neve blinked slowly. “I do not believe I heard you right.”
“You heard me. We first tried to treat with them to save as many lives as possible.” Olwen sneered, his pace speeding up. “But only received a volley of flaming arrows in reply. It was a clear act of war.” Olwen’s eyes glimmered with white along the edges, the berserker coming to the front. “We had the high ground, and Abeo had an idea.” A pause. “We buried them in snow.”
Neve blinked slowly. “The explosions.” He ran a hand over his mouth. “You brought an avalanche down upon them.”
“We did.”
It was a horrid way to die. “Any survivors?” he rasped. They had attacked his own people.
People who were intending your destruction.
“I doubt it, but I have men stationed at the top of the mountain. I will not send them down into the valley to search until the snow settles.”
Standing, he exited the tent, feeling too warm—a side effect of the bond and his grief. The brisk air cooled his heated skin, and he watched as the sky began to turn pink, signaling the rise of the sun. Olwen stepped outside and stood beside him.
“It had to be done,Reillov.”
“I know.” But the loss of life was too great. He glanced at his best friend, who could not stop fidgeting. “Are you alright?”
“No, but I can’t think about it right now.” Olwen swallowed hard. “If I look too closely at the last few weeks, I’ll go mad.”
Neve felt the same way. War left its mark. “I need a missive sent to Eyri. The palace needs to be fortified.”
“I’ve already sent two with different couriers in case of spies amongst our ranks.” He huffed, his breath puffing out in a cloud. “They knew you were here. That is why they left their littlegift. You need to be vigilant with your security.” Olwen eyed Neve from the corner of his eye. “Where is Flyka?”
“I asked thenonnaeto drug her last night so she would get some proper rest and healing.”
His friend whistled. “She’s not going to be happy with you.”
“She’s never happy with me.” The sun rose a little higher, the sky turning a soft orange. The next battle with thesaloeswould soon rage on. No rest for the wicked.
“You should know that we found bodies on the southern side of the mountain.” Olwen chuckled. “Your wife and whoever her companion was killedsevennorthern giants. Dahlia’s scent and blood was all over the snow.”
Neve smothered the growl that wanted to escape at the mention of Dahlia’s—no, the traitor’s—blood. He could not afford to think of her in any other way. “The one who bit her?”
“Dead.”
It did not feel like enough. Neve wanted to bring the male back to life just so he could kill him again. “Good.”
“One had been beaten to a pulp. The amount of force that would have been needed...” His commander whistled. “We have a berserker on our hands or someone who was so lost to rage they didn’t even know what was happening.”
There was something in Olwen’s tone that had Neve arching a brow. “Which is it?”
His commander pursed his lips. “I’m not sure.”
“But you have your suspicions.” Neve frowned at Olwen. He was never this vague. That was Flyka’s realm.
“I think there is a good chance it was a berserker.”
Neve faced Olwen and crossed his arms. “Then why the hesitancy to say so?”
