She stared at him for a beat, then pulled him toward the bed, sliding her lips against his. “Promise?” she whispered, drawing back.
“I’ll swear an oath?—”
And with that, the tension broke, laughter burst from Silla. “You and your oaths.”
She studied Rey’s face once more, fingertips tracing his healing black eye, tracing a cut above his eyebrow and a bruise on his neck. Dark circles hung under his eyes, his hair and beard untrimmed for some time. Clearly, the man had not been caring for himself.
“Why are you not in the bed?” she demanded.
Rey’s dark brows dipped down, sending a tame version of hisaxe eyesher way.
A warm shiver ran down Silla’s spine. “Come here, you obstinate man,” ordered Silla. “Is this how it will be with us? Shall I use force, or will you come on your own?”
The corners of his lips tugged up cautiously, making her heart sing. As she shifted over, he climbed onto the bed, his large body bowing the feather mattress. Silla found her place, tucked into the crook of his arm, and slid a hand onto his warm chest.
“I feared for you,” Rey admitted. “I did not know if you’d be…youwhen you awoke.”
“I’mme,” Silla said, probing inwardly once more. “I cannot feel him. Nor my own galdur.” She frowned. It was like an essential piece of herself, severed from her body. But she focused instead on Rey, on the steady beat of his heart through the wool of his tunic. Slowly, she felt his muscles easing, as though they’d held taut until this very moment.
She tried to gather her thoughts, but it was like wading through a bog. “What happens now?” she asked, uncertain if she wanted to know the answer.
Rey’s eyes fell shut. “We wait,” he said. “Sooner or later, Saga’s whereabouts will be confirmed. In the meantime, you rest. Recover from Svangormr Pass. We must search out all we can on Myrkur and his bargains. If King Hrolf truly did as you described in that vision,someoneknows something.”
Silla chewed on her lip, lost in thought. “And the Bloodaxe Crew?”
A long exhale. “They’ve not yet found success in Istré. I fear the job may be more complicated than we ever thought.” Rey cleared his throat. “Jarl Hakon wants to meet you. He has…things he wishes to discuss.”
Silla’s gaze met his, conveying her worries. A thumb skimmed along her jaw, smoothing some of her distress away. “Later,” he said softly. “All of it can wait until tomorrow.”
Rey settled on his back, and Silla snuggled closer. Soon she was lost in thought. Troubles in Istré. A meeting with Jarl Hakon. An assassination attempt on Ivar, and Saga now missing. Not to mention this gods damned bargain living in her body.
“Rey?” Silla asked softly.
“Mmm?”
“Everything’s about to change, isn’t it?”
He drew in a long breath. “Aye,” he said wearily.
But his hand slid to where hers rested on his chest, fingers threading together. He was warm and sturdy. Her rock in this crumbling world.
“Together,” whispered Silla.
“Together,” he replied.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
UNKNOWN
Scent returned to Saga first—wool and fresh timber and the salt of the ocean. Next came the warmth, the soft scratch of a blanket, the muss of fur against her cheek. And finally sound—rushing water, the groan of wood, muffled voices from somewhere above.
Eyes fluttering open, Saga’s gaze settled on the wooden panels overhead. Her heartbeat quickened. Where was the familiar crimson of her canopy? The scent of wet stone and woodsmoke? Slowly, it sank in.
Not in Askaborg.Warning bells chimed.Danger.Not safe.Sitting upright, Saga winced against the vicious throb at her temples.
“You awoke,” came a deep male voice from across the room.
She scrambled back in an uncoordinated rush until her spine collided with the wall. Vision spinning, it felt as though knives plunged into her skull. The memories collided all at once—the feast; the drugged wine; Eisa and the cage of undulating light.
