Thrain begins a slow clap. “Bravo, brother. You dance so wonderfully. I couldn’t have staged this better myself.”
“What is this, Thrain?” Ceowald demands.
“Shut it, Bloodstone. Helga mentioned something to me after I witnessed the gross interactions between Sigvid and Avina at my party.” Thrain murmurs thoughtfully. “Your predictable line of questioning is what my friend here needs to know how best to torture my brother.”
Ceowald blusters. “I have more questions about what this beast has done. Where is my heir? She must take control of Treland.”
“Patience, Ceowald. You and I have been too blind to notice the truth between us. Now, we can reap his pain. My dear, sweet Mali, go to work.” Thrain pulls up a chair and sits backward against it, his arms perched along the back. Ceowald steps closer, his eyes burning with suspicion.
Mali bears no expression as she twists her hands in the air. Smoke-like liquid copper swirls between her movements as her black spell builds. Once her hands cease, her mouth breaks into a wicked grin, and she thrusts the cloud at Sigvid.
An unnerving smell, like dried blood, honey, and fresh roses, suffocates his senses. He sneezes violently until the mist dissipates, and he realizes he is on the ground, alone in his jail wing.
When did they leave? Had he passed out when theseidrstruck? Wouldn't he remember that happening?
“Sigvid! Thank Goddess, you are okay!” Avina materializes at the cell door dressed in a lovely blue Salt gown he had purchased yet had not gifted to her.
Has she been invisible? Would he not have seen her as Guardian? How did she get here? Why is she alone and unarmed?
He leaps to his feet and presses his hand against the bars. Yet he cannot penetrate the gaps anymore. Somehow,seidrkeeps him from reaching her. “I think this is a trap.”
“Sigvid, do not-” She looks over her shoulder and screams. The piercing sound ignites a rare fear in the berserker.
Thrain appears around the corner, bearing a menacing smile. “Ready to give yourself to me, Avina? As your husband and king.”
Thrain throws her front against the cell wall and bunches her skirtto her waist. Sigvid’s body tenses to lurch toward his brother, but nothing happens.
His feet cannot move.
He cannot reach Avina.
He cannot save her.
Sigvid stands horrified and frozen.
Thrain meets his brother’s eyes as he forces himself into Avina from behind. She screams and claws at his exposed skin in her vain attempts to escape.
Every bit of his heart that can crumble shatters when her deep blues lift to him.
“Please!” She wails. “Sigvid, save me!”
She sobs a gut-wrenching cry at each of Thrain’s thrusts. Continually, she begs Sigvid to stop Thrain from killing her. But he can only silently observe while his body shudders with a fury he has never known. Her big blue eyes water in pain and betrayal as the dawning realization settles over her brilliant mind.
He will not come to her aid.
Suddenly, the cold, unwavering sensation of iron cuffs encircling his wrists jogs him to his own helplessness. When did he become chained within the cell? No matter how hard he lunges and strains, he cannot reach his little Queen.
After Thrain finishes inside her, he drops her body to the ground. “What did I say about carrying Sigvid’s child?”
Pregnant? No, this is a fantasy fooling me.
Remember, this is false! It is all an illusion!
“No, please, Thrain!” Her arms cover her stomach protectively.
His brother collects a mace from the ground and swings it in the air a few times before he raises it above her body.
Sigvid roars, yet no sound emanates from his mouth. No matter what he says or does, his wrath does not leave his lungs.
