Thord does not react beyond staring down at him. Enough time passes, and he isn’t sure his father will respond.
“My son,” he leans forward until his gray eyes meet Sigvid’s piercing gaze, “sometimes life offers us a better path to walk down. It may not be what we planned or are comfortable with, but the path will lead us to a far better pasture.”
Thord takes Sigvid’s upper arms in his massive hands. “You have the role meant for you. I cannot explain why this responsibility falls to you. Not yet. You must prepare to protect something bigger than you can imagine.”
“What is that, Father?”
Thord glances up as his mother joins them. “Something precious. I imagine you feel trapped, but you must trust me. When you are older, you will understand.”
Sigvid nods, despite the warring unfairness prickling under the surface.
6
SIGVID
Present
August 11th, Year 100, 9th Era
Scarwood Citadel, Timber Province
Sigvid awakes from a sleepless night chained to the wall of the cell. After she sucked his cock a week ago, he has yet to see the Timber Queen. Instead, her dear friend Lenzo the Torturer has been prompt with his daily visits of fire extract.
Except for this morning.
Sigvid is left alone with only his thoughts of how lovely Avina would look with the cold steel of his axe embedded between her breasts. Her warm blood trickling over her skin in a stunning painting of her life essence.
“Of course…” he scoffs, glancing down at his hard cock. He leans the back of his head against the stone wall. The brief moment conjures her stunning features that only seek to infuriate him.
The memory of his mystery woman from the Sapphire Palace haunts his nights.
To think all this time, she was Avina.
The Timber Wench is driven and intelligent. He will give her that. What Sigvid cannot decide is if he wants to claim her as his whore or strangle her for bewitching him.
Maybe he will do both.
His cell door bangs open, ripping his existential musings back to the reality that he remains chained in her fucking dungeon. Except the man who enters is not the torturer. The flickering sconces illuminate a brute who dominates the space with muscles the size of tree trunks.
His gaze assesses Sigvid as if evaluating a prized stallion. “And what anexcellentnight for you, Sigvid Thordsson.” He nods to his fully erect bulge.
The stranger bore a haunting emblem across his chest: two axes crossed over a skull.
Treland Arena.
That bitch sold me to the fucking Arena?
He seethes, feeling his erection soften as cold betrayal washes over the heat of the memories.
“Only if you send in a lovely woman to finish me off.” Sigvid jokes as two more men bearing the Arena sigil follow their leader inside. The others begin unchaining him from the wall, allowing blood to rush back to his hands.
“The Timber Council has ruled on your fate, Sigvid Thordsson.” The Arena representative continues to assess him with interest. “They condemn you to live out your life in the Treland Arena. However long or short it may be.” He smirks.
Sigvid snarls savagely, wondering how many times he can bash this man’s head against the wall before it turns to mush.
“Did you believe you had another chance to fight against the Timber Province?”
No, I thought I had another chance to take the Queen.
