Hearing him speak his name shoots chills up her spine.
He is the infamous mentee of her father, who was sent to Skalor to uncover the Draemonium threat. If one were to believe the legends surrounding him, one would find him initially vile and disturbing.
His sordid history leaves her fixed beneath his unnerving stare and should be her cue to abandon the ship. Not to linger with a man who can end her life with a mere touch of his ice abilities.
Yet, considering the day’s horror, she feels safest here, caged in his brawny arms.
“Why are you not accompanying your men in the taverns tonight?” Almost immediately, she regrets her accusation.
A wariness akin to sadness flickers behind his gaze. “Only one man accompanies me on this journey. Most prefer my absence anyway.”
“Why?” The question bursts from her lips before she can wrangle it in.
Any trace of weakness evaporates, and he leans in closer until she can feel his hot breath caress her face. “Because I have committed terrible atrocities. Barbaric acts a young woman like yourself could never conceive.”
“I hold no ill will toward you-”
“If I am alone, then I am only hurting myself. And isn’t that better?”A cool bitterness laces his words.
She wishes to ease the apparent pain haunting him. Her hands twitch at her side to reach for him when the air around her suddenly grows frigid.
She wraps her arms around herself instead.
“You are early for the Conclave.” She states awkwardly, unsure how to converse with a man likened by many to the Abyss Demons.
“Lord Commander asked me to arrive early to discuss matters.”
She chuckles. “You must have my father’s confidence if that is true. He hates unnecessary time spent with people other than family.”
Shit!She had not intended to reveal herself.No return now.
“I stepped into his Inner Circle after the death of Helga.” He dismisses her revelation, perhaps suspecting her identity. Despite his cold gaze, he exudes a calm power that wraps and comforts thePrincess. It shudders deep in her bones, nudging her to seek his approval.
“Are you not a warrior?” He asks.
“Of sorts.” She bites along her bottom lip, once more debating how much to share. “I would be much stronger if permitted to access my real power.”
Thankfully, whatever gust of cold chilled her bones alleviates, leaving her with the warm summer air.
He drinks her in from slippers to curls. “The young halvgud collared by the gods.” He smirks.
“They wish to see how I handle the abilities through the Sacred Stones. There was a time when my parents believed the gods, not theNorn,granted myseidr. Regardless, the pantheon tasked Grandpapi Briny and Grandma Maeve with approving my requests.”
Asking permission to use her abilities is mortifying, so she has taken to stealing the Sacred Stone, the nautilus shell, and tapping into theseidrprivately. At least Briny rarely tells her no.
Except for tonight.
Calder shakes his head. “Halvguds existed long before your parents, Witch.”
“Witch?” She interrupts him. The word is foreign to her.
“Seidrwielder chosen by theNornwho can harness any power available on the continent. Eras ago, their task was to train mortals who received Sacred Stone abilities from the gods. ”
Aura chortles. “It has been a long day, Jarl Calder. I would rather not be teased.”
His expression remains unmoved. “Bestowing powers through Sacred Stones has been quite popular over the last several centuries. Gods believe they can carefully choose the ability and eliminate instances like the necromancer of Timber. But they are beholden to the Norn like the rest of us.”
A mountain of unspoken knowledge settles between them. Judging by his demeanor, he is unlikely to share more.
