She smashes the ice with the butt of her axe and lunges at Isabel, tackling her to the ground.
“Briny!” Aura screams as she abandons her weapons so she can punch every bit of the traitorous bitch that she can get her hands on. “Let me berserk!”
Instantly, her gaze flashes with a familiar crimson tint, signaling that permission has been granted by her grandpapi.
If only she could access the range of powers on the continent without asking for permission!
Her furious fists strike any part of her ex-lover she can reach. In the distance, shocked cries erupt from the crowd.
A pair of rough hands grips her upper arms, lifting her away, much to her annoyance.
“Unhand me!” she shrieks, flailing at the one who dares to interfere with her vengeance.
Calder remains stoic as he freezes Aura’s boots to the ground. He turns back to the Manchineel, and ice shackles encircle her wrists.
Isabel screams as the frost bites into her bare skin.
“You are finished.” Calder grips her fair locks and drags her toward the approaching Toftlund guards.
“This isn’t over, Iss Drengr,” she snarls as they pass Aura. “I know what you are!”
He throws her to the soldiers, who clamp iron manacles on her wrists and ankles before Calder agrees to remove hisseidr.
When he turns back to the Princess, his gaze is unreadable.
He releases her feet and places his hand on her lower back, guiding her through the crowd.
“She was the woman who hurt you.” He is not asking.
The berserker blood still courses through her veins, making it difficult for her to calm down. “If you hadn't interfered, I could have finished the Death Match!”
He nods, leading her away from the main square towards a patch of grass beneath a vast tree that towers over the surrounding buildings. He raises his hands and gestures. “Burn off the berserker.”
She doesn’t take a moment to consider his request and throws punch after punch into his waiting palms. She continues until her arms burn with exhaustion and the crimson dissipates.
“Your Drengr Trial has ended.” His words flow smoothly through her grunts and pants of exertion. “Killing the Kilton woman will not erase your failure.”
Aura shakes her head. “You don’t understand!”
“I understand perfectly well. You sought to prove yourself to Thora and Sigvid and earn your place. You cannot change the Trial.”
No! It is time to tear Isabel apart and make her pay for ruining my life.
This vengeance is as much about Isabel's destruction of her chances to become a Drengr as it is about her present and future. And yes, she was lying about them overruling the decision. A small part of her heart hopes to awaken to a new day with a medal around her neck.
Instead of blocking, Calder catches her fists in his hands and pulls her close to his tense but comforting chest. The scents of leather and wood waft off him, and dammit, she inhales deeply, unintentionally calming herself.
“Your anger is justified, Princess. Defending that little girl on the street was justified. But you must learn to control yourself, or you permit Isabel’s actions to haunt you indefinitely.”
“Speaking from experience?”
Calder grumps, releasing her hands. “Princess, I have seen you perched all over Blackwood with a notebook and quill, sketching all kinds of birds and people.” He tilts her head with one finger to look up at him. “I know you spend hours devouring every book you can get your hands on. And I know you have a fire in your belly.”
“You noticed all of that?”
“I notice everything you do.”
She lowers her arms, realizing she is still holding them up to attack.
