Through slitted eyes, I watch her pull on her robe. The fabric whispers against her skin as she ties it closed. My wife is not heading toward the bathing chamber or the kitchen. She's moving toward the entrance.
The door opens with barely a whisper of sound. Cold air floods in, carrying the scent of fresh snow and pine. She steps out into the predawn darkness without looking back.
Where is she going?
Give her space,I tell myself. But every instinct screams at me to protect and keep her close.
I pull on my breeches and count to ten before following.
7
Chapter 6 Svenn
The snow falls thick and heavy outside, turning the world into a blur of white. Rhianelle's footprints are already filling in. I don't need tracks to find her. I could find her in perfect darkness, in any storm. Her heartbeat calls to me like a beacon.
She stands in a clearing just beyond the cottage with her face tilted to the sky. Snow catches in her hair and on her eyelashes.
A smile curves her delicate lips.
But it's sad, that smile.
"Rhianelle?"
She doesn't startle.
"I'm sorry," she says softly.
The attack comes from nowhere.
Shadow chains erupt from the snow-covered ground, wrapping around my ankles, wrists, and throat. The Rhunhraefn binds me with familiar cruelty. Dark tendrils burn like ice against my skin. I'm dragged to my knees, forced down into the snow.
This is it, then.
The Rhunhraefn has always been hungry for control. It finally got to her. Perhaps it showed her visions of what I couldbecome and convinced her. The thought comes with surprising calm.
I've accepted it, haven't I?
That should Rhianelle one day be consumed by the Rhunhraefn and the curse take her completely, I would still serve her faithfully. If she decides that I'm a threat that needs to be eliminated, I would let her do what must be done.
I won't fight her.
The chains tighten, cutting off my air. My vision starts to darken at the edges. I keep my eyes on her, memorizing the way snow clings to her silver hair.
If this is the last thing I see, at least it's beautiful.
Then the chains shatter.
The shadow bindings that have held me for thousands of years dissolve into nothing, fragments of darkness scattering on the wind. I'm left gasping in the snow, free air rushing into my lungs.
Free.
The word doesn't make sense. Lilith designed the Rhunhraefn to be eternal and unbreakable, a curse that would bind its victims until the end of time itself.
And yet.
I stare at my wrists where the chains were moments ago.
Nothing. There's not even a mark. The weight that has pressed against my mind for millennia, the invisible leash that jerked me to heel at my mistress's whim is gone. Severed.
