My head snaps to Odgar, and the weight of his hand on my shoulder slowly registers in my awareness. I step back, air rushing into my lungs as if I’d forgotten how to breathe for a moment. Deep lines carve between Odgar’s brows, his chest deflating gently with a sigh. He clenches his fists at his side but they release a moment later.
“Did you happen to hear anything I asked?” His tone is gentle.
I shake my head, ignoring the sting of tears filling my eyes.
His hands clench again, his throat bobbing. His lips part, then close, only for him to ask, “Do you trust me?”
I get the feeling that he said a lot more than that. I shake my head down at the forest floor. “Odgar, I don’t trust anyone.”
He doesn’t argue, but after a few beats of silence he says, “As a royal, it is expected that I have children. Freyr may be king, but he will never father an heir of his own.”
I look up, staring at his leather vest over his grey tunic instead of at his face. “Why not?”
“Freyr has no desire to ever lie with a woman. So, the continuation of the family line may come down to Valdis and Seth, and … us.”
I scoff, disbelieving laughter slipping past my lips.
“But—” He holds up his large hands and places them lightly on my shoulders. I resist the urge to shrug them off. “There is Valdis. So, if you are truly adamant about never having children, then alright … but can you at least tell me why?”
I turn away and fold my arms over my chest, feigning defiance when all I feel is uneasiness and shame.
“I cannot force you to trust me,” Odgar says. “But lend me your ears for a moment, will you?”
Lips pressed firmly together, I cast him a hard glare.
“From the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt drawn to you. I immediately wanted to learn what made you laugh, what made you cry, what made your heart skip a beat. The dance that we shared … I thought I felt a connection. Then there was that spark in your eyes.” He tilts his head slightly, sadness drifting into his gaze. “There is nothing about this betrothal that is superficial to me. I would gladly spend a lifetime figuring out what will bring that spark back to your eyes. This marriage may be a political thing, but I truly do care about you.”
His words chisel into the thick ice encasing my heart. I press my hand to the vacant spot on my chest, and the image of Eefa yanking my amulet off my neck hits me. I step back, my breath shuddering, leaving small clouds in the air.
Odgar frowns, but he doesn’t speak up.
I breathe out and close my eyes. “The Seer said that I’m the beginning of the end and the end of the beginning. That I’m chaos.” I dare to look at him again. “How can you care for someone destined for disaster?”
He blinks for a moment as though he needs to process everything that I’ve said. Then a soft smile lifts his lips. “I quite enjoy chaos.”
I turn away. He wouldn’t say that if he truly knew … My muscles are too tense, making my extremities feel numb and weak, so I shake my arms out and sigh. “I’m going to pay my respects to your gods.” I don’t give him a chance to respond before I walk off, convincing my legs to keep moving despite the tremors in my body.
I burst through the trees and back into the Hallowed Wood, where it’s even more crowded than before. Still, it’s relatively quiet, murmurs and whispers floating across the space. Tears cloud my eyes, but I head straight to the Mother goddess.
Many are there praying for their wombs to be opened—for more children.
Me, I face the goddess Amodir—a winged crown atop her flowing hair, a staff in hand. She looks more like a warrior than a mother.
With all my heart and soul, I look upon the stony statue and silently pray for my womb to be closed. Forever.
Chapter 18
A gasp snagsin my throat as my dream falls away and the dark room materializes around me again. For once, my heart isn’t racing; I sense no danger, but an unfamiliar presence lingers in my mind. One as shattered as Carys’s aura—filled with thunderous defiance and brittle submission. Not just shattered, but something I cannot quite put my finger on. It nudges my curiosity.
At first there was only Carys in the dream, but somehow, I couldn’t interact with her. But Icouldinteract with Winnie. Something was off about her, like a dropped stitch in a knitted scarf—barely noticeable unless closely scrutinized.
Until now, I’ve never been able to connect with someone other than Carys and Tiernan in a dreamscape.
Or maybe it was a dream with no magic at play. I once had regular dreams, didn’t I? It’s hard to remember.
With a steadying breath, I peer at Taig sprawled out on his back, limbs outstretched, mouth gaping wide. Tiernan’s the opposite, collected even in his sleep, his hand tucked under his head as he lies on his side. I curl up on my side as well, trying to get comfortable. As much as thinkingit wasjust a dreamwould make things simpler, it’s never simple.
I’m not sure what to make of it, but I have other things to worry about. Like the news that I’m the daughter of Dayfyd O’Hara and the late Queen Morwenna. Ava is my half sister. As is Carys. As impossible as this seems, my uncanny connection to Carys suddenly makes sense. It’s why, even with great distance between us, our dreams are still easily interconnected. We share some of the same blood, some of the same magic.
