Drogan shot to his feet, mouth twisted. “The daughter should have been expelled from Solvantis with the rest of the traitor’s property. My brother’s blood fed her and clothed her while she lived in her father’s house. She owes us all blood in return, don’t you think?”
Rikard breathed deep, caging the impulse to lunge at Drogan across the fire. “Come hunting with me,” he urged instead. “I saw a stag bedded down at the bottom of a ravine to the east on my way in.”
Hope rose in Drogan’s expression. The invitation carried the weight of the past, old friends hunting in the dark. They’d hunted together since they were fledglings. Before the war, before Valric died, before Drogan’s hatred had eaten away his heart.
“Now?” Drogan asked. “We can wait for Lucan if you like. He’ll be back as soon as he wets his cock.”
“Just the two of us.”
Drogan set the blade down. His wings opened, wide and powerful, the firelight playing across the membranes. “Can you keep up on foot?”
“I’ll meet you there.”
They moved east through the forest, Drogan flying above the dense lattice of black branches and Rikard walking below until they reached the edge of the ravine.
Ahead of him, Drogan dove down and landed at the bottom of the ravine. While he waited for Rikard to climb down, he leaned forward to scent the air for the stag that didn’t exist.
He should have looked behind him.
Rikard stepped off the edge. The ground dropped away and he glided silently down to join Drogan. He covered the distance between them in two steps. His hand closed around the base of Drogan’s left horn and wrenched his head back, his other arm locking around his throat, just as he’d done to countless goblins in the war.
Drogan thrashed. Stronger than Rikard, his broad body bucked against the hold. But Rikard had leverage and the benefit of surprise, not to mention the vivid clarity about exactly what was happening.
“I know what you did to my wife,” he said quietly into Drogan’s ear. “This is for her.”
Drogan went rigid with understanding one second before Rikard snapped his neck. His body went slack, and Rikard lowered him to the soft, leaf-littered ground.
His hands were steady. His heart was steady. He’d delivered justice, merciful and swift. His friend was dead, but his friend had died a long time ago.
He spread his new wings and left the ravine as quickly and quietly as possible. He rose above the treeline and then the clouds, turning south toward Solvantis where his wife was sleeping.
Chapter 29
Hannalinde
She couldn’t sleep, so she stitched. The contractions were strong enough that she had to stop her stitching to get through them.
These weren’t the practice pains that had been tightening her belly for weeks. They were a deep, rolling pressure that started in her spine and wrapped around to the front. It felt like she was being squeezed by a fist.
Another one arrived. She set her embroidery down and gripped the edge of the worktable, breathing the way Aalis hadtaught her, slow and measured, until the fist loosened its grip. She picked up her needle again.
Another interrupted her work only ten or fifteen minutes later. Then another.
“I think we should call for Aalis,” she said to Carlijn when it was clear they were coming more often.
Carlijn closed her book, seeming to notice for the first time that Hannalinde was gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles. “Now?”
“Now.”
Carlijn jumped into action, ringlets bobbing as she summoned maids and message boys. Hanna was bustled into the bedroom and dressed in a clean shift, missives were sent to the Tower to let Aalis and Rikard know that the child was coming.
Then, while water was boiled and linens were laid out, she combed and plaited Hanna’s hair. She distracted her with funny conversation between contractions. And when a brutal one bent her in half, Carlijn rubbed her back until it passed.
Hanna straightened, shooting her friend a grateful look. “I’ll do this for you when it’s your turn.”
But then she noticed something strange. The ever-present pressure at the base of her skull was gone. The oily darkness of the mate bond wasn’t dulled down or quiet, it was completely absent.
She held very still, probing the empty space cautiously in her mind. She braced, expecting him to lash back, to fill her skull with fire. But he simply wasn’t there. Her knees buckled.
