“Not to me,” Darcke replied. “Ifyouare destined for Hel? Then there is no Valhalla to be found.”
“You don’t know everything about me. You don’t know what I’ve done.” I tried to look away, but when his mouth curled into a devastating grin, my eyes followed each swerve of his full lips. “You don’t know what goes on in my mind.”
“You’ve seen too little of the world if you think whatever you imagine you’ve done makes you undeserving.” Darcke gently clasped the hand that still felt sticky from blood and pulled me back from the edge. “You are far too hard on yourself, and far too kind to others. Myself included.”
“You’re not so b?—”
I didn’t have time to finish before the familiar sound of an arrow whistling through the air reached my ears.
“Ambush!” I screamed as I felt the sharp point graze my cheek.
“Fuck.” Ottoh moved faster than I’d ever seen him, slamminghis sister’s back against the trunk of the tree and placing himself before her, hands out like he planned to catch the arrows in the air.
“Get the fuck down,” Darcke roared when more arrows followed, their thuds biting into the bark of the golden oaks and snapping all of us out of our frozen state.
Another one nicked my shoulder, and I stood rooted when four men crested the darkness. One took charge, throwing a dagger aimed at Darcke’s unprotected back.
I didn’t think; I only reacted with the instincts Viljan had honed over the years.
I threw myself at the warrior to try to get him onto the ground. He cursed before striking me midair, sending me sprawling against a tree.
There was a sickening wet sound as the dagger found its target, and I whipped my head up to find Darcke with his back against me, the dagger lodged in his shoulder and blood gushing down his dark leathers.
That didn’t stop him from snarling and stalking toward the four men like a wildling.
“A’lian,” Ottoh screamed. “Run!”
“I. Don’t. Run,” the warrior growled.
In another situation I would have laughed. Darcke was violently insulted that these foreigners had managed to draw blood, and that made him hunger for theirs so fiercely that my hands reached for the sword that no longer rested across my back.
“He’s fucking crazy,” Ottoh hissed. “He’s unarmed. You better catch up with him, because that’s your life at stake.”
That realization had just dawned on me as well.
“Stop,” I screamed, trying to tug at the bond—trying to get him to remember that this wasn’t only about him. But Darcke only continued forward.
That’s when I noticed the fifth man hiding behind a tree.
“No!” I cried as the man sent another dagger straight toward Darcke’s heart.
He felt my dread, and at the last moment Darcke spun my way.
The dagger struck him in his side. There was a spark of surprise in Darcke’s eyes as his hand pressed against his gut. I huffed when white-hot pain shot through me, making me stumble over a root as I sprinted toward my second.
The man who’d cast the knife jumped out from the tree’s shadow, making a rush for Darcke as he fell to his knees. I grabbed for whatever I could on the ground, finding a rock that fit well enough in my palm, and threw it with everything in me. It bounced off the man’s temple with a crack, and as he tumbled backward, I felt a presence to my side.
I got another rock into my hand, and I was about to throw it as well when Ivren’s blue eyes widened. “Woah.” His hands flew into the air. “On your side.”
Viljan came up behind him, and as another arrow cut right over my old guard’s scalp, I screamed, “Over there.”
They reacted instantly. Viljan took the lead, using the trees to avoid the arrows raining through the air as he breached the distance between us and the men.
Ivren followed, picking up rocks and branches on his way. I decided to trust them to handle it as Darcke tumbled to the ground.
With my heart in my throat, I fell to the forest bed beside him.
“Remove one in the back,” he gritted.
