“I’ll help!” Ivren shoved me out of the way as he took over to cover Darcke’s front.
“No, you won’t!” his mother screamed. “You will step away from him!”
“I will not,” Ivren replied simply as he fought off another attacker, sending him headfirstinto the waves. “Go, Elvara!”
I ran, but it was impossible to miss Ivren’s mother’s call. “You will die if you try to protect them. They are not your blood, Ivren! I am.”
“She is my friend!” Ivren shouted as two men circled him. “I did this to keep her alive! I refuse to believe Lika would have wanted this, and I will not taint his memory by not protecting his sister!”
My blood rushed in my ears as I sprinted, jumping over swords that came for my gut and slicing up a man’s back when he spun to try to take me down.
There was only one man still standing before the king and the shaman, and he was busy sparring with what must have been one of Adrion’s father’s men, judging from the rune he’d drawn on his cheek.
I felt every heartbeat in my throat as I slipped around them.
The shaman didn’t cower. I wasn’t sure if it was because he couldn’t or because he wouldn’t, but either way, I bent my head in respect as I raised my sword. He deserved that much, even though he’d leashed Darcke on the king’s behalf—had forced him into that gilded noose.
“It’s him or you,” I said softly. “And I love him. I’ve fallen in love with him.”
I heard the shaman’s voice from the night of the choosing in my mind.
An entanglement built on desire compromises the bond’s integrity, and it may confuse you when you’re at your most vulnerable.
“You were wrong. He doesn’t confuse me,” I said. “He makes mebetter. He makes mestronger, even when I have no strength running through my veins.”
The shaman’s lips twitched.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
My sword fell, and I watched as the shaman’s head rolled into the water, painting it as pink as the aurora in the sky above us. Hisbody crumpled to the ground with a thud that would forever echo in my mind, but relief flooded me.
Darcke was free.
The king laughed. An eerie, strange laugh that spilled over my skin like cold water.
Slowly, purposefully, I spun his way.
Remember who your enemy is.Blood dripped from my sword as I lifted it once more.
I cleared my throat when the king’s eyes found mine. “You might not ultimately be responsible for everything that’s happened, but you are responsible for lives lost. Ottoh died because you let karls come after us.Ialmost died because of the wars you should have stopped. You erased the people of the man I loved—my people. And you tied him to you, forcing him to do your bidding.” I sucked my teeth. “I might not agree much with my mother, but I do believe that you should die.”
I gripped the sword with both hands, waiting for one heartbeat.
Kingslayer, they’d call me.
But was that worse than the other names I’d earned at the Hird?
Something cold slid against my throat, a sharp blade resting against my collarbone. For a second I thought it was a joke. Because I could feel Darcke behind me—I could breathe in his intoxicating scent. Then I realized…
“Did it not work?” I asked, my muscles quivering in pain. “Did killing the shaman not work?”
His voice trickled over my skin like warm summer rain. “It did.”
My laugh came a second too late. “Great. Then you can put down your sword.”
His lips tickled my ear. “Not until you put down yours.”
Darcke’s touch didn’t send a thrill through me like it used to. I swallowed when the battle behind us died down, when theworld slowed as the king’s men, the heirs, the warriors, and even the chiefs turned our way.
