Chapter 8
Rykr
The Viori were fucking savages.
As Seren stopped in front of the thick rectangular flogging post, head held high, I gritted my teeth.
The woman might have broken their laws, but she’d tried to be honorable. Even if it means a cage I don’t want.
Despite my limited mobility, I pulled my shirt back over my head. “I’ll take her punishment.” My voice was calm as I dragged the shirt to my wrists, leaving my torso bare once more. “Let me take her place.”
Seren whirled, her eyes wide. “No, don’t—”
Seth, still looming on the platform, scowled. “Tempting, but that would hardly serve justice.”
I held his gaze. “I don’t claim to know Viori law but in Lirien a man can take a woman’s beating. You can flog me yourself if you’d like.” Then in a voice only he could hear, I added, “Besides. We both know this isn’t about justice. Is it?”
The smug confidence in Seth’s face flickered.
I didn’t relish the thought of this man beating me, but Seren had saved my life. If Seth accepted my offer, my debt to her would be paid.
His dark eyes filled with temptation.
He wasn’t just considering my offer—he was calculating. Weighing something beyond the immediate scene. The cruel smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth didn’t reach his cold eyes. He wanted my blood spilled. This was his chance. A public display of dominance.
At last, he nodded. “I accept your offer.” His voice carried through the silent crowd.
With measured, unhurried precision, he unclasped the brooch of his cloak. He wanted me to feel every second before the first lash fell. His every movement was deliberate, designed to keep all eyes on him—on his authority.
He gripped my elbow, tighter than necessary, as he led me to the post, past Seren. Not a word passed between us, but I could sense the satisfaction rolling off him like a storm brewing on the horizon.
Seren’s whisper reached me, “You don’t have to do this—”
“It’s done. Stay out of it.”
For a heartbeat, Seren froze. Then she narrowed her eyes at me, her annoyance at my order clear. Her voice was louder as she said, “He had no right to offer himself.”
Seth stopped, half-turning toward her. “The law allows it, Seren. Are you questioning the old ways now?”
Her shoulders tensed. “The law doesn’t require a spectacle.” Her voice was laced with defiance. “He has nothing to do with this. He shouldn’t even be standing here.”
Seth’s smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of irritation. “You’d prefer we flog you, then?”
Seren’s lips pressed together. Her silence was answer enough.
“Exactly.” Seth turned back to me, his voice ringing out. “A man steps forward, and the law allows his sacrifice. You should be grateful, Seren. Your precious husband is saving you from dishonor.”
Her expression hardened at the word husband, but she said nothing.
Damn woman.
When I’d seen that vuk stalking us, my only thought had been to warn her. I’d needed to find Dalric and Thorne and get out of the fucking forest. But that had all become secondary when I’d seen her in danger.
Helpless women had caused me trouble too many times.
What type of fucking idiot was I?
The type who ends up exiled and Sealed for two years, apparently.
And now, one who’d be flogged by my enemies.
Seth didn’t remove the shirt hanging at my wrists as he lifted my bound hands to the post, tying them with a thick, rough rope that bit into my skin. A chill seeped into my bare back, the air thick with the scent of pine and earth.
My attention focused on the camp beyond me—a ramshackle collection of tents and wooden structures, arranged in a circle, with gathering space at its center.
Smoke curled into the air, mingling with the scents of animals and cooking food.
The Viori’s craftsmanship was evident in the intricate carvings on the wooden beams of the space, including the flogging post, etched with runes and symbols.
Despite the camp’s makeshift appearance, it was efficient, and easily broken down to be unoccupied and moved.
This was no haphazard village—it was the heart of a people who thrived on defiance and survival.
I braced myself as a guard provided Seth with a whip.
Seth uncoiled the whip. His gaze lingered on the Seal between my shoulder blades, resting there for a few beats. Then he stepped back, out of my sight line.
The whip sung through the air with a sharp snap.
An intense explosion of pain followed. Deep. Stinging. Nearly unbearable.
I forced my breath to stay even. The sting tore through me, unforgiving, but I made no sound.
Pain was familiar. Manageable.
I could handle it.
But when I heard the sharp gasp from behind me, my focus wavered. I turned my head just enough to catch Seren’s expression—wide-eyed, pale, as though the strike had landed on her instead. She swayed on her feet as an older woman rushed to her side and gripped her arm.
The whip cracked again, slicing deeper.
Seren collapsed, barely catching herself. The woman braced her, whispering into Seren’s ear.
I hadn’t expected feigned grief from her, but I had to admit—she was a damned talented actress. Playing the role of tortured lover was a convincing touch.
My forehead rested against the rough surface of the flogging post, and I willed myself into silence as strike followed strike. With each blow, my ability to stand straight decreased. Warm blood ran down my arms and legs, soaking my trousers, pooling on the pine needles beneath my boots.
I closed my eyes, trying to drown out the sounds of the forest, the sickening, muffled crunch of leather destroying my flesh, the scent of my blood and sweat, and evergreen trees carried in the wind, the sweet smell of bread baking somewhere on a hearth.
Life, carrying on amid my torment.
Seren vomited with the last strike.
Unceremoniously, the guards cut the rope from my wrists, and I collapsed into my own blood, breath ragged. The blinding pain made it nearly impossible to think as I shook uncontrollably.
He can’t defeat me. I won’t allow him to win.
Maybe it was a sheer act of will—I wasn’t sure—but a cool, strange numbness seemed to pass over my wounds, dulling my pain. Enough to make it tolerable. I forced a slow breath, then wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and drew one knee up, bracing my arms against it.
The defiant act drew gasps. By all rights, I shouldn’t even attempt to be standing.
Seth towered over me, his face splattered with blood. “You’ll go to Emberstone in ten days, Lirien—injured or not. And when you do, you may want to come up with a better excuse for being in our forest than hunting vuks. Because we all know you’re lying. And you have no proof of your claims.”
“He may not, but I do.”
A wave of commotion started from the back of the gathering space, where a woman stood.
Dressed like the Viori women I’d fought during raids before, she wore leather from head to toe, her dark hair short and closely cropped, save for a longer section that framed her face. A row of silver hoops looped around her ears.
A foul stench filled the air. An ox and cart was behind her, several paces back. Piled atop the cart lay the carcass of the vuk, my sword still poking from it.
The reek of rot reached the council, sending several members reeling back, covering their noses with their sleeves. Others in the crowd mirrored them, muttering in disgust. The woman strode toward Seren.
“I would have been here sooner,” she said with a grim smile. “But the fucking cart broke down four times, and I had to fix it. Lost a whole day on that. And getting that thing onto the cart? Nearly impossible. But it was right where you said it would be. Are you hurt? What the hell happened?”
Seren struggled to her feet, pale-faced, and then she hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re here, Tara.”
Seth brushed past me, hurrying toward the vuk. He reached it, then grabbed the hilt of my sword, and yanked it free. The putrid flesh squelched as it sank back. Black blood dripped from the blade.
I staggered to my feet. “That’s my sword.”
“Not anymore.” Seth glared at Seren. “This council meeting is over. Collect your husband, Seren. You’re free to leave your tent, but we’ll be watching. Any attempt to escape will be met with swift justice.”
Husband.
What the fuck did that mean for me now?
The crowd began to disperse, but not before I caught several curious glances thrown our way. Seren remained rooted in place for another moment, hands trembling at her sides, then she hurried toward me.
I forced myself to remain upright, biting back a groan. My hands clenched into tight fists, but the numbing on my back continued to spread. Or maybe I was in shock. Either way, the blood loss was making me lightheaded.
“How are you standing?” she asked, a mix of fear and awe in her eyes.
Any attempt at wit died on my tongue. Truth was, I didn’t entirely know.
Something about this numbness felt like magic. An unfamiliar sorcery.
“You didn’t have to do this.” Her voice was a whisper but the tension in her tone was unmistakable.
“I did.” My reply was equally quiet, but final.
Any debts between us were paid. We might share a bond, but nothing more—and one way or another, I would escape from this prison.
With my fucking sword.