Chapter 24 Seren
Seren
A strangled gasp left me, the cold, lifeless eyes of a skinwraith flashing through my mind.
Above me, skeletal branches swayed in the dissipating storm, snow swirling through the air. I was on my back, on the ground, and I had no idea how I’d gotten here.
Darya leaned over me, Ciaran beside her.
I grasped my cheek, expecting to find blood there. Pain lanced through me, but my fingers came away clean.
Rykr.
I could feel him, sense him, as though he’d been right beside me. “Rykr, are you there?” I called out to him.
Nothing.
Both Ciaran and Darya were speaking, but I only heard a fierce ringing. My body was numb, strangely weak.
Ciaran lifted me and started forward. The rhythm of his hurried steps rocked me as I rested my head against his chest, shivering violently, unable to summon the energy to open my eyes again.
“Rykr.”
Still nothing. He’d either shut me out or was ignoring me.
Time blurred. The last thing I remembered was being on a horse. Was I thrown from it?
That didn’t explain why Ciaran was on foot.
Where had the horses gone?
Acrid smoke billowed in the air, stinging my nostrils, and I buried my face against Ciaran as he stopped abruptly.
Noise crashed back into me—wailing, tools clanging, voices shouting. Ciaran lowered me to the ground, and the familiar shape of my mother loomed over me as he bolted away.
I sat, still shaking, as Mother pressed a bottle to my lips—one of her bitter tonics that I knew better than to question. I swallowed, the medicine turning my stomach, but clarity rushed back to me. “What’s happened?”
“Skinwraith attack,” Mother whispered, her face pale.
Oh … no, no, no.
Anything but that.
She must have seen my panic. “Rykr encased the skinwraiths in a wall of ice, then turned it to mist. They’re gone, for now, but his powers didn’t go unnoticed.
Worse still, there’s already a rumor snaking its way around the camp that Giulia Bernardi was killed by—and turned into—a skinwraith.
That a blade of ice was found near her body. ”
Fuck.
The realization hit like a punch to my lungs. Ciaran.
He was the only one who knew besides my family.
Who else had he told?
I stumbled to my feet, searching for him. It didn’t take long—his size and red hair made him easy to spot as he was hunched over on the field.
“Seren, wait.”
I didn’t listen. As I strode toward Ciaran, anger surged through me, drowning out every other thought. I grabbed him by the collar, yanking him back. “You fucking son of a—”
His red-rimmed eyes, glassy with exhaustion, stopped me. His face was drawn, pale. Then I saw why.
Moira lay on a stretcher in front of him, deep gashes marring her arms and legs—one on her cheek. It would scar, but my mother could help her pain. I released him, fury momentarily checked.
“S-Seren,” he sputtered.
I ignored him, dropping to my knees beside Moira. Pain twisted her face. I cradled her cheek, my fingers smearing in blood. “Moira, are you okay?”
“It h-hurts.” Tears welled in her eyes. “But Rykr. He … saved me.”
My lips parted. Rykr? I’d been so busy focusing on my anger with Ciaran that I’d barely processed what my mother had said.
“Rykr encased the skinwraiths in a wall of ice, then turned it to mist. The skinwraiths are gone, for now, but his powers didn’t go unnoticed.”
He’d wielded ice?
A shiver rippled through me. What did that mean? He’d never mentioned having that power when I’d shown it to him.
Moira sniffled. “He saved all of us, really. There were so many. But he pulled one off me after he started wielding ice—it had me, Seren.” Tears slipped down her cheeks.
Ciaran shuffled in beside me, taking Moira’s hand. “All that matters is that you’re safe now.”
His voice reminded me of my anger and fears. “We need to talk. Alone.” I stood, glaring down at him. “Now.”
His face was incredulous. “Moira—”
Screw it. “There’s a rumor about Giulia’s death, that she was killed by a skinwraith.”
Ciaran froze, paling further. “I-I had nothing to do with that, I swear.”
Of course he’d deny it.
My throat constricted and I stepped away, feeling sick. How could he betray me like this?
Would he betray me like this?
He’d been so furious. So adamant that we needed to tell someone.
And he was the only one who knew outside of Tara and my mother. I couldn’t believe either of them would let that information slip.
Raging at him here wouldn’t get me the truth. Not with Moira bleeding on the ground.
I needed to find Rykr.
Without another word, I turned away. Despite his sister’s injuries, Ciaran sprang up, following me. “Seren, you have to believe me—”
“I don’t know if I do.” I gave him a sharp look over my shoulder. “You hate him. You want to see him gone. And your love for the tribe—telling them what happened—”
“But I didn’t!” Ciaran’s face flushed red.
“Godsdammit, Seren, I wish I had told them! Look at this forest! Look at the dead and injured, including my sister. I don’t know who is dead, but those things got to the encampment first. They attacked the most defenseless in our tribe.
If we’d said something, we could’ve been more prepared, but I didn’t.
And now I’m just as guilty as you are because I didn’t say a fucking word. ”
Acid burned in my throat.
I swallowed hard and shook my head, unsure of what to think or believe. “I have to go. I have to find Rykr.”
Ciaran reached for my hand, but I pulled it out of his grasp. “Seren, listen to me, I know you care about him but—”
“Not here. Not now.” My voice was frosty. Turning on my heel, I dashed forward. “Rykr!” Silence had settled into the bond between us. I had to find Rykr. Something was wrong.
My arms and legs ached with each step, a reminder of the last few nights training with him and the sparring ring this morning. The strange weakness I felt—as though something had been taken from me—wasn’t him, was it? That wasn’t how the bond worked. He died, I died … right?
The entire tone of the encampment had changed, and it was a whirlwind of movement as tents were broken down, wooden pikes sharpened and stacked, wounded cried in misery, survivors wailed in anguish.
The stark remains of tents smoldered from destruction that must have happened in the chaos of the attack.
This no longer looked like a village, but a smoking ghost town.
A tribe on the move.
How long had I been unconscious, and what had caused that? It seemed several hours had passed. How was that possible? Ciaran had carried me straight here, hadn’t he?
My mother appeared by my side once again, as though she’d been watching, waiting to talk to me. “Darling, listen to me,” she said, hurrying to keep up with me. “The tribe is restless and looking for someone to blame. They fear what they don’t know. Come with me. He needs you.”
I gave my mother a worried look. “Rykr?”
She nodded.
“You know where he is?”
She took my hand. “This way. Seth and Darya are guarding him.”
What in the gods’ name?
I rushed behind her, dread filling me. “Has something happened to him?”
“I tried to tell you … he used your powers, I think. But all the tribe saw was a powerful Lirien with magic that frightened them. The Vangar mobbed him in their fury. Seth fought them off, but Rykr was badly wounded. I think he did his best to keep you from the pain, but you were too lost to the intrusion on your soul to know.”
Oh shit.
My knees nearly gave out on me.
My heart pounded with a fierceness I didn’t understand as I ran behind my mother.
The Lirien who drove me crazy with his arrogance and charm. The man I’d fought to save, who’d saved me …
The thought of him wounded, in pain—gods. It was like a dagger to my gut.
The Vangar must have known they couldn’t take him one by one. The odds must have been stacked terribly against him if they’d gotten to him. “Did he hurt anyone?” That was all he needed to earn another sentence, especially with the rumor about Giulia.
“No. He surrendered. They struck him after.”
We arrived in the center of the tribe, where the agitated crowd was gathered. At the sight of Seth, I shoved my way through toward him.
Seth wasn’t alone. Darya knelt beside a crumpled, bloodied form on the ground—Rykr.
A choked breath left me, and I lunged forward. “What the fuck happened?”
One of the women in the crowd wailed, tears carving tracks down her cheeks. “My darling,” she cried. “My darling girl. They must be punished. Both of them!” She lifted accusing, red-rimmed eyes at me.
The din from the crowd swelled. “Punish them!”
“Execute them!”
I fell to my knees beside Darya, who met my eyes with a worried look. She squeezed my hand gently. “He’s still alive.”
“Rykr,” I murmured, touching his brow. His eyes were closed. He was unconscious, his body beaten, bloodied, and bruised.
“Burn them!”
“Enough!” Seth roared, sword in hand. “We are not a people who dispense justice in anger. Seren Ragnall and her husband may have flouted our laws before, but she’s been tried and given a punishment.
This is a new situation, and I don’t have to speak as a member of the council or your waldren.
What I say is truth. Rykr Westhaven saved our tribe today and you repaid him in blood—brought shame upon us all. ”
Darya flinched, her mouth pinching as she squeezed my hand.
Of all the people to help us, I never would have expected Seth. From the rage simmering in the crowd, it was clear Seth was all that stood between us and immediate execution.
But who in Nyxva had told them about Giulia?
My mother had pushed through the crowd by now, Tara and Amahle joining her. Tara’s sword was already in her hands, and she approached Seth and stood at his side.
“Justice!”
Darya rose to stand beside Seth. I slipped my hand into Rykr’s, noting the awkward bend of his fingers. Dammit. They’d broken them.
And his irons were gone. The lack of a Bloodbinding mark was so clear to me now … what if Darya saw it? I tugged his hand into my lap, shielding it.
Rykr didn’t need any more suspicion on him.
“Seren Ragnall and Rykr Westhaven have already been sentenced to the Skorn,” Darya said in a commanding voice. “If they are guilty of any other crimes, the gods will decide their fate.”
The crowd didn’t appear to waver, their clamoring growing louder.
Macklyn Bryce and his wife pushed their way through the throng. Macklyn stood beside Tara, throwing his arms out. “Rykr Westhaven saved my daughter and our tribe. He is no Lirien. He’s proven his loyalty. If any one of you wants to harm him any further, you’ll have to kill me first.”
Morgana Bryce joined him, her face set with the same fierce determination that I’d often seen in Ciaran’s.
A moment later, others followed. Members of the Vangar. Of the tribe. “He’s one of us,” Jabari Bankole shouted. “You will face us all to get to him.”
Stunned, I watched as more warriors closed ranks, standing shoulder to shoulder with those who shielded us. The mob, so loud before, suddenly seemed small.
The Viori who had been rising against Rykr began to back away, their voices faltering.
“We’ll leave tonight. All of us,” Seth announced. “The tribe will seek refuge in Emberstone, and we’ll transport both Seren and Westhaven under guard.” He glanced down at me, lowering his voice. “You’ll both be safer that way.”
I nodded and tore my gaze away, my guilt bleeding through every beat of my pulse.
I wished Rykr could see this. The Viori, my people, standing here on his behalf.
Accepting him as one of their own.
Pride rose inside me—but also deep shame.
This time, I deserved the punishment that Rykr’s attackers had wanted for me. My selfishness, my pride had destroyed so much.
My encampment was in ruins because I’d failed to protect my people. Because, as Ciaran had said, my loyalty had been to Rykr, rather than my tribe—including my friends and family. People who now stood for me. For him.
I’d spent days training for the Skorn, believing if I found clever tricks in books or mastered bold fighting techniques, I could prove my innocence—not only before my people, but before the gods.
I’ve been so … arrogant. Believing in my intellect and justified anger. But deep down, I knew the truth: guilt ruled me.
My baby sister is still missing.
What if I was to blame like the Viori believed?
Maybe I deserved punishment—and more.