Chapter 30
Rykr
From the look on Ciaran’s face as I tested the weight of the blade in my hand, he hated that Seren had insisted on arming me.
Not that I trusted him, either.
The swordsmith in front of me either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care about the Seal on my neck, though the Vangar leathers did a decent job of hiding it.
The new clothing was comfortable and well fitted but I couldn’t dislodge the contemptible feeling of being a traitor in the clothes of my enemy. My brothers would be ashamed.
Bracing his weight onto his hands, the swordsmith gave me a bored look. “Well?”
My fingers tightened around the grip. Truth was, I’d never purchased my own sword before. My father had always outfitted me with the best Volker steel—preselected from the finest craftsmen—in addition to my own heirloom blade, which Seth still held.
Would Seth give it back now that his hostility had cooled? He’d even shown me a semblance of trust since the skinwraith attack.
“Usually, I know if I like a blade once I’m using it.” I avoided the swordsmith’s gaze.
Ciaran’s sigh was loud.
The swordsmith grunted. “If you don’t know what you’re looking for, you’re wasting my time.” He shoved his way through the side door of the forge, muttering about customers who didn’t know steel from tin.
Ciaran pinched the bridge of his nose, then held out his hand. “Here. Let me take a look.”
I raised a brow. He really thought he knew these weapons better than I did? But it was stifling in here and I doubted he wanted to waste any more time with me.
I handed him the sword, and he stepped back, studying the blade in the golden glow of the forge. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he slipped the guard onto his forearm, testing the blade against the palm of his hand. He frowned, then met my eyes. “The man’s a crook.”
Before I could ask what he meant, the door swung open again, and the swordsmith returned.
Ciaran didn’t hesitate. “You called this Volker steel?”
“It is.” The swordsmith sniffed, swiping a greasy hand across his face.
Ciaran didn’t argue. He simply gripped the blade in both hands and bent it. The clean snap echoed in the forge.
Solric’s name … how?
The swordsmith’s eyes narrowed with liquid fury. “Hey! You’ll have to pay for that.”
“We won’t be paying for anything but Volker steel.
” Ciaran took a challenging step toward him.
“I can’t snap Volker steel once it’s been forged, which means you were lying and trying to sell us a piece of junk.
Now, if you don’t want the whole city to hear about it, I suggest you fetch a real sword before I decide to test how many other blades in here are just as worthless. ”
Whether because of Ciaran’s size or the fact that he’d been caught, the swordsmith blanched, then took a nervous step back.
Within minutes, we were on our way out of the shop, a new sword at my side.
“Thank you.” I studied Ciaran’s determined, serious profile as we waded through the crowded streets of the trade district. “But how in the fuck—”
“It’s the power I was born with. And I didn’t do it for you. I did it because Seren doesn’t deserve to waste her money on a fake sword.”
I rubbed the scruff of my jaw, his words having the intended, humiliating effect. A reminder of how much I owed Seren. How pathetic my existence here was.
Still, I stopped walking and turned to face him, meeting him head-on. A man like Ciaran wouldn’t respond to anything less that blunt honesty.
“You might think this is about me, but I’m not thrilled about my wife’s relationship with you, either. You couldn’t keep your hands off her during that little chat in the forest.”
Ciaran’s lips curled. “Your wife?” He shook his head. “That’s laughable and you know it. Seren is no more your wife than I’m a Lirien. But fine. You want honesty? Let’s be honest. I don’t trust you. I don’t like you. And I don’t believe a damn thing you say.
His voice dropped, rough with anger. “But more than that? I don’t believe you deserve her. She’s given up everything for you, and the only reason I tolerate you is because she says if anything happens to you, she’ll be hurt—or worse. I’ll protect her, even from her own bad decisions.”
A muscle in my jaw twitched. He hadn’t told me a single thing I didn’t already know. But I latched on to what he hadn’t said, instead. “Sounds like you don’t quite believe in her, either.”
Ciaran’s face reddened. “I believe in her.”
“Enough to not want to risk her life, but not enough to accept that I’m her husband by law and by oath.”
Ciaran’s lips parted and a stupefied expression crossed the ox’s eyes. “You’re—”
“The better warrior?” I smirked. “Smarter than you? Sharing the bed of the woman you love?” I let the words land, watching as his hands clenched. “Or all of the above?”
Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned and walked away. I already knew the way back to the Bellwether.
The words I’d thrown at him had been reckless, and there was no satisfaction in them. Seren’s warning to me rang in my head. “… hurting my friends will never gain you my respect or trust.”
So why had I let Ciaran get to me?
I was leaving.
She wasn’t my wife.
But somehow, she still felt like she was mine. The thought of Ciaran—or any other man—touching her, lusting after her made my blood churn, raw and possessive. Maybe I couldn’t have her, but I sure as hell didn’t want anyone else to, either.
Ciaran didn’t share what I shared with her. She was a part of me, inextricable from my mind. My breathing. My every heartbeat.
What in the fuck was I going to do without her?
Apparently, Ciaran wasn’t done fighting. He stormed up beside me, then grabbed a fistful of my shirt below my throat. As we squared off, my body readying for a spar, a strange, feral energy kicked through me, inviting the surge of adrenaline that twisted through my veins.
“Try it,” I said in a hard voice. “Let’s see how far you get, Ciaran. I haven’t had a good challenge in a year.”
The street around us slowed. People hesitated, watching.
A fight would put Haldron’s eyes on us.
Against every desire curling through me, the more rational part of my brain took over.
“Of course,” I added, “Seren felt every blow as Seth flogged me. Lucia dulled the effects, but she’s not here, is she?
There’s a chance if you punch me—she will feel it, too.
” He didn’t need to know I could control that now.
Slowly, Ciaran’s fingers uncurled, his chest rising and falling with struggled breaths.
“You’re a bastard.” He lowered his hands and stepped closer.
“I know you’re not Bloodbound, Rykr. And the skinwraiths …
there’s something you’re hiding—who you are or what you’re doing here.
But I swear to the gods, if you betray Seren, I will find a way to hurt you.
No, I’m not as smart as you. I’m not Sealed, but I’m loyal, and I was trained to kill my enemies. ”
Ah. Now I understood why Seren had questioned my missing Bloodbinding mark. Ciaran had planted that seed in her brain.
“You’re looking too hard for a reason to hate me, Ciaran. Some of us just carry our secrets closer to the chest. You wear yours out in the open and she still picked me.”
Ciaran’s eyes flashed. “She’s the only reason you’re still alive.
I know your type. You use people like stepping stones, then watch them drown from the other side of the river.
Your honor? Skin-deep. But this time, you picked someone smarter than you.
More capable than you give her credit for.
She’ll see you for who you really are—hopefully before you betray her and it’s too late. ”
“I’m not going to betray Seren.” Not that I could if I wanted to.
But I didn’t want to.
Nyxva.
I cared about the woman.
Something cracked in Ciaran’s fierce expression and regret panged through me. He loved her and she probably deserved a man like him—from her people, who could give her a life here. Be a real husband.
By taking that oath, she’d hadn’t just isolated herself from her tribe, she’d cut off any chance for a future with them.
Even if we broke the bond … what would happen to her if I went back to Lirien, like I needed to do?
I wanted to delude myself into believing that she wouldn’t be held responsible, but I’d seen enough of Viori justice—and I knew Haldron.
If I claimed my throne, what would he do to Seren? To her family?
I didn’t have long to dwell on it. Ciaran shifted, his face turning like stone. “Son of a bitch.” He studied the cobblestones beneath our feet as though they suddenly fascinated him.
Every muscle in my body tensed. “What is it?”
“We’re being followed.”
Not this again.
It didn’t surprise me, though. I’d known from the second I’d stepped into that throne room that Haldron would be keeping a close eye on Seren and me—if we made it out of there alive.
“Male or female?” I asked.
“Male.”
“If he’s after me, we should split up. Any place around here we can lead him into a trap?”
Ciaran blinked at me, as if surprised I’d suggest working with him—and use myself as bait.
He nodded after a moment. “Three streets down, make a right, then go straight toward the keep’s wall.
Wards at the top stop intruders, so he won’t be able to climb.
Before you get there, there’s an alley to the left, then take a sharp right straight toward a dead end. ”
“Metal bending and a good sense of direction. You might be a better warrior than I gave you credit for.”
I didn’t wait for a reaction before starting off. Whoever was following me might not be alone, but I had the advantage. I was trained for this.
A thrill shot through me as I moved. I’d never been addicted to danger before, but something about this felt like a hunt—a restless, prowling need for prey rattling through me.
But it grated that Ciaran had noticed our tail before I had.