3. Chapter 3
Gunnar
I could not bring myself to stay for supper with my family and Arlo. I thought I could until I’d opened the door and seen them holding hands. I’d wanted to tackle my brother to the ground and make him regret putting his hands on my mate.
But Arlo isn’t mine. Will never be mine. Nor do I want him to be.
Still. It would take a stronger man than I ever could be to watch the man I was destined to be with choose my own damn brother over me.
But why shouldn’t he? Lyall is kind, fiercely loyal, and devoted to those he loves.
Which is why Lyall’s actions make no sense at all.
Ever since we exiled Soren, Lyall has never so much as looked at another person with interest. Soren may have betrayed us, but he and my brother were still mated. Could Lyall have truly moved on? Mayhap, but there’s a voice inside me that snarls a warning.
Something is not right.
As the days pass and my family sees less and less of Lyall, my suspicions grow fangs and claws. He’s hiding something, just as I feared from the start.
There is only one way to find out what, and it could cost me everything. If I’m right, and I fear I am, then knowing and doing nothing could cost me my brother. I’ve already lost so much. I will not lose him, too.
In the dark of night, I enter the longhouse as quietly as I can.
Kieran keeps a branch of Yggdrasil in their home.
The branch of the World Tree connects all nine realms, and my family uses it to travel across time to visit friends in the future.
Shame curdles in my stomach as I leave the house with the branch in hand.
Only cravens sneak around like thieves, but I will return it as soon as I can.
Even Odin used deceit in the pursuit of knowledge, power, and the means to protect his kin.
I leave the village behind and head for the beach where our boats are moored. I drag a rowboat out into the water and take up the oars. The waves carry me out to sea. The branch of Yggdrasil is smooth in my hand. I run my thumb over the rune for home, carved into the center of the branch.
Home can mean many things, but to me, it means pack and brotherhood.
Squeezing the branch, I close my eyes and think of Lyall.
His smile is the first thing that comes to mind, bright as sunshine on a clear day.
He always made me laugh with his antics when we were children.
He’d challenge us to lick icicles and keep our tongues there until it started to burn or to breath-holding competitions when we went swimming.
My throat thickens.
Gods, if anything has happened to him—
There’s a flash of light behind my closed eyes.
Ahead of me, a shimmering portal yawns wide over the water.
I row until my shoulders burn and the light obscures my vision.
There’s a horrible lurching sensation, like I’m falling.
Water splashes around me. I open my eyes and find myself somewhere unrecognizable.
I’ve landed in a vast lake in the middle of the woods.
It’s dark, but lights hover on the shore, glowing like no torches I’ve seen before.
There are all sorts of different sounds some distance away.
Barking like dogs. People talking, their words jumbled together in a language I don’t know.
The wind blows, and a scent hits me.
Lyall.
On the shore, two figures huddle on a bench, locked in a tight embrace. One of them is Lyall; I know him by scent. Then the other must be… Arlo? My heart sinks. The torchlight over the bench flickers on. The man holding my brother has his face in Lyall’s shoulder. His hair is a fiery red.
There’s only one man I’ve known with hair of such a vibrant hue.
One man my brother would sneak off to meet and hold so tenderly under the cover of darkness.
Soren.
All this time, Lyall has been meeting with the traitor who brought hunters to our shores. How can he sit there and embrace the man responsible for our father’s murder?
Because of him, Bjorn and Leif—
Claws bite into my palms. Blood drips hot and wet between my fingers. My fur cloak writhes, devouring my flesh.
How could he?
How dare he?
It’s not enough Soren took away Father, Leif, Bjorn, and so many others.
Now, he conspires to take my brother from us.
No.
Never again.
Water splashes around my ankles, churning and cold.
Lyall’s on his feet, hands up, face pale. “Please. I can explain.”
No, there will be no talking.
“You lied.” The words tear from my throat. “All this time, you fucking lied!”
He lied. He sat there and lied to our faces like a bloody craven, all so he could sneak around with the man who conspired to murder our father.
“Lyall, let’s go!” Soren grabs my brother’s shoulder but Lyall won’t move.
“Gunnar. Please. Sit down, we can talk about this. There’s so much you don’t know. Just listen—”
I know enough.
“You’ve been meeting with this traitor, all this time!” My roar sends birds flying from the trees. I want to snatch them out of the air, crunch their bones, break their little bodies in my teeth.
“It’s not like that!”
My shoes split around clawed feet. Linen tears across my chest.
How could he do this to me?
“He killed Leif. T-took my little Bjorn from me.” Oh gods, it hurts. My chest has been struck by a war hammer of pain, caving me in, breaking me open. Rage spills out, coloring my vision red.
“He was just a baby. Because of him, my family is gone!”
The berserker roars within my soul, and I charge.
Blood fills my mouth. Screams tear into my ears. Bone crunches.
Everything fades, leaving nothing but the taste of blood.
I open my eyes and know at once that something is very wrong. I lurch up from the cot I was lying on. Iron bars enclose me in a cell.
Where am I? How did I get here?
Furious snarling nearby turns my blood to ice. I approach the bars, grip onto the metal, and pull as hard as I can. They won’t budge, and it’s then I realize that my furs are gone.
Panic threatens to choke me. How can I shift to defend myself if my furs have been taken?
In the cell opposite me, a gigantic bipedal wolf paces in a circle, ears flat, hackles raised. A berserker, lost to her beast. Still, I hope I can reach her. I need answers.
“Greetings, sister wolf! Where are we?” I hope she’ll shift back and talk to me.
Instead, she hurls herself at the bars, biting and tugging at them.
My heart sinks. She’s too far gone.
In response to her war with the iron bars, furious barking, snarling, and a hideous roar pierce my ears. There’s more of them in here. Wherever we are, it was made to hold ulfhednar who have gone berserk.
Try as I might, I can’t recall how I ended up here. Last I remember, I was at home with my family. Bits and pieces come back to me. Opening a portal using my branch of Yggdrasil. Arriving in Jamie’s time. My brother’s pale face and wide eyes.
And the traitor he had his arms around.
Soren.
The man who’d betrayed our pack to the hunters who’d killed my son and mate.
Fury like nothing I’d ever felt had possessed me and then…
A door slams nearby, and footsteps head my way. I lurch into a corner, arms raised to defend myself, as a woman comes into view. There’s a ring of keys on her belt. Keys to my cell, mayhap?
I want to ask her so many things, but they won’t leave my mouth, only low growls.
She freezes, knuckles white around the keys. “How do you feel, Mr. Erikson?”
“W-where am I?” The words scrape their way out like regurgitated bones.
“You’ve been detained by the Council of Traveler Affairs. You shifted in an unauthorized and public space. You have broken traveler law.”
I nod, chin dropping to my chest. “Aye. Remember that much.” I roll my tongue around in my mouth, trying to find any moisture I can. I’m not hungry, so they must have kept me fed while I was shifted. Judging by the lingering taste, whatever I ate was raw and bloody.
“Is my brother all right?”
There’s a memory of his scream echoing in the back of my mind. I can’t shake it.
“Yes. He and your brothers are waiting for you. Face the wall and put your hands behind your back, Mr. Erikson.”
My heart thuds hard against my chest. “Why would I be foolish enough to turn my back on you?”
“I mean you no harm. Your brother’s trial is about to start, and we’ll need you to testify if you’re able.”
Lyall is being tried? Soren as well, I’d imagine. As angry as I am with Lyall, I need to hear him out and understand why he went behind our backs to meet with that traitor.
Turning, I put my hands behind my back, and the cell door opens.
“I’m going to put some cuffs on you,” she warns me and snaps them on before I can protest. “Follow me.”
After many irritating questions from some witch who stinks of ozone, they rule that I’m fit to testify. My hands remain bound, and they insist on strapping an enormous muzzle to my head before they march me to the courtroom where I join my family. They remove the muzzle before the trial begins.
The sight of Soren sitting beside the judges makes anger burn in my belly. There is nothing the Council can say or do that will make me forgive him for his betrayal of my family. Nothing.
Unless… is there? Would my brother still harbor such devotion for Soren if he had truly turned against us?
When one of the witches touches Soren’s head, a familiar scene plays out right in the middle of the courtroom.
Men and women, pale and see-through, confront Soren about his crimes.
Just as I remembered, the bastard confesses to everything.
These memories they’re showing us are no different, so why bother at all?
A vicious rush of satisfaction sweeps through my stomach.
Then Councilwoman Harding tells us all that someone had tampered with Soren’s memories, that there is more we have not seen. Lyall growls furiously.
To my astonishment, a whole new memory flickers into view. Soren is chained to a wall, head hanging, covered in blood and filth. This must be after we’d chained him up in the cellar following his betrayal. Wulfric had needed time to decide his fate. My brother’s past self appears from nowhere.