Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
He was serious. The sun had set and risen again, and Darcke had remained in the spot he’d taken up after challenging me last night. He sat against a tree, his long legs folded leisurely before him, his head resting against the trunk, and kept his eyes closed, his chest moving steadily.
I got up on stiff legs from my position against a trunk on the other side of the small glen. Darcke popped open an eye, but when he realized I was only headed to the small stream trickling into the larger one, leading to the waterfall, he closed it again.
I sighed as I washed my hands in the cool water, using some to splash on my face and pulling at the neck of my tunic to dab some water on the top of my chest. The temperatures had risen overnight, and a humidity that wasn’t common here in the north seeped into my leathers, making my skin sticky and my mood irritable.
I was tempted to try to sneak around him and head to the spot I’d taken up in the trees close to the Hird, but as I took one step in that direction, the warrior shifted.
“I can feel what you’re trying to do, and I’ll only carry you back,” Darcke warned.
Another low sound of annoyance wove up my throat, and my footsteps were heavy as I returned to the glen, walking back and forth while twisting my hands.
Darcke stretched his hands over his head, his eyes opening.
Unlike me, he looked more rested than I’d ever seen him, the bluish hint that usually accentuated his tattoos having faded slightly. “There is an easy solution to your rage. Fight me.”
“I don’t want to,” I replied as I walked up to the waterfall, watching the water race violently into the vast lake.
“You want to.” Darcke laughed quietly. “You want to very much. You’re just holding back for a reason I can’t yet understand. But don’t worry. I’ll catch on quickly.”
The predatory sound of a golden eagle whistled through the air, and a flock of birds took flight from a tree in the glen, shooting toward the sky before diving, following the steep drop of water until their wings leveled them and they flew for the mountains ahead.
I kept my focus on their beating wings when Darcke came to my side.
“Wishing to fly isn’t the Viking way,” he said. “Unless it’s atop tall waves, of course.”
“Do you ever want to leave everything behind?” I blurted out. “Find someplace new? Somewhere far away from everything where you can start over?”
Darcke blew a breath out of his nose. “The way your clan is conquering the world, there aren’t many of those places left.”
True. We’d never claimed so many nations as under King Gustief’s rule, or so violently forced them under our crown and our gods.
Previous generations of kings had favored trade and exploration, and Gustief had started out that way as well.
But over the past decade the king had become greedy—had started asking more of his chiefs until they spent most of the time out at sea and in battle, quelling any enemies that might try to stand against us.
“You don’t agree with Gustief’s ways?”
My stomach roiled. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you feel conflicted,” Darcke said.
“No,” I rushed out. “That’s not true. I am eager to start. I only need to survive the academy first.”
“Pity.” Darcke brushed something off his trousers.
“You can’t walk around and say things like that,” I said, worry twisting in my chest.
“Why not?”
There was true curiosity spinning around the bond. It made my gut turn.
“Because.” I threw out my hands. “The king is the closest thing to divinity outside of Valhalla, so his every demand is to be honored.”
Vexation overtook the air, and I rolled my neck at the intense sensation.
“My people didn’t have one all-powerful leader,” Darcke said, and the urge I’d had to leave his side faded with the prick of pain that stabbed at me.
“No?”
“We had a council, each man and woman elected by jarls and karls alike.” Darcke’s gaze was on the snow-covered mountaintops, but a hollowing feeling of grief built around us until I could taste the devastation.
“Everyone was gifted the rune for water when they turned fifteen.” He shot a look at me.
“It didn’t create this hatred for the elite—for the ones blessed by gods who couldn’t care less if their subjects slaughtered each other until no one remained. ”
“Our gods care,” I protested, fear burrowing into my heart. “That’s why they allow us to share our runes with our people.”
“And make them dependent on you?” Darcke clicked his tongue. “Most don’t enjoy that. Having their lives tied so fiercely to someone else’s that their wyrds are no longer their own? Knowing that if their chief dies, they are left to become thralls under another?”
I stiffened, my hands twisting behind my back.
“Don’t worry,” Darcke drawled. “I have no desire to lead your people, so I intend to keep you alive.” He cocked his head. “Us fighting together would aid that.”
“It’s one of the highest honors to be a second, you know.” I dug my nails into my palms, ignoring his attempt to make me talk about the fighting. “Anyone at the Hird would have killed to be in your place.”
“And they would have killed you to take your place. What is the honor in that?”
I turned to the waterfall again. “If an heir can be killed, they have no right to lead a people.”
“Everyone can be killed.”
I jerked when Darcke raised his voice.
“You, me… even Gustief, if the chiefs want it.”
“Stop speaking like that,” I hissed. “You cannot talk of our king’s murder.”
“If you’re so afraid of the gods’ wrath, why are you not participating in the trials they’ve set up for you? Why are you not showing off the powers they’ve offered you? Why do you hide away like a scared fugitive?”
“I am not hiding away!”
Darcke raised his brows.
“I am not hiding because I am scared for myself,” I snarled.
“So you’re scared for someone else?”
Fuck. I took a breath to calm myself before I said—or felt—something else that Darcke might be able to interpret in his quest to figure me out.
“I’m not scared of anything,” I responded after another deep gulp of air.
“Everyone is scared of something.”
“What are you scared of, then?” I demanded.
Darcke sucked on his teeth. “Many things.”
“Name one.”
“People who are so blinded by pride they cannot see truth.”
The intensity of those words was jarring, making me spin toward him.
“I’m not blinded by pride,” I said.
The opposite. I’d forsaken all of it to save my people, and I was fine with that. I only hoped the gods would see why I’d done what I’d done and reward me for it instead of condemning me to Helheim.
“Who said I was talking about you?”
I groaned. “Can you ever answer a question outright?”
His lips twitched. “If you ask the right ones.”
Shaking my head, I started walking into the glen again. As I went to sit down by the tree, Darcke’s hand wrapped around my wrist, and he pulled me toward him. “How about I’ll answer some of your questions after each time you fight me?”
I did my best spoiled-heir grimace, lifting my brows while pursing my lips. “You’re not that interesting.”
“Liar.” He patted his chest. “I can feel that you’re intrigued by me.”
“You’re mistaking annoyance for interest.”
“Really?” Darcke moved so swiftly I didn’t have time to react, his body pressing me against the tree, making my heart jump against my ribs. “Then what was that?”
“Surprise, you bastard.” I pushed a finger into his chest. “Happens to everyone who gets crushed by a massive brooding warrior.”
A spark of warmth raced across the bond, and we looked away at the same time. Darcke remained in place, though, his chest pressing against mine until my spine raked against the bark.
“Can you move?” I asked.
He tilted his head. “No.”
Understanding dawned within me at the satisfaction flickering within him. Using both my hands, I pushed against his chest. “Move.”
“Make me,” he challenged.
“No.”
Darcke moved even closer, his hands resting on the trunk while he bent his head down. “Make me move, heir.”
“No.”
Adrenaline began boiling through my blood, making my limbs twitch. More satisfaction burned within the warrior, a smirk sliding into place across his face.
It only made me angrier.
His hands dropped to my shoulders, and I stiffened when he moved his cheek to rest against my own. “Fight me,” he whispered.
His body made everything warmer, and a bead of sweat formed at my temple.
“No,” I echoed.
He pulled back so he could glare at me. As our gazes collided, the drop of sweat trickled down my face, slid over my mouth and down my chin, then made its way over my neck until it disappeared into my tunic.
Darcke’s eyes followed, and when they lifted again, something within him jolted.
It was like a tiny spark that awoke in his chest, then whirled, sprinting toward the bond, where it surged, finding its way into me.
My body twitched without my permission, and his already dark eyes went impossibly black.
He stepped back at the same time I blurted out, “Fine, I’ll fight you.”
The smirk on his face was fake, but neither of us commented on it as he gave a nod before stalking backward and beckoning for me with his finger.
“I won’t use my magic,” I said, trying for a superior tone. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”
Darcke wetted his lips. “There are very few things you can do to embarrass me, heir.”
I clenched my hands against the surge in my stomach, and before he could react, I lunged, sprinting toward him and ducking under his arm, diving for his legs instead.
He fell backward with a satisfactory thud, and I dodged his hand as he tried to drag me with him, flying to my feet instead and pressing my boot to his heaving chest.
“Yield,” I ordered.
His eyes glittered in the sunlight filtering through the trees surrounding us, and when his lips lifted into the first real smile I’d ever seen on his face, his entire appearance changed.
There was a softness around his eyes that contrasted with his sharp cheekbones, and his lips were fuller than I’d realized as they spread across his features.