The Seeker (The Reader #2)

Chapter 1

Iassumed the war between Ralheim and Malheim would conclude with the death of both Adis and Hansen.

I was wrong.

If anything, the war waged harder now, the death tolls increasing with each passing day. But they no longer fought about land and who owned what.

Now, they fought over me.

Or at least, that’s what I gathered from my limited exposure to information.

My new life as Leif’s wife held even fewer freedoms than when I’d been a reader in his father’s employ. As the wound on my hand healed into a rounded scar, my freedoms were stripped one by one.

First, it was my ability to travel around Malheim unescorted. Then it was Leif allowing me to speak my anger at him freely.

Slowly I lost the ability to even roam the ground at will until I couldn’t even leave our bedroom without a Leif-approved escort, and all of my meals were hand delivered by Leif himself.

So much for negotiating for Friar to come with me to Malheim. I hadn’t even seen her since the day I’d bonded Leif, which was now three fortnights prior.

A lifetime, the way my life had been shifting.

“Leif.” I cleared my throat, attempting to remove the hoarseness from my voice as I sat up in bed and my bonded dressed in the corner of the room we shared.

It wasn’t the room I’d lived in when I’d initially moved to Malheim, but I assumed these rooms had always been his. “I’d like to go to the market today—”

“No,” he cut me off. “Not today.”

“But I’d really like to purchase—”

“I said no.” Leif’s voice was firm as his fingers tucked every button on his jacket into the proper hole.

I huffed. I wished I could say I was surprised, but this had become our daily routine. “Please. I’ll take an extra escort. I’ll even go on horseback, but I need—”

“Runa, my answer is no, and that’s final.

” Leif’s voice held no emotion as he pulled his sword from his scabbard to evaluate the sharp edge before pushing it back in.

“Ralheim is creeping forward and we are losing land at an alarming pace. You will send a servant for anything you need from the market from now on.”

I struggled to swallow over the lump in my throat as it grew difficult to breathe. “You don’t understand, Leif,” I pleaded. “You’re treating me like a prisoner, not your bonded. And . . . and it’s killing me. I can’t live like this Leif—without any freedoms. I can’t.”

“You’re being dramatic, Runa.” Leif crossed the room, brushing a hand down my cheek. “If you really want to feel like a prisoner that would mean never leaving this room. Trust me, my heart, you are far from a prisoner.”

I couldn’t stop the frustrated growl that fell from my lips, and I pushed his hand away from my face. “You can’t keep me here.”

“I can, and I will,” Leif amended. “Effective immediately. I’ll inform Harold you aren’t to leave our quarters today unless I am present.” He moved toward the door, tossing me a stern look before closing it behind him.

My hand gripped the pillow that Leif usually slept on, hurling it toward the door.

It hit the wood with a pathetic thump before dropping to the floor and I knew Leif probably hadn’t even heard it.

Not seeing any other solution, I rose from bed and headed into the bathroom to begin my monotonous daily routine.

Although I’d long moved into Leif’s quarters, and the staff recognized me as the Seid equivalent to his wife, life was much worse than before I’d been his bonded.

Granted, his quarters were opulent—an entire suite of rooms including a sitting room, dining room, study, and bedroom, which held a gold-plated four-poster bed that was straight from my dreams, a green canopy looped around the top bars.

There was a dressing table on one side of the room, next to our two matching wardrobes, though I’d converted it to my desk since I’d been barred from using Leif’s study on the other side of the sitting room.

At least there was still a private bathing chamber at my disposal, accessible only via passing through the bedroom.

I spent long hours in the tub, soaking my skin and dreaming of the man who had illuminated my heart during the darkest period of my life.

Otho.

My heart fluttered at his name alone.

“Runa, my darling, come here, will you?”

My bonded’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I cringed.

I remained in the water for several more moments until the wave of annoyance from Leif told me I was out of time.

I cautiously rose from the tepid water. I should’ve left the bath long ago, but with no other way to occupy my time, I often soaked until I shivered.

Grabbing the blue silk robe, which I’d tossed on the floor hours before, I wrapped it around myself, tying it at the waist, pausing to peer into the looking glass as I stepped out of the bathroom.

I hardly recognized myself anymore.

Gaunt Runa was back, my cheeks sunken as I fought to swallow my dinner each night.

Dark circles lived under my gold-rimmed brown eyes now, because I couldn’t keep the nightmares at bay.

Leif had even gone so far as to cut my brown hair back to the length it had been at when he’d met me, but he’d done it with a dull sword in a moment of anger, leaving the ends choppy and mismatched.

As much as I missed him, I was glad Otho couldn’t see me now.

And with each day that passed, I was more and more certain I didn’t want to see him.

Weighted or not, he wouldn’t want me, not like this.

I didn’t even want me anymore. As much as I tried to fight, to remain the brave Runa I’d discovered on the day Adis and Hansen had been killed, I couldn’t seem to find her.

She was gone now, leaving only this depressed and empty version of me in her place.

Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t come for me like he’d promised.

My heart ached at that thought. I pushed it away, shoving it in the back of my mind where I’d been sending all my emotions to die.

The living bond beneath my skin was hard to ignore, but when you fought every day for basic needs, it grew easier over time.

It was like my heart were a puppet and the strings were aging and they could no longer force any movement.

The only joy I felt at my own reflection came from the tattoo inked on my left ribs. The colors stood out against my pale skin, and I couldn’t resist brushing my thumb over the snake design. I missed Collum and Milo.

My heart panged at the thought of Collum. Though I was back in Malheim, I’d been unable to deduce her location. She wasn’t in the room where I’d left her—I checked when I first arrived—and no servants were able to speak of her whereabouts.

I don’t think she survived.

Or if she did, she was once again in hiding.

With a sigh, I left the bathing chamber, emerging in time to observe Leif’s pacing in front of the fireplace, the embers burning low. I needed to find myself, and fast, before I disappeared entirely, and there was nothing left for Otho to come for.

If he ever came for me.

“Runa, my heart,” he cried as he ran over to me, pulling me into his arms. While I once would have shivered in pleasure at the nickname, I was too dead inside to care anymore.

I barely felt his arms as they wrapped around me.

“What have you been up to today?” he questioned, pulling back so his blue eyes could search my face.

“Reading,” I lied, tilting my head to the side, where a pile of books lay on the dressing-table-turned desk.

Leif regularly procured books from the library and left them for me, but they were of no interest to me.

They were books about romance, something I no longer believed in.

He switched out the pile often, but any book that graced the desk in this room went unread.

But I wasn’t about to tell him I spent my entire day in the bath.

“Excellent, which ones are you finished with? I will bring you more.” His blue eyes sparkled as he spoke, and I wondered for the umpteenth time how he could ignore my obvious plight.

It was like he didn’t know me at all.

But all of the energy to fight had left me.

I held my arm out and motioned to a few of the books. It didn’t matter; I hadn’t read any of them, nor had I lifted any of them up.

Leif moved to the dressing table, and I absentmindedly scratched the AC burned onto the inside of my wrist. The scar had healed, but I still experienced phantom twinges from time to time.

Reminders of a life sacrificed.

Leif spun, his eyes following the movement of my hand. His mood soured instantly, and I felt waves of anger, courtesy of the empathy magic I still possessed.

I took a step back.

“One moment,” he growled, dropping the books with a clatter and stomping out of the room.

I’d thought I’d done it, thought I’d earned peace for the afternoon, but as I pulled on one of my many dresses over my pruned skin, Leif stomped back into the room . . .

A metal bar clutched in his fist.

Ice shot through my veins, and my hands started to shake as they tried to finish lacing up the dress. “Leif,” I breathed. “Please—”

“Adis is dead, and I’m tired of seeing your wrist branded with his name.”

“It’s just his initials,” I clarified, desperate to stop him from what he was about to do.

“My heart, don’t you know how much it pains me to see the initials of the man who killed my father?” Leif rested the metal rod on the hearth, the end in the flames he stroked back to life, before stomping over to me.

I wanted to throw his words back at him, ask him how he felt when he watched his own father force me to read him magic. But I swallowed my words. It was easier to say nothing.

My words wouldn’t de-escalate this situation.

I bit my lip. “Please, Leif, if you will allow me to visit the lake, I-I can make a lotion that will lessen the visibility of the brand. Please.”

Emotions flickered across his face one after another. For a moment, I thought he would listen to me, that the Leif I had once cared for would spare me the infliction of additional pain. But then his features hardened into a mask I’d come to know all too well.