Chapter Forty-Seven Samira
FORTY-SEVEN SAMIRA
I clutched Sillia’s axe to my thundering chest as I followed the Seven to the clearing among the trees, the same place Hedin’s funeral had been held a couple of weeks ago—though it felt like another lifetime.
Dalla and Cano stabbed two torches into the ground as Keir tossed aside his fur cloak. He spun his axe expertly, and it whistled as it cut through the air.
I spoke through dry lips. “I never claimed to be a warrior. And this isn’t a khopesh—”
“An axe is an axe, Majesty.” Keir stretched his neck, his braid swinging at his back. “First blood wins.”
I blanched, even as Velka shouted, “No!”
“We swore not to harm her.” Sillia patted her chest. “First contact. No blood, Keir.”
“Fine.” He grinned at me. A predator toying with its food. “Ready, Majesty?”
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered for his ears only.
“Because I was a fool, and now I’m fixing my mistake.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t know how to use that.” He nodded to the axe I was strangling against my chest. “Admit it.”
I couldn’t. Not without making this whole month worthless.
I racked my brain for something else to say to stop this.
I should voice outrage, question how they could treat the Gods-Chosen this way.
I should threaten to tell Rade of their insubordination, threaten them with punishment after I was made their queen.
But when I opened my mouth, the words died on my tongue, gagged by my terror.
Velka turned to Sillia. “I am Third, and I demand you stop this.”
“Well, I’m First,” Keir countered, “and I’d rather not.”
“Back-to-back,” Sillia ordered.
Keir approached so that we were mere inches apart. I had to tilt my head all the way back to meet his sparkling gaze. In a voice so low, I almost missed it, he said, “Your heart’s going like a rabbit’s again, Majesty. Tell me why, and this stops.”
I ground my teeth hard enough to shatter them but said nothing. The truth would kill me as much as my silence. I had no choice. I had to do this.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” And he turned.
So did I, and when I pressed my back to his, my head cradled within his shoulder blades, my knees nearly gave out at the strength I felt there. Keir could snap me like a twig. It wouldn’t take any effort at all.
But I was trapped. Put here by my own stupidity.
We walked ten paces away from each other. Heart in my throat, I faced him again. The runes skirting down his jaw and throat made him look like he was salivating.
Sillia barked, “Begin.”
Keir pounced.
I’d always been fast. I was small and nimble, and when the adrenaline shot through my body, masking the pain in my leg and arms, that swiftness was the only explanation for why my head was still attached to my body.
Keir swung his axe at my torso, but I darted away, quick as the rabbit he often called me, and spun back around to see him coming at me a second time.
Again, I dodged him, swallowing a curse when my boots slipped on the icy ground and a dart of pain went through my leg.
Keir snarled in frustration. When I tried to jump away once more, he was ready. He swept his leg low, and I went sprawling face-first, my axe flying out of my hand and pain ricocheting through my body.
I turned onto my back just as he brought his blade down. With a yelp, I rolled out of the way. The large blade lodged into the ground exactly where my head had been.
Holy gods. He was trying to kill me.
“Keir, enough,” Velka called.
“Don’t interfere,” he snapped, and her mouth clamped shut. A primal obedience.
Keir stalked toward me, and I scuttled away on my hands until my back hit a tree. “Tell me why you won’t fight,” he said, and kicked my axe back to me. “Tell me and I’ll stop.”
I clutched the axe’s hilt and glanced from the tree to Keir, an idea flaring to life. I used the tree to heave myself up to my feet, pressing my back against it as I caught my breath.
“Have it your way,” Keir growled, and swung his blade right at my head.
I ducked.
The axe stuck in the bark.
Keir grunted as he struggled to pull it out.
I bolted out from under him and spun to smack the flat of my axe against his back—
His arm shot out, axe free, and slammed against mine.
The weapon flew from my hand, and I didn’t even have time to gasp before he poised his blade at my neck.
A tickle of pain and then a small bit of blood trailed down my throat. Just a scratch.
I didn’t move.
Keir bore down on me, yellow eyes wild and hungry, just like they’d been that night in the palace, just like the Lunar Feast. He was breathing hard—whether with exertion or restraint, I wasn’t sure. With a small flick of his wrist, he could slit my throat.
His nostrils flared, and his eyes darted up to my forehead, my runes. His face changed. He pulled the axe away from my throat, and I could breathe again.
But then I watched as Keir brought the weapon to his lips.
His tongue darted out to lick my blood off the blade’s edge. His normally too-bright eyes guttered to a slumbering gold and flicked back to mine.
I didn’t know how to describe that look.
It wasn’t bloodlust or even anger. It was something else entirely, and it held me captive.
I couldn’t look away from those peculiar eyes.
They seared into me and covered the rest of the world in a blanket of quiet, the only sound my haggard breathing and thundering heart.
Then someone was shoving between us.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Rade demanded. He slammed his palms into Keir’s chest, knocking him back a step.
Keir said, “She’s fine.” But his voice sounded dazed. Soft. Not a trace of his usual growl.
Rade glanced at me, instantly spotting the line of blood on my neck. His red runes mirrored the rage in his face. “My orders are not suggestions, Keir. She was not to be harmed. What you’ve done is treason.”
Keir blinked, finally looking away from me as he came back to himself. “Treason?”
“I am your king.” I’d never seen Rade so furious, but his eyes were like the flames of the jinn. “Senko,” he barked, and his new Second stepped forward. “Lock him up.”
Keir scoffed as Senko approached. “You can’t be serious. She’s fine, Rade. Look at her.”
Rade turned to the rest of the Seven. “If he resists, use force.”
Keir gaped as he looked from Rade to the Seven, ultimately stopping on Velka. His jaw tightened. “I told you not to interfere.”
“And I didn’t,” she retorted as she reached his side. “The king did.” She helped Senko wrench Keir’s arms behind his back and pushed him forward.
But as he passed me, Keir looked me dead in the eye.
And grinned.