Chapter 20
Sitting on the bed, I stared at the sputtering fire, the sound soothing, yet neither my mind nor my body could relax. It had been several hours since Onyx disappeared, leaving his friends to settle me into his room and squabble over if they should tie me up or not.
“I don’t think she’ll run.” Bj?rn peered at me.
“You trust that she won’t?” Brynn motioned to me, both talking like I wasn’t there.
“Where in the Huginn-Muninn is she gonna go?”
“We’d still have to waste our time searching for her if she tries!”
“I say tie her up.” Renyx leaned against the doorframe, nursing a flask, one eye swollen completely shut. “Can’t risk it.”
“See!” Brynn nodded to Renyx’s statement. “She—”
“I won’t escape.” I spoke out, shifting on the bed, my arms crossed. “You have my word.”
Brynn finally looked over at me.
“Sorry, I don’t particularly trust your word.”
“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”
“Excuse me?” Brynn took a step toward me.
“Brynn.” Bj?rn placed his hand on her shoulder, his head shaking.
She tugged out of his hold, her teeth glinting in the room’s firelight. “Don’t forget I was your hersir when Onyx was gone. And as his second, I still have the final say over you.”
Bj?rn shifted, his mouth going into a firm line, appearing so different than the happy-go-lucky man I had seen.
“And as your second, I can tell you when you’re being a bitch.” He lowered his voice, speaking only to her. “You’re making this personal, Brynn. Might want to watch that.”
Fury ignited over her frame, her face turning red. She looked like she wanted to tell him off, to explode in the room, but instead she spat out, “Fine. If she runs, that’s on you. I couldn’t give a fuck!” She pushed by him, whisking out of the room.
“Great.” Renyx gave Bj?rn a look.
“What, was I wrong?” Bj?rn shrugged.
Renyx narrowed his eyes on him before taking a final sip, tucking the flask in his pants, and following Brynn out, like going after her wasn’t even a second thought to him.
“Yes, it can get awkward when you’re married, but in love with his best friend, while your husband’s twin is in love with you.”
Bj?rn turned back to me. “I’ll send someone up with food, and warm water to wash up.”
I tracked him as he headed for the exit. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“You haven’t given me reason not to yet.
” He shrugged. “The moment you do . . . well, they don’t call me bear for nothing, sweetheart, so let’s not challenge me.
” He gripped the door handle, stepping into the hall.
“Sven will be right outside this door if you need anything else.” He shut the door, letting me know the trust only went so far. They still had a guard on me.
Staring down at my hands, I heaved a heavy sigh, the fire in the hearth warming, glowing the chamber in a dim light.
The room was nicer than the one in Blackwater, with fur rugs and blankets, a heavy four-poster with side tables, and an area with a mirror to wash up.
The walls were painted a soft salmon color, dark wood beams lining the ceiling.
This place was nothing like I’d pictured. The colorful buildings, the streets full of people, going about their day, laughing and talking, running a business or shopping. No barbarians cutting people’s throats in the street, no one living in hovels wearing rags.
Nothing here was that different from Silvervale.
And that unsettled me, like the ground under my feet was no longer steady.
A tap came at the door, Sven opening it up, his hands full of items. A tray of food and drink in one hand and items of clothing in another.
“Here.” He thrust the tray at me, his eyes not quite meeting mine.
“Thanks.” I took it, sniffing at the two bowls of hot stew steaming up into my face, my stomach growling. Peering at the other items of warm bread, cured meats, ale, and a hot water pitcher.
“They also gave me these for you.” He rushed his speech, holding up the clothing.
Setting down the tray, I claimed the items from him. A nightgown, along with a linen blouse that settled low on the shoulders with a belted blue apron dress over, which seemed the style here. There was also a man’s dark trousers and tunic.
“Thanks,” I replied again, setting them on the bed and glancing back at Sven. He shifted like he was slightly nervous of me.
“I’ll be right outside,” he muttered, moving for the door.
“You want to stay and eat with me?” I had no idea what possessed my mouth to ask him. All night I had wanted peace and quiet, but the idea of being alone here, letting my mind wander and think, had me gripping my hands. “I’m assuming you hadn’t eaten yet.” I nodded to the bowls of stew.
He stared back like I had lost my mind. “That’s for Hersir.”
“Do you see him here?” I motioned around the room with a thread of resentment.
“For all we know, he’ll be out all night.
” Maybe finding release for his anger other places.
“It will get cold. Someone might as well eat it.” I moved to the chairs set near the fireplace, my upbringing so used to no one ever refusing me that I laughed at his paralyzed state.
“Sit.” I patted the opposite chair. “I promise, I don’t have claws and wings.”
Sven looked around, his expression tight with hesitancy.
I picked up my bowl, tearing into the bread and scooping up the thick potato soup. The cream burst over my tastebuds, melting me into the chair. It was a simple dish, something I hadn’t had since I was a child, but it tasted delicious.
Sven shuffled closer, cautiously perching himself on the chair ready to bolt.
Like a nervous dog, I let him settle in on his own.
Eventually, Sven picked up the bowl, smelling it, taking a cautious bite.
The one bite turned into two, then three, the warm soup luring him past caution.
He scarfed down the bread, tucking into the stew like he was starving to death.
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” he muttered between slurps.
“That seems young for a Night Hunter?”
The spoon stopped at his mouth, suspicion shifting his regard to me. I went back to eating, leaving the question hanging, as though I didn’t care whether he answered or not. We both stayed quiet, finishing our meal.
“Yes.” He lowered his bowl, staring at the fire. “I’m younger than anyone who joined before.”
“You must be very good then.” Sarina was always the one to tell me: Stroke a man’s ego, and he will tell you anything.
His mouth pursed, lost in thought.
“I can shoot a man straight through the eye at three hundred meters.”
“Wow.” My brows lifted at his comment; that was almost impossible.
“But that’s not why I’m here,” he said quietly.
“That man, Stigr, said something about the Night King being your uncle?”
Sven’s expression darkened, his jaw crunching down. “Why does it matter to you?”
“It doesn’t.” I shrugged. “Guess I’m curious, since I’m being taken to him, and nobody will clearly tell me what he is going to do with me or what he’s like.”
Sven set down his bowl, his expression darkening.
“My uncle is—”
“Sven.” A growl came from the door, leaping the boy up to his feet, whipping us both to the figure standing in the doorway. Onyx’s dark eyes danced between the pair of us, his jaw straining.
“Hersir, I’m sorry . . . she made me to come sit—”
“Get the fuck out.”
Sven didn’t even think twice, his boots darting past his leader and out the door like a punished puppy.
“Made him?” I huffed. “Like I forced him to sit with me.”
Onyx didn’t respond. His arms crossed over his naked chest, his trousers barely gripping his hips, sinking low.
Dried blood and sweat streaked over his torso and face.
His presence loomed in the room, taking full dominance of it, like he owned every part, including me.
A shiver ran through me, understanding the difference between him and every other person I had met here.
Others could throw their weight around, be terrifying in their manner, but none of them devoured a space like him. Held the weight equivalent to a king.
“Where have you been?” My voice came out more unsure than I wanted.
His nose flared, his eyes tracking down my neck to my filthy clothes. He stalked over to the water pitcher, pouring it in the bowl and splashing his face. He undid his belt, his pants falling to the ground as he stepped out of them.
“Huginn-Muninn!” A wheeze stuck in my throat, my body heating everywhere.
“What are you doing?” I squeaked, looking away in embarrassment, but my attention returned instantly to his naked backside in the dim firelight.
The flames flickering over his tall build, his broad shoulders flexing as he moved, his sculpted ass and thick muscular thighs.
His body was for worship, to fall to your knees in awe.
My pulse thumped in my ears, my eyes greedy to take in more. Scars crisscrossed his entire back, making me want to reach out and trace them.
“Put your clothes on.” I forced my eyes to the fire.
“You don’t tell me what to do,” he grunted, his tone resentful, reverting my gaze back to him as he turned to face me.
I inhaled sharply. The sight of his full nakedness engulfed me in fire, like the flames had crawled out of the hearth and into my veins, burning me from the inside out.
A glint of metal between his legs caught my attention.
Jaevlig Huginn-Muninn. Was he pierced there?
He stalked to me, my body humming with fear and desire, trying not to look at the small barbell pierced along the tip.
I had been with several men, but usually for a quickie in the horse stall, or in the forest, typically half clothed, or half drunk.
I thought I had seen my fair share, but Onyx was ripping everything out from under me again.
His entire body was nothing I had seen before.
“You are not my lover.” He lifted his lip, placing his hands on either side of the chair arms, leaning over me, aggression breathing in and out of him. “Nor my wife.” He sneered, his hand clasping my bicep, yanking me up to my feet. “You need to be reminded of your place.”