Chapter 12 #2
I backed into the railing, feeling it hum beneath my skin. But where I sought support, the wood provided none. It was quiet, a slow thrum like a heartbeat surging through it. As if it wasn’t certain whether to be excited or apprehensive.
Guner dipped his eyes to the hands I’d spread across the carved wood before lifting them to my own. “Darcke, do us the honors?”
Darcke had lingered by Rakkel, and the warrior was the only one on the ship who remained at ease, playing with the rope he’d meant to tie me and the other female heir together.
When Kilia came to stand opposite me, forcing my head back to meet his eyes, the tension in the ocean-tanged air thickened until it became difficult to breathe. His eyes were cold—indifferent—but for a spark of hatred shining through, almost like an amber flame surrounding his irises.
“Hello, Lika’s sister,” he drawled.
I didn’t like that he sounded like a warrior who’d managed to catch the predator stalking his village, or like a proud fisherman coming back with a full ship after a day’s haul. Darcke shoved the twin to my side and started tying our wrists together, ignoring how the karl vibrated from excitement.
I doubted Guner had ever smiled so widely. “I just remembered,” he said. “Your sister was quite close to Lika, wasn’t she, Kilia?”
My skin burned where Kilia’s touched it, the hair all over my body standing at end at the threat that radiated from the muscled karl.
This? What Guner was doing? It wasn’t because I’d been rude, or because he felt snubbed by the Sweengards for sending a different heir.
My skin pebbled when the king’s second laughed, because the way Kilia licked his lips after sharing a glance with his brother…
I had a feeling I was about to be in all kinds of danger.
I didn’t dare look at Viljan when Kilia dragged me closer, until my entire body lined up with his, so instead I focused on the man finishing up the knot that chafed my wrist.
Darcke’s long fingers worked the rope until an intricate binding sealed me and Kilia.
Only when he was finished did his face lift to mine. It was almost reassuring to see his arrogant brows raise. His eyes, which looked black in certain lights but now were a rich, dark brown, blinked with boredom before he walked off.
“Good.” I jerked when Guner clapped his hands.
“With these favorable winds, we’ll be at Svartoarna soon.
I suggest you spend the time getting to know each other if you don’t already.
” He turned to Darcke. The warrior had gone to rest against the railing, his head turned to the wind, the short, light strands blowing around his angled face.
“Darcke, collect the karls’ weapons. The king doesn’t want anyone to rely on steel. ”
As initiates began shuffling around the deck, most missed Darcke ignoring the king’s second, his body turned to the sea as if he saw something the rest of us missed.
“Darcke?” Guner echoed.
The man didn’t turn Guner’s way as he replied, “No.”
“No?” Guner’s jaw clenched.
“No,” Darcke said again. “I don’t feel like it.”
It was quiet for a few long moments, and even though some initiates had struck up conversations, it was impossible to miss the strained silence between the two.
Murmurs turned into whispers, and several coupled initiates shuffled further into the middle of the ship, avoiding the stray drops of salt splashing up on the sides.
Guner opened and closed his mouth a few times before he grumbled something incoherent. “Torden,” he growled.
A friendly-looking warrior, the first I’d seen with at least a shadow of upturned lips, his brown hair teasing his shoulders, came forward. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought Darcke hid a dark grin when he remained turned into the wind while Torden came and took the axe off Kilia’s back.
Kilia was silent as he forced me to the side of the ship, but unlike the quiet I usually shared with Viljan, this one wasn’t comfortable.
When he halted by the stern, the twin stared at me with such disdain that I wondered if he wouldn’t have stabbed me right there and then if the guard hadn’t taken his weapon.
A scuffle rang over the water, a heated exchange moving our way.
Viljan was hauling Stefen closer to me by the rope that tied them together. The latter spewed such filth that the king would have blushed as he dug his heels into the deck to try to turn and get to Rakkel and the middle of the ship.
The female heir was trying to get any conversation out of the girl she was now tied to, but from the way the girl stared straight ahead, Rakkel was probably feeling about as lucky as I did.
My arm jerked as Kilia pulled on our rope.
He can’t kill you, I reminded myself. He might hate you, but he can’t kill you.
I blew up my cheeks before letting the air trickle out.
“Tell me,” I demanded through my teeth.
Kilia stiffened. “What did you say?”
“I said ‘tell me.’” I nodded to our wrists. “We’re about to be stuck together for days, and you clearly have something on your mind. So tell me. I can take it.”
At least I hoped so.
A low chuckle that didn’t reassure me at all vibrated through Kilia’s chest. “I don’t think you can.
That guard of yours runs after you like a mother would a babe.
Did he not understand that the moment he and his precious little heir set foot on Nordoen, you would be surrounded by all of us—the dirty dregs of society—until you graduated?
” Kilia leaned in so close I could count the thick hair covering his chin.
“Lika must have thought he was clever to send you instead. But we don’t discriminate between Sweengards.
” He waved to his brother, whose lips lifted into a crazed smile. “We’ll crush your skull all the same.”
I wanted nothing more than to take a step back from him—to untie our wrists—but that wasn’t why I was here. That wasn’t who I was. That wasn’t what a Sweengard did. So instead I tilted my head further back. “If I don’t return, neither do you.”
Kilia’s smile didn’t waver as he twisted his arm until the rope burned into my flesh. “Sounds like a fair price to me. Oscri will care for our family when I’m gone.”
I pressed my lips together when Kilia’s hand wrapped around my unbound wrist and he tightened his grip until my bones squeaked. His lips brushed my ear as he rested his cheek against mine, the scent of anger and leather and sweat coiling around us.
What the fuck had Lika done to him?
“How should I do it?” He took an excited breath. “Drown you in the sea?”
His hand moved to my throat, and I refused to let the fear in my belly show in my face when he cut off my breath.
“Snap your neck before we’ve even stepped off this ship?”
He squeezed hard enough to bruise, his fingers digging into my throat until I heard my heart pound between my ears. While I kept my mouth shut, my mind was all the louder.
I needed to come up with something to calm him.
“Get the fuck off her,” Ivren shouted, but Guner’s men had sealed us off, keeping a line between us and the other heirs and initiates.
I couldn’t stand the pain in Ivren’s eyes, so I blinked it away, refusing the yelp winding through my throat as Kilia firmed his grip.
“You’re trying to be brave, aren’t you?” the twin taunted.
“Is that why you’re not fighting back?” He dragged his tongue over his bottom teeth.
“Did your brother tell you why he wouldn’t come?
Did he tell you why you’re going to die in his stead?
Do you consider it an honor to die for that bastard? ”
“Such… what do you call it… dramatics.”
Kilia’s back shot straight as Darcke strolled up to our side.
I wasn’t sure which of them I hated more, but as Kilia relaxed his grip and I pulled a shallow breath, I couldn’t help but throw Darcke a grateful look. One I instantly regretted.
“Why don’t you just kill the heir and be done with it?” the warrior drawled.
Kilia stared from me to the Viking, his fingers cutting off my air once more.
“I’m serious.” Darcke flicked a tooth with his tongue. “Don’t let me interrupt. It gets so boring outside the front lines. I would enjoy some… bloodshed.”
My lips parted when the wood digging into my back thrummed louder, pulsating through me like my own racing pulse.