“I don’t like talking about myself.”
“You don’t trust many people, do you?”
“No,” he muttered.
Why did I care about this man? If he didn’t want to talk or share his life with me, he didn’t have to.
He tilted his head toward me and our eyes locked. My heartbeat sped up under his scrutiny. “My life before Vidar was a nightmare. Talking about it only makes me relive that time in my life. I was forced to become a monster and commit such atrocious crimes it makes me sick.”
I glanced away, unable to take his piercing gaze. “I didn’t realize.”
“Of course not. You had a loving father raise you, not a sadistic man who only saw you as a piece of property—something he could make money from.”
Mustering the courage to peer into his glassy eyes, I said, “If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.” I patted his shoulder and then scooted away so he’d know I didn’t plan to push the matter any further.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” he said with a devious smile. “If you pass the trials and receive your weapon, I’ll answer one question.”
The awkward tension faded away. “Any question?”
He nodded.
“Then be prepared, because it’s not if I pass, but when.”
Chapter Twelve
“Watch out!” Vidar yelled as he lowered something through the hole. I reached for the basket woven from leaves and twigs, releasing it from the vine rope. Inside was some sort of thick, gooey paste.
“Smear it all over his boot,” Vidar instructed. “It should enable him to shimmy free.”
I was about to ask what the substance was when Anders said, “You don’t want to know.”
Snapping my mouth shut, I knelt near his foot. Lifting two fingers, I prepared to scoop the goo when Anders swiftly sat up and grabbed my hand. “Don’t touch that stuff,” he said, squeezing my fingers. “There’s probably a leaf or something to use so it doesn’t come into contact with your skin.”
There was a large, green leaf attached to the side of the basket. Wrapping it around my fingers, I mumbled, “Here goes nothing.” I scooped up a glob of the substance and smeared it all over Anders’s boot. “This stuff smells like a rotten body.”
“You’re not far off,” he responded. “My boot is going to permanently stink.”
“See if you can wiggle it free.”
“It’s moving a little bit, but not enough.”
Scooping up more of the goo, I rubbed the pungent-smelling stuff on his boot. “What about now?”
Anders jiggled his leg, trying to free his foot. His face turned red.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” he replied, not meeting my eyes.
Throwing the leaf on the ground, I sat next to him, taking his hand in mine. He didn’t pull away. “Please be honest with me. Did you injure your foot when it got wedged in the crevice?”
He leaned back, lying on the ground, his hand still clasped with mine. “I think my ankle is sprained.”
No wonder he couldn’t get it out; it was probably swollen. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s not important.” He propped himself up on his elbows. “Listen, you need to get yourself out of here.”
There was no way I was going to leave him.
“Kaia,” he whispered, “it’s almost nighttime. You need the protection of Vidar’s necklace.” His face had a few days’ worth of stubble. “I’m sure my foot will be able to slip out once the swelling decreases.” He squeezed my hand.
“Let’s try one more time.” Releasing his hand, I grabbed his calf and pulled. His boot didn’t budge. Perhaps if I were positioned above him, instead of on his side, the angle would be more conducive to freeing him. Swinging my leg over to straddle him, I placed my hands below his knee, yanking upward.
Anders grunted, and his boot came free. I fell backward, landing on top of his stomach. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me in place so I didn’t topple to the rocky ground. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice right next to my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He slid his hands to my hips, and my heart hammered. We were too close. I nodded, and he released me.
Standing, I was unable to meet his brown eyes as I yelled up to Vidar, letting him know Anders was free. The vine rope dropped down.
Anders got to his feet and hobbled over. “Let’s attach this to you.”
“No, you first.” I grabbed the vines and handed them to him.
“You will not stay down here alone,” he said. “You will go first.”
“You’re the one who’s injured,” I argued. “And I’ll only be alone for a moment.”
“Will you two stop bickering like an old married couple?” Vidar yelled. “Kaia, grab hold, I’m pulling you up.”
These two men drove me nuts with their overprotectiveness. Anders wrapped the vines around my waist and securely tied them. I attempted to undo the knot, but he shouted to Vidar who immediately started hoisting me up.
“I’ll get you back for this!” I said to Anders.
He smiled. “I sincerely hope so.”
Vidar had lined the hole with large, green leaves so when he pulled me up, the vines didn’t fray or break. Once I was safely out, he threw the rope down to Anders. After he was out, we decided to head to the nearest cave for the night. Unfortunately, Anders’s ankle was sore and swollen. He had to wrap his arm around Vidar for support.
I led the way, careful to stay acutely aware of my hands. If there was any sort of pain, no matter how minor, I steered us in another direction in order to avoid potential danger. Once we reached the cave, I remained with Anders while Vidar left to gather firewood.
Anders slid to the ground and removed his boots. I handed him the water sack. When he was distracted drinking, I gently touched his ankle to see if it was broken.
“What are you doing?” he asked, yanking his foot away.
“Investigating.” I grabbed his foot and laid it on my lap. “Stay still so I don’t accidentally hurt you.”
He grunted but complied. I carefully removed his sock, exposing a very swollen and bruised ankle.
Vidar returned, dropping a large pile of branches on the ground. “How does it look?”
“I need catnip and sage.”
“Glad someone knows what they’re doing,” he replied. “I’ll be back as soon as I have them.” He ducked out of the cave.
“What do you know about catnip and sage?” Anders asked. “You’re from the city.”
His intense scrutiny made me uncomfortable. “Catnip reduces swelling and sage reduces inflammation. I’ve tended to my father’s wounds more than once.” Since Papa was a guard in the mines, he often came home with a swollen eye or bruised ribs from a scuffle.
Anders’s face remained unreadable. Reaching for his sack, I pulled out a blanket, folded it in half, and shoved it under his ankle so his foot was propped up. “Do you need anything else?”
“No. You’ve already done more than enough.”
“Friends help friends.” I shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have many friends.”
“Me neither,” I whispered, fidgeting with the end of my sleeve.
“When I was a slave, I had friends.” Anders’s voice was soft, barely audible. I remained quiet, hoping he’d share more about his childhood. “One day, my best friend’s shoes were stolen. He saw a fellow slave wearing them, and when he asked for them back, the kid started punching my friend. I jumped in and defended him. We got the shoes back.” A ghost of a smile flitted across his face.
“Unfortunately, our fight had been witnessed by my master who knew the value of someone with my skills. He sold me later that day to an assassin. I never saw my friend, or my family, again. All because I helped someone.
“The assassin took me far away. I spent years training, honing my skills, l
earning hundreds of ways to kill or maim a man in less than twenty seconds. I studied poisons, weapons, and human anatomy. My value lay in my ability to kill from the shadows, unseen. I was taught to never trust anyone. And that is what has kept me alive.” He leaned his head back against the wall of the cave.
“My father taught me the same thing,” I whispered. “About not trusting anyone.” I didn’t realize how much we had in common. “But you trust Vidar.”
“I do.”
“And I trust you.” The weight of my words hung heavy in the air. He tilted his head, and our eyes met. My heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the right words.
Vidar entered, and I jerked back, away from Anders.
“I have the items you requested,” Vidar said. He handed them to me, and I quickly got to work. If he noticed the awkward tension between Anders and me, he had the decency not to say anything.
After we ate, Anders nodded off to sleep. Vidar arranged his bedroll near the fire. “I don’t know about you,” he softly said, “but I’m not tired.”
“Me neither.” My conversation with Anders was still fresh in my mind.
Vidar pulled out a stack of cards. “Want to play?”
“Yes.” A game of cards sounded like fun, and it would be a nice distraction from thoughts of the sleeping assassin.
Vidar dealt us each five cards. “It has been quite an eventful day.”
We must be playing Stolen Moons. It was a game I knew well. I put one down and drew another from the stack. “Yes,” I replied. “It has.”
Vidar laid two cards down and picked up one more. Anders’s eyes were still closed, his breathing steady. I discarded another card. Vidar didn’t have anything to play, so he was forced to draw five.
I had three moons and was ready to reveal my winning hand. “What are we playing for?”
He fought a smile. “I assume you have a good hand?” I didn’t answer. “How about we play for information?”
“Deal.” I placed my cards down. “I win.”
“Unless I have the same three cards.” There was no way he could have managed that. He laid down three identical ones. “I win.”
I wanted to strangle him. “You must have cheated.”
“Nope,” he said, chuckling. “I’ve been playing this game a lot longer than you have.”
I folded my arms, fearing what he’d ask.
“So,” he mused, gathering the cards and putting them away. “I want to know something personal about you.”
Relieved his request was so simple, I opened my mouth to say something when he cut me off. “No you don’t. I choose the question you’ll answer. Who was the last person you kissed?”
“Easy. My father.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
My face went beet red. Of all the things he could have asked me, he chose to discuss this? I was mortified.
He laughed at my discomfort. “Come on,” he said. “You promised.”
“Fine. I’ve never kissed anyone.” I covered my face, wanting to shield myself from his scrutiny. Technically, Anders had kissed me in the brothel. Although, I hadn’t kissed him back, and it didn’t mean anything.
Vidar burst out laughing. “You’ve never kissed a man before? How is that possible? You’re sixteen! Most people marry around your age.”
“I’m not most people,” I mumbled. “Now leave me alone.”
“Sorry,” he said, still laughing. “We can fix that right now if you want.”
“Absolutely not.” I moved closer to the fire to make sure Vidar didn’t do anything to embarrass me—like kiss me out of jest.
“Oh, come on. I’m only teasing you.”
I ignored him, not wanting to make a big deal out of this.
“Kaia, I’m sorry.” He sat next to me, our shoulders touching. “You know I wasn’t serious.”
“What did you do?” Anders demanded, causing me to jump.
“Nothing,” Vidar said. “Go back to sleep. I was just teasing Kaia, and she took it personally. I’m trying to apologize.” He nudged my shoulder.
“You’re lucky my ankle hurts,” Anders said. “Otherwise I’d come over there and pummel you.”
Vidar laughed. Afraid he’d tell Anders what we were talking about, I said, “I’m fine. Please let it go.”
“I’m serious,” Anders said. “Kaia tended to my injury, now I’m in her debt.” He winked at me.
“Maybe I’ll get hurt so she can fawn all over me,” Vidar said.
I had the sudden urge to be out of the cave. “Excuse me,” I said, lurching to my feet. “I’m going to step outside for a couple of minutes.” Without waiting for a response, I turned and left.
“What did you say to her?” Anders asked.
I rested against the rock outside the cave, listening.
“Nothing,” Vidar responded. “I was just teasing her; trying to get her to loosen up.”
“Why?”
Vidar sighed. “I need to talk to her about something, and I don’t think she’s going to take kindly to the news.”
“What is it?”
“Something Grei Heks told me.” There was a moment of silence before Vidar continued, “What do you think of Kaia?”
Anders didn’t hesitate to respond. “She’s intelligent, tough, and has excellent survival skills. Why?”
Not wanting to hear any more, I walked away from the cave. The trees towered above me, shielding the sky. Sitting at the base of a tree trunk, I inhaled the frigid air.
Why couldn’t I stop thinking about Anders? Why did he make me so uncomfortable? Did it even matter if we were friends? Once the Krigers killed Morlet, I’d be back in the capital with my father. My breath caught. I couldn’t think about Papa right now. All my energy and focus had to be on getting my weapon.
The wind whirled around the trees, rattling the leaves. My head pounded. Morlet was searching for me. Perhaps communicating with him while I was awake would afford me more control over severing our connection. As stupid as it was to seek him out, the desire to know more about him before I killed him consumed me. Closing my eyes, I let myself relax and forced my power out.
I entered Morlet’s bedchamber. He stood in front of a window, staring outside. His cape lay nearby, draped over the back of a chair.
His hands gripped the window ledge, and his shoulders hunched forward. “You came,” he said, his voice ragged.
“Yes,” I replied. “Can we talk?”
He straightened and turned around to face me. I’d forgotten how intimidating and handsome he was. Clasping his hands behind his back, he asked, “What would you like to discuss?”
I took a tentative step toward him. “I’ve heard stories of what happened and how you came into power, but I’d like to hear your version.”
“How will you know if I’m being honest?” He strolled over to the fireplace, staring at the flames.
That was the problem—I had no way of knowing; yet, I was willing to take that chance.
“If I tell you my story, I want something in return.”
Of course he did. “What is it?”
Morlet motioned for me to move closer. We now stood only a foot apart. His bright blue eyes reflected the dancing flames, mesmerizing me.
“Come to the castle so we can end this together.”
Did he honestly think I’d willingly go to him so he could kill me? “Tell me your story, and I’ll consider it.”
He grinned. “No you won’t.”
“Never mind.” I turned to put some distance between us.
“Wait.” Morlet grabbed my arm. “Please don’t go. I need you.”
I glanced at his hand, surprised by his touch. He released me, his blue eyes revealing emotions he kept hidden from the world. Maybe he would open up and trust me, and then we could find a way to fix this mess without a fight or anyone dying.
Morlet reached out, cupping my cheek in
his hand. “What is it about you that I find so appealing? You’re by no means elegant or a great beauty,” he whispered. “You’re a Kriger—a warrior. Yet, I feel a desire to be near you.”
I swatted his hand away. “If you’re not going to tell me the truth, then I have no reason to stay.”
Two soft hands touched my neck, startling me. “Kaia,” Morlet whispered. “I’ve longed to tell you the truth, but I’m afraid of your reaction.”
We were only a couple of inches apart. His hands slid to my shoulders, sending a soothing warmth through me. “If you stay, then I will tell you everything.”
I stood on the edge of a great cliff. One step forward, and I’d fall to my death. I couldn’t remain on that ledge, always wondering, and never moving. Taking a deep breath, I said, “Okay.”
Once the word was out, there was no going back.
Chapter Thirteen
Morlet’s hands dropped from my shoulders, and he moved to the window, staring outside into the night. In the distance, tall apartment buildings were crammed together, lights flickering in a few of the windows.
“I’ve never shared this story with anyone,” he said, his voice barely audible. “No one has ever asked or cared before.”
Sitting on the chair next to his bed, I patiently waited for him to tell me what happened all those years ago.
“Quite simply, I’m Morlet Forseve—the dark force—because I fell in love with a girl.” He turned around, leaning against the window ledge, watching me closely. “Not what you expected, is it?”
I shook my head, unable to utter a single word.
A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “I met a commoner and fell in love. We wished to marry and have a family. When I sought permission from my parents to wed her, they refused. They said she was beneath me and not befitting for someone of my station.” He closed his eyes, lost in the painful memory. “Their reasoning didn’t make any sense. After all, I was only a second son, and my older brother was set to inherit everything. Why did it matter who I married? So we ran away,” he whispered. “I planned to defy my parents and marry her.” His eyes met mine as if he expected me to criticize him.
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