by Amy Pennza
“That’s it,” Hauk murmured. With gentle hands, he rolled her to her side and patted her back. She coughed and sucked in a few deep breaths. He brushed the hair back from her forehead, speaking to her in a low, encouraging voice.
An ugly emotion rose within me, making my shoulders tight. I looked away.
Pounding footsteps made me turn. Olaf and several others ran toward us, their faces pale and anxious.
“She’s fine,” I said, stepping forward.
They brushed past me, their attention on Maja. A couple trainees bringing up the rear cast me nervous looks.
Hauk stood and addressed Olaf. “Take her to the infirmary and call Professor McBride. These welts need compresses.”
“Yes, Headmaster.” Olaf motioned for two others to step forward. Together, they lifted Maja and headed toward the castle, their pace slow but steady. She moaned once, then fell quiet, her brow furrowed. Puffy welts dotted her skin like white candle wax.
I moved out of the way. As they passed, Olaf met my gaze. The vitriol in his brown eyes was so strong, it almost knocked me back a step.
Confusion swamped me. Did he think Maja and I had dueled? The staff still lay in the grass. Maybe he thought I’d used it to wound her.
Silence settled around the tower as the group made its way toward the castle, Maja’s long black hair trailing nearly to the grass.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Hauk pulled me around to face him. “Why did you tell the nettles to attack her?”
What? My jaw dropped. For a second, I was speechless. With a deliberate motion, I tugged my arm from his grip. “Are you deaf? I told them to leave her alone.”
His jaw tightened. “Watch your tone.”
“Watch your accusations.”
He reached for me again.
I snatched my arm out of the way. “If you grab me again, I’ll scream.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he stayed put. After a second, he said, “I’ll ask you again, why did you tell those plants to attack?”
“I didn’t!” My voice came out louder and higher than I intended. I cleared my throat and tried again. “You heard me.”
“I heard you speaking in some kind of foreign tongue.” He frowned. “Hissing and . . . clicking.”
Clicking? I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Plants and trees don’t speak.” As soon as I said it, I realized that wasn’t really accurate. I groped for an explanation. “I mean, they do, but not like we’re used to. They don’t use words.”
His frown deepened. “I want to believe you, Elin.”
“I’m not lying!” Frustration bubbled inside me. How could I prove my innocence when I didn’t even understand what he was talking about? Worse, the nettles were dead, which meant they couldn’t exactly testify on my behalf.
This was a problem for Asher. I licked my lips. “My uncle is a satyr and a dryad. He’s hard to reach, but I can ask—”
Hauk held up a hand, then grasped the back of his neck. “Maybe later.” His expression was hard, almost pained. “Elin, this is a serious matter. Maja’s heart wasn’t beating when I first touched her. As I’m sure you know, killing another berserker is a death sentence.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Hauk, I didn’t—”
“I know. I’ve heard what you said. And based on what I know of your character, I have no reason to doubt you.” He dropped his hand, but his expression remained tense. His gaze searched mine as if he sought some kind of reassurance there. “But rules are rules. With an incident like this, I have no choice but to notify your father.”
“Oh no.” My heart stuttered. “Don’t do that.”
“I have to. I serve at the pleasure of the Rage Lords.” He gestured toward the castle. “Besides, several people saw Maja’s condition.”
My insides were like water. Once Harald learned of this, who knew how he would react. He already thought me incompetent and unfit.
But I couldn’t ask Hauk to break any rules for me. I was in deep trouble. There was no need to drag anyone else down with me.
I swallowed my misery and nodded. “I understand.”
For a second, it seemed he would reach for me. But then he turned and retrieved the staff from the ground. “I’ll hang on to this for now. In the meantime, I think it’s best if you stay in your room.”
“All right.” I forced my chin up. It was the only way to stop myself from crying—or throwing myself at him and begging him to make everything better. I couldn’t ask that of him, not even after the week we’d shared.
And right now, that week was looking more like a memory than a promise for the future.
Misery was like an anchor in my gut.
For a moment, the same misery seemed to shade his eyes. Then he cleared his throat and pointed toward the castle.
“Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
8
House arrest sucked.
I sat on my desk, my forehead pressed against the window as I gazed at the darkened courtyard. It was hard to know how much time had passed since Hauk delivered me to my room, but it had to be at least six hours. I’d tried to measure the time by marking the sun’s trek across the sky, but I ended up confused and frustrated.
Still, dinner had come and gone—chicken again, from the smell of it—which meant it had to be around eight or nine at night.
No one had brought me dinner.
I looked at the door. It wasn’t locked, and Hauk hadn’t said I was a prisoner, but something told me I could expect a cold reception if I showed my face in the Great Hall. He’d been silent on the way back to my room. I’d forced myself to stay quiet, even though a dozen questions had crowded my mind. Maja’s taunts had echoed through my skull, until I wanted to grab Hauk and demand answers.
Who was his father? Why would I never be good enough for him?
Most importantly, what had he intended to ask me?
And, after today, would he still ask?
A yawn swept me, and my jaw cracked. I tipped my head back, resting against the stone that framed the window.
Someone knocked on the door.
Hauk? My heart raced. I sat up. “Come in.”
The door opened slowly, and Olaf walked in, his demeanor cautious.
I let my shoulders slump. Hauk had sent Olaf. Was that good or bad?
Olaf gazed around, a frown wrinkling his forehead.
“Up here,” I said.
He jumped and looked toward the sound of my voice. When his gaze found me, his frown deepened. “What are you doing up there?”
“Thinking about escaping.”
His lips parted.
“Just kidding.”
The frown deepened more. I thought about sharing Fiona’s warning about faces getting frozen in a certain expression, but I bit my tongue.
“The headmaster wants to see you in his study,” he said.
My stomach did a nervous flip. “Okay.”
“I’m supposed to escort you there.”
Wonderful.
“Right now,” he added.
I suppressed a sigh and slid off the desk. My boots hit the floor with a thump. I’d removed my ponytail so I could pass the time braiding and rebraiding my hair. It lay over my shoulder in a heavy fishtail plait. For a second, I considered unraveling the mass and throwing it in a ponytail, but I discarded that idea. Olaf didn’t seem inclined to wait while I fussed over my appearance.
Besides, what did it matter what I looked like? Hauk had hardly seeming in a flirtatious mood earlier.
I tugged my jerkin into place and looked at Olaf. “Lead the way.”
By some miracle, we didn’t see any other trainees on the long walk to the headmaster’s tower. Olaf maintained a stony silence as we wound our way through the halls and up and down stairs. A comforting numbness settled over me.
Because I’m used to this.
The realization hit me like a blow to the gut. All my life, I’d been scolded and reprimanded. As a child, I�
��d quickly learned to stay quiet as Harald lamented my lack of abilities. And when my power had manifested at last, only to rocket out of control over and over again, I’d mastered the trick of concealing my emotions as he reminded me how very disappointing I was.
So right now? It was just more of the same.
We reached the statues. Olaf stopped in front of them, one hand out to hold me back. As if I might saunter past them, flipping the bird as I went.
The statue on the left rumbled, and its eyes shone with blue light.
“Elin, daughter of the wood. What mischief have you made today?”
How was I supposed to answer that? I gnawed my lower lip.
Olaf sent me a look of warning.
I had to fight not to stick my tongue out at him.
The statue made an odd sound—like rocks tumbling over each other. It seemed to regard Olaf for a moment before turning its gaze on me.
“You may pass, and take that one with you. But remember, shieldmaiden-who-walks-in-bough-and-bower. The raven watches.”
Okaaaaay. I glanced between the statues. “Thanks. I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.” I caught Olaf’s eye and jerked my head toward the steps.
We got halfway up when he whispered, “What was it talking about?”
“No idea.”
Hauk’s door was ajar, and the sound of deep, masculine voices drifted onto the landing.
Shit. He’d already summoned Harald.
My throat went dry, so I couldn’t even manage a squeak of protest as Olaf brushed past me and rapped on the wood.
Hauk’s voice called out. “Enter.”
Olaf pushed his way in, then looked back at me, expectation on his face.
I walked forward, my heart thumping so hard I wondered if he could hear it.
Harald rose from one of the dusty guest chairs as we entered, his icy gaze zeroing in on me right away.
But I barely registered his presence, because there was another man in the chair to his left. As if he sensed my scrutiny, the man half turned, then stood. He was tall, and his sword and dress gave him away as a berserker. He wore his black hair long, half of it tied back from his face. It was a handsome enough face, if a little arrogant. Black stubble covered his cheeks and chin. His gaze roamed over me.
My scalp prickled—odd because the man was a stranger.
So why was he looking at me like he was taking my measure?
“Elin.” Hauk spoke as he stood from behind his desk.
I met his gaze. “Yes? Headmaster,” I tacked on hastily. It felt wrong to call him that, the title almost foreign on my tongue.
“Your father wants to speak to you.” He glanced at Harald, who still watched me with poorly concealed contempt. “Alone.”
I looked between him and Harald, and I couldn’t help darting a quick glance at the black-haired stranger.
Yep. Still staring at me.
“All right,” I said.
An awkward silence fell over the room. Hauk coughed into his fist, then circled the desk. He paused by Harald’s chair.
“I’ll just, um, leave you to it, then.”
Harald inclined his head. “Thank you, Sigridsson. We’ll only be a moment.” He looked at me. “My message for Elin is thankfully brief.”
I ground my teeth together. Couldn’t he save his derision for when we were alone? I was used to his dickery. Having an audience made it intolerable.
Hauk’s eyes found mine. The deep blue softened, filling me with a familiar sense of calm and reassurance. A smile formed in my mind.
He gave me a short nod, then walked to the door, grabbing Olaf by the shoulder as he went.
The door clicked shut.
Harald’s stare bored into my back. My mental smile faded. I took a deep breath and faced him. He remained standing, as did the man beside him.
What happened to talking alone?
“So you’ve disgraced yourself and your house again,” Harald said.
I folded my arms.
He stepped around the chair, light from the chandelier reflecting off the sword hilt poking over his shoulder. His eyes were like two chips of ice.
“Nothing to say?”
“What do you want to hear?” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded weary. Fed up.
His nostrils flared. He took another step toward me. His leather great coat creaked as he rested one hand on the sword belt at his waist. “I must admit, you’re certainly efficient. It only took you one week to bring shame on House Berregaard.”
I held my tongue. There was no use arguing with him. Once he warmed up to a lecture, he was like a force of nature. It was best to just ride it out and wait for everything to blow over.
He went on. “Attacking another student—a berserker—is an unpardonable offense. Under any other circumstances, my fellow Rage Lords would call for your execution.”
A shiver bolted down my spine. But I forced myself to stand still. He’d said any other circumstances. Did that mean there were special ones in this case?
“For some reason I can’t fathom, Headmaster Sigridsson has chosen to vouch for you. He claims you acted in self-defense.”
My heart swelled.
“However, you can’t remain at the academy.”
I flung my arms to my sides. “What? That’s not—”
“Silence!” His low growl was more of a hiss.
The stranger shifted, drawing my attention. Our gaze met and held.
For some reason, another shiver scrabbled across my skin.
Harald spoke. “Given Sigridsson’s reputation and pedigree, I must take him at his word.” The against my will floated in the air, even if it went unspoken.
My heart sped up. Whatever he had to say next, I wasn’t going to like it.
His cold stare burned into me. “As I’ve long suspected, you’re not fit to be a berserker. However, you do bear my name. As my only heir, you stand to inherit my lands and estate, as well as my position.”
I held my breath. My heart pounded so fast the room seemed to tilt. Was I on the verge of passing out? That would definitely impress Harald.
He curled the hand on his belt into a fist. “I refuse to leave my legacy in your hands. Thus, the only solution is to see you wed and bred, preferably as soon as possible.”
Wed and bred? Had he really just said that? I shook my head. “Wh-What are you talking about?”
“This is Einar Nyström.” He gestured to the black-haired man. “He’s Lord Nyström’s son and heir.”
I looked at Einar. “Congratulations. I’ll jump from the Dragon Tower before I’ll agree to marry you.”
Harald made a gurgling sound. As I swung my gaze back to him, I realized he was literally choking on his own rage. For a second, it seemed he might clench his teeth so hard his jaw cracked.
As a bonus, his anger served to help me regain my focus. The fuzzy feeling dissipated as I watched him struggle not to lose it.
Eventually, his self-control won out. His eyes shot daggers at me as he spoke. “This isn’t a matter for discussion. I’m your sire as well as your liege lord. I don’t need your consent to arrange a marriage.” He swept my body with a scathing look that left me feeling oily and soiled. And when he spoke again, his words were obviously meant for Einar.
“She’s half-nymph, a breed of Fae known for its talents in bed. As you can see, she’s appealing in the way of that race. I trust you won’t have any difficulty breeding her. She has few redeeming qualities, but fertility shouldn’t be a problem.”
My stomach dropped. Had he just read off a list of my attributes as if he were selling a prize cow at a fair?
Somehow, I managed to speak without screaming in rage. “You’re forgetting something. If you force me out of berserker training, I’ll never gain my immortality.”
The look he gave me was entirely devoid of emotion. “I haven’t forgotten. You’ll age slowly. That should give you some comfort—and Lord Einar enough time to do his duty.”
His words wormed in
to my brain—hateful and rotten. I opened my mouth, but no response came.
For once, he’d left me truly speechless.
He turned to Einar. “I’ll give you a moment to get acquainted, assuming you wish it?”
Einar’s voice was deep and respectful, verging on ingratiating. “Thank you, my lord. With your permission.”
Harald nodded. Then he looked at me. “You’ll stay at the castle, in your room, until the Proven you wounded recovers. Sigridsson believes it will take the weekend. After that, you’re to return home and prepare for your wedding.”
“I won’t marry him.” The challenge in my voice was clear as a bell, but I didn’t care. Let Harald do his worst. He’d already humiliated me.
He closed the distance between us, then stared me down, forcing me to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. For an agonizing moment, it seemed he would strike me.
It took everything I had to keep my feet rooted in place. I clenched my fists at my sides and held his stare. Our faces were so close I could see my own pale eyes reflected in his.
“You will,” he said, his voice hard as iron. “You’ve failed as a berserker. You’re not fit to swing a sword. Your mother was good for one thing, and she did it well. I trust you’ll follow in her footsteps.”
If I’d had a knife, I would have plunged it into his gut. He must have seen murder in my eyes, because he backed up a step. Then he seemed to realize what he’d done, because his white-blond eyebrows pulled together. Without another word, he gathered his coat around him and left the room.
The room was still. I stayed where I was. Maybe if I stood in the same spot long enough, the castle would eventually crumble around me.
Maybe it would take me with it.
Someone cleared his throat.
Einar. My intended husband.
Nausea rose in my throat.
Slowly, I turned my head toward him.
He opened his mouth—
“Wait.” I held up a hand. “Before you say anything, there’s something you should know.”
He gave me a perplexed look, but he didn’t talk.
“Just so we’re clear,” I said. “I will never, ever marry you. And if Harald somehow succeeds in forcing me to an altar, you’d better never fall asleep. Because I will chop off your balls and feed them to you.”
