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Viktir turned and glowered at him. “I think you will find, son, that I can. You didn’t sign the marriage contract when I asked you to therefore, it can be disregarded. No real ink was put to paper in your name, only the coven’s.”

“I will sign it now,” Torin spluttered, finding his mouth didn’t move as quickly as he wanted it to. The air in his lungs thinned.

Viktir put out a hand and pointed to Emara on the bed. “And I don’t see a ring on her finger, the ring I gave to you to give to her as a sign of commitment. Do you see it?” He glanced over at his eldest son in a mocking glare that made Torin want to obliterate him where he stood. “Or is it still locked behind a door, just like your loyalty?”

Torin pushed forward, but Naya’s hand shoved against his chest in warning. “Stop!”

“You gave that ring to me before the Uplift.” Torin’s arm flew out in rage. “Before the late Empress of Air was murdered, before I even knew Emara would ascend or needed to ascend,” he barked.

“Yet moons have passed and I still see no ring on her finger, no real commitment to your cause. You have had long enough. I cannot trust you.”

“I—” Torin stopped before he told everyone of his intentions the night of the winter solstice. “Give me more time,” he pleaded. “Do not break the alliance between us. I don’t need long.”

The fact that he almost begged made him so unbelievably livid, and it seemed that his father liked it.

“You are too late, Torin.” His father’s piercing eyes drove a dagger through his heart just as much as his words did.

Torin knew that this was his punishment for not giving him every part of information he had on Emara or the stupid Resurrection Stone. It was his punishment for choosing himself over his commander, for choosing to protect Emara’s secrets over his own.

He always knew it was coming.

Torin thought his father would have whipped him, possibly tasked him with some hard labour, maybe some training that pushed his every limit. But never in a million lifetimes did he believe that his father would be this cruel, this vindictive, this outrageously manipulative.

Torin’s head dizzied, and his pulse hammered, slamming his heart into a frenzy.

“Don’t do this,” Torin begged his father through his teeth.

“Father,” Gideon choked out again, lost for words. “I can’t—”

Emara pushed off the blanket and stood. Torin looked at the floor in disbelief and then looked over to her. It hurt to even look at her as she looked from him to Gideon. Then her gaze set on Viktir, stony and fuelled with anger.

He begged shamefully as he turned to his father again and said, “Whip me, put me through anything mental or physical, anything. Just not this.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Emara’s voice was short, but Torin could hear the emotion crawling along her throat. He couldn’t look at her; if he did, he would crack and he would crumble.

Or he would wreck this entire fucking room.

“Viktir,” his mother said, “this is not something that needs to be done. The treaty was—”

“I think you will find, woman, that it does need to be done. Someone must teach him a lesson.” He threw Torin a look of sheer destruction. “He can’t disobey simple commands and not suffer the consequences.”

So it was about his punishment, not about what would benefit his clan.

“And what exactly do you think you are going to teach me by doing this?” The insatiable anger burned under Torin’s skin. “To be as cold-hearted and unreasonable as you?”

Viktir spun, coming nose to nose with him, and it was too late for Naya to work her way between them. “What you are about to learn is that when you cross your commander, you will live miserably until he says otherwise. I own you,” he ground out. “Until my dying breath, I own you, and then when you become the commander of this clan, I hope you will see what it is like to have a disrespectful, disobedient hunter under your lines.”

Hunter. Not son. Not family. Hunter.

“You can’t do this.” Emara’s voice cracked, and emotion flooded through, revealing how she truly felt. “I didn’t sign the contract just as much as Torin didn’t. If it is so easy to remove a signature, couldn’t we draw up another one? One that I could have a say in?”

Even in recovery, she was courageous and valiant. She wasn’t rejecting the alliance. She was trying to make it stronger.

Viktir looked her over. “I will find a way to force your hand, Emara Clearwater. I can be quite the diplomat when it comes to finding out where my opponent’s weak spot is. I have spoken with the prime, and they are in favour of Gideon taking you in marriage. Given your fiery nature, they see it as a more balanced fit.”

Emara began to shake, and anger spilled into Torin’s heart, replacing the hurt, washing it down. “If you do this, I will never forgive you.”

“I don’t need your forgiveness, Torin.” His father’s eyes narrowed. “I am your commander; therefore, the only thing I need from you are your skills, your obedience, and your loyalty. If I don’t have that, then you will quickly find yourself exiled.”