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The clan had never fought for me before, not like Runehall’s people had prepared to do. Toke’s children had been the warriors among the Caed generations ago, back when our lands had been threatened and fighters had been needed. When other nations had come out of the trees and demanded our shores, it was Toke’s men who had stepped into the fray. We’d beaten back our foes, and the other clans had lauded us for it. It was our glory, even now. The stories we told and the heritage we were proud of.

But when it had come down to me, it was Runehall’s who had come with weapons raised. A Caed clan willing to fight another Caed clan. Unprecedented and unimaginable. They would fight to see a dead man’s daughter returned to his home.

The clan of warriors past had not found cause to do battle.

They’d formed a union instead.

A girl and a boy, a rushed ceremony, an easier way out.

And I could hardly blame them.

This was why I could not expect more. I reminded myself of it as I heaved into the waves once again. My clan wanted to keep me with my mother and out of Runehall’s grip, but they didn’t believe I belongedenoughto fight to keep me. Roan was all they’d offered me. He was theirgift to me.

But I didn’t want him.

Still cloaked in darkness, we caught up to the rest of the fleet.

By the time we reached the Hinterlands three days later, I was exhausted. I stood in the center of the new village, and I hated every inch of it.

It was too big. The sheer size of it was enough to make me nervous, and the buildings were so new that I realized for the first time just how old our past village had been. This one was all fresh wood and tight stones and bright paint. While most of the huts had been built with sod roofs back home, the men had favored slate here. And the main road had to have been twice as wide.

Damn and hell. They’d been at this build for months, probably since the thaw, and they’d kept it quiet the whole time. They’d decided amongst themselves. They’d done all the work and laid all the plans. Then they’d come for us, breaking the news and expecting us to smile and abide. They’d not been disappointed.

I glanced at the faces on the surrounding road. Every way I turned I saw the joy, heard the excitement as friends talked of new huts and better barns and lusher pastures. Children ran by laughing, one shouting to his companions about the size of the smokehouse. Worst of all, proud men walked hand-in-hand with wide-eyed women, pointing out details and telling stories that did their fair share to charm.

I was quick to look away.

I trailed behind Roan, both of us with our things slung over one shoulder, and Goose followed me. I was sure we made an odd procession, a contrast to the warmth and celebration surrounding us. We seemed onour way to a funeral while the rest of the village planned for a festival. It felt fitting.

Roan led us through strange streets like he’d walked them a hundred times before—because of course he had—and it was a trek. He didn’t speak, and neither did I. When we were on the far outskirts of the village, as far away from the hustle and bustle as could be, he walked up to a hut with a front door painted a color that was both blue and green.

“This is it,” he mumbled, readjusting his pack so he could grab the handle. He hesitated. His eyes tracking the sky, he pulled his hand back and straightened.

I shifted my weight.

“What?”

He looked back at me like he was surprised to find me still there.

“Just waiting for the ravens to pass,” he said, looking back to the skies. “They’re a bad omen.”

I tilted my head and caught his meaning, three black birds making slow circles high above us. Oh, this man would be the death of me.

I reached around him, grabbing the door handle and pushing it wide myself.

“Your name means ‘raven’,” I told him. “Stupid, superstitious ass.”

He frowned. “Really?”

He considered the birds one more time before giving in, ducking under the door frame and sinking into the dark.

Despite all my bravado, I hesitated on the threshold as well. The last thing I wanted to do was follow Roan in there, but it was the only thing I could do. Goose darted in while I hummed and hawed, apparently curious to see what was inside, so I followedbehind him.

And I’d be damned if my mouth didn’t drop before I could think better of it.

It had two beams instead of one, and there was a ladder that led to a loft. The floor was not packed earth but actual wooden planks, as if this were the elders’ meeting house and not some simple hut. Roan was unshuttering a window in the back, then made for the side wall, unshuttering yet another.Two of them. There was a nice sized fireplace and some logs set up for seating. In front of me, a table, not quite finished. It was twice the size of my old one, and I could see it was in the process of being sanded.

Gods, how I wished I could stretch out map after map over that surface with no husband around to see it.