Page 58 of Dance of Kings and Thieves

She tightened her grip on my hand, her voice thick and low. “Kase.”

I didn’t stop; the words kept tumbling out. “My mesmer will grow stale because our family has nothing to fear. We grow old in the cottage, Mallie. We watch our children have children, and they never know what it means to be without a home. They never know what it means to thieve or kill.” I kissed the side of her head. “That is the life I dreamed during the turns we were parted.”

For a long pause, we said nothing. A new pain carved into my heart from a life that might’ve been. Then again, fate was never in our favor. We were destined to walk in shadows, to exploit, bribe, and wallow in blood.

“Kase,” Malin whispered.

“Yes?”

“You dreamed us a beautiful life.” She lifted my hand off her middle and pressed a kiss to the center of my palm. “But I am no less happy to share this life with you now.”

Gods, what I would do to see her have every dream, every bleeding hope, fulfilled. When she looked over her shoulder again, I gave her a smile as if I agreed. Truth be told, I did not see how it was possible for her life to be calm and lovely when her husband brought nothing but darkness and fear.

I did not know how this would all end, but I would fight for Malin’s beautiful life in a cottage by the fjord.

I would never stop fighting for it.

“Kase.” Gunnar rode up beside us. He rode a temperamental mule, and the glassy look to the animal’s eyes had me convinced he was using his mesmer a bit to control the beast. “We’re at the river caves.”

The mark where we’d drop the folk of House Vill. My insides clenched, but I offered a simple nod. I dropped my lips against Malin’s ear. “Now is the time to be honest with me. Are you able to run, should you need to?”

Her body answered before she did. Malin stiffened and looked away. “I feel much stronger.”

“Malin.”

Her chin dropped. No doubt her stubborn resolve battled against the vow she’d made to me. With a sigh, she gave in, shaking her head. “No. I could not run.”

I kissed her shoulder. “I do not keep you guarded to rule over you.”

“I know.”

Disappointment was heavy in her voice, but Malin knew the risks. She would not risk anyone we cared about to soothe her pride, but it would mean she would remain tucked safely between protectors as we made our way on foot to what remained of Jagged Grove.

I led our horse deeper into the trees where the others circled the rickety wagon we’d stolen from House Vill.

Eryka stood close to Gunnar. He whispered something in her ear that softened the worry lines splitting her forehead.

Her pale eyes caught mine as I guided the horse beside her.

“Hello.” She spoke with a cheery disposition, despite the quiver to her chin.

“Any last premonitions before we make this move?”

Eryka looked at Gunnar. He gave her a reassuring smile. “The stars have been rather timid as of late, but there is a deep . . . heaviness in my heart that this is the direction we must go. Literally.” She pointed toward the overgrown forest path leading into Jagged Grove. “We must go this way. Fate awaits us here.”

“Instinct,” Malin said. “Trust those instincts. I do not think your mesmer—glamour, I mean—is as quiet as you think.”

“As I told you.” Gunnar smiled at the fae woman and nudged her gently with his elbow.

Eryka had the look of snow. If we’d been in the thick of the frosts, she might disappear. Pale everything. But for moments under Gunnar Strom’s praise, a pink wash speckled her cheeks. “This is the move to make, but . . .”

“But what?” My voice came harsher than intended.

Gunnar shot me a glare which I returned tenfold.

Eryka shifted and looked to the sky. “I do not think it will be a comfortable road.”

My stomach knotted. Of course not. Why the hells would any of this be comfortable? The Norns enjoyed watching the pawns in their game suffer.