Page 45

Laughter, familiar and bubbling, filled the room as they all sat together for what felt like the first time in many months.

While the horrors of what had happened still lingered around them all, each person having a story to share, Herrick felt warmth swooping in his chest as he took in each of his friends— his family.

"There is something I've been meaning to tell you all since speaking with Sigurd," Liv said quietly when the conversation lapsed after they told Gunnar about Herrick's rescue.

"But I need you to understand that I was under a gag order until today.

Not that it excuses all the lies I've told over the years. "

Dread pooled in Herrick's gut. What more could there possibly be?

He glanced over at Hakon to see if his brother had any idea what she might be hinting at, but the guarded look he gave her only made Herrick's worry for him grow.

He had become silent the longer they all sat together, and an awkward tension was building between them.

He'd offered little to no detail about these last few weeks and only chimed in when their stories all aligned.

Gunnar eyed him with that knowing look that told Herrick that he was going to come down on their future King with all the candor he possessed once they were alone.

When it had been his turn to speak, Herrick told his friends a little about what had happened in the palace dungeons but found himself hesitating to give the full details.

Whether it was because he was still processing the events himself or because their group was missing a vital piece that Herrick felt acutely, he couldn't be sure.

"You can be open with us, Liv," Gunnar reassured her, his calm voice bringing Herrick back from his memories. "We promise not to be angry with you over something out of your control."

Herrick almost snorted— his friend, the ever present voice of reason in their group tying them together.

"Don't be so sure about that yet," she muttered before taking a deep breath.

The last thing he expected Liv to do was start speaking about Ahland's history and how the treaty was created after the Elemental War.

"Ahland was a desolate place in the days after the war ended," his friend explained, her ebony skin taking on a bright sheen to it that seemed to pulse faster the more she spoke.

Her light galder , he realized. "With the King of Light dead, the Elven retreated to Nida, leaving the human kingdoms the freedom to do what they wanted with the ruins of their lands. "

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hakon bit out, the venom in his voice cutting enough to make Liv wince.

"It means that the previous system that had been in place to elect rulers was dismantled and in its place, the Helvig and Kolbeck families drafted a treaty that protected their power.

The treaty you are all so familiar with, the one you hate so much, was put in place by your ancestors to ensure your families got to hold on to their rule. "

Liv spoke slowly but her words pummeled into Herrick with each syllable uttered until he was sure that the only thing left of him was the imprint of his soul on the Norns tapestry.

The treaty he detested, the one his mother pushed on him every chance she got when he and Maude arrived in Veter all those weeks ago, was yet another twisted and corrupt grab at control of the people of Ahland.

Except, this time, his ancestors had been complicit.

No wonder the gods were fighting against the treaty creation— the limitation of galder was something they would not stand for.

He thought of the family he'd heard speak at the people's court in Veter, how his mother brushed off their concerns and then chalked it up to infidelity.

Now more than ever, Herrick was grateful he went against his mother's orders for surveillance to be set up on the family.

They were innocents victims in a system his family had crafted two hundred years ago.

The Kolbeck's were just as much the villain as Helvig was.

A chuckle escaped him once before he laughed a few more times, his hands running over his face as the bitterness in the sound spoke volumes. Liv watched him, alarmed, while Hakon got up and left the room, which only made Herrick laugh harder.

"How could we not know about this part of our history?" Gunnar asked. Always the sensible one who knew the right questions to ask. Gods, how he'd missed that.

"The truth was buried by those who never wanted it to be found," Liv shrugged. "The Elven had long memories, but a part of my cover included being unable to discuss the true history of Ahland."

That explained why Liv had always been so cool towards his mother: she knew that their rule was a forced one.

"Does my mother know?" Herrick asked as the laughter started to die from his voice.

"I'm not sure," Liv responded warily.

"And Maude?"

Liv shook her head. It's not like they would know if she knew of their history— Maude never confided in anyone.

Resentment swelled in his chest before sorrow snuffed it out.

He was still furious with her about leaving him behind in Dagsbrun, her stubbornness that seemed to control every aspect of her decision-making, and the fact that she continued to push him away despite the walls that he thought had crumbled between them.

And yet, he had this need to tell her what Liv had confessed about their families .

The longer he spent away from her side, the more ridiculous this game they played became.

Herrick's very bones ached to get up and find her.

He continued to spiral down into his conflicting emotions about Maude when the fatemark on his chest burned, pulsing with a silver light similar to how it had glowed the day she had died in Logi only now it had a golden sheen to its edges.

Choosing to follow the growing dread in his gut, Herrick stood, his friends questioning where he was going so suddenly.

Before he could make it to the door, a knock sounded, and it swung open.

Filling its frame was a tall male, his deep, black hair hanging in loose waves around his broad shoulders.

Dressed in fighting leathers, the matte black swallowing any light that was cast on them, the male had weapons belted to each hip and across his back— two small axes, one on each hip, made from an obsidian metal that was unfamiliar to Herrick and a longsword with the pommel in the shape of a wolf's head strapped across his back.

Though it had to be impossible, Herrick was sure he was looking at Baldr for a moment before the differences in their features became clear— the shape of their face and their brows were similar, but this male was all angular where Baldr was smooth.

He tried to slow his racing heart, the pounding of his pulse in his ears almost drowning out the words being exchanged.

He was being ridiculous, his trauma was projecting Baldr's face everywhere the longer he swallowed the emotions that threatened to tear him apart.

Liv stood, her face tightening. "Aeric, what's going on?"

The Elven male named Aeric brought his silver eyes to Herrick, his gaze penetrating as it took in Herrick's wide stance and how his hands inched toward the axe on his belt. When the Elven finally spoke, it was to him.

"I hear you are the man my daughter rushed to free from the grips of Harald Helvig."

His voice was dark as the night, the musical tilt to it sounding ancient and grave as he stepped forward to assess Herrick further.

"Your daughter?" Herrick asked, his voice sounding dull compared to the Elven in front of him .

Herrick glanced at Liv, sure that she had said her father had been killed. Her face hard, she shook her head slightly before motioning for him to look forward again.

The air became heavy, the silence growing as Herrick felt the fates swirling around them.

He brought his eyes back to Aeric, but the Elven male was now looking over his shoulder at the most recent arrival behind him.

Feeling like the floor was about to give out beneath his feet, Herrick took one staggering step forward toward the King of Shadow's daughter.

The pieces of information, the last few months he had spent at her side, began to click into place for him as his mind raced to catch up with the stark truth that stood in front of him.

She had her hands on a short sword that was strapped to her hip, her shoulders thrown back in that way that always made Herrick's blood race because of her strength.

Now, side by side the Shadow King, he could see the similarities.

Their skin tone, the way their noses sloped, the confidence in their stance.

Still wearing the matte black fighting leathers she had taken to wearing, her deep wine-red hair, almost violet in the soft lighting of the hallway, spilled over her shoulders in a wild tangle.

When it had been revealed that she was the Heir of Flame, she had been shaking and paralyzed with fear from the outing of her secret.

Now, the shadows of her true kingdom swirled protectively around her legs as she seemed to fit into the space around her.

He'd guessed she must have been part Elven. But not the daughter of an Elven king . This moment in time had been orchestrated by the gods, the final answers to the question of who she was fitting into place like a puzzle piece that completed the bigger picture.

The Heir of Shadows.

His eldr .

Maude.