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Chapter seventeen

Fhord

I Can’t Do This

I can’t do this.

I don’t know why the fuck I ever thought I could.

I knew it when I felt Sifa’s conflict—her recognition of someone and need for revenge. When she turned and whispered her apology to me, I was pissed. But just for a moment. I can’t blame her. This place took something precious from her. I’d want to kill them all if I had the chance.

I let her chase her retribution, taking Thyra to the horses and hiding the guard before I went after my little rabbit. She’s strong and fast. I thought she’d be safe.

And then I felt her, barely breathing. My savage roared to life, desperate to protect our mate.

I was moments away from shifting—something I learned to control centuries ago—panic rippling through me. Because when I shift, the magic is like a gods-damned horn, blaring my location to the Dróttning, no matter how far away she is. And I’m not supposed to be anywhere near the Nest right now.

It’s been a long fucking time since I was so close to losing it.

My savage will always respond that way. If Sifa is in my life, the need to shelter her—to save her from any who would do her harm—will transcend everything. Maybe even my bond with Tindera.

I need to get the fuck away from her.

I need to keep my gods-damned priorities straight.

If I give in to my need for Sifa, Tindera and the ?tt will pay the price.

I almost wish we’d found someone else on our march back to the cavern, that I could have killed more of these guards. They’re fucking evil and the world would be better off without them. Maybe it would calm down my savage to take out some of the humans who caused Sifa so much pain. He’s thrashing within me, demanding sex or death. And sex is out of the question. I can never let myself get that close to my rabbit.

But we make it back without finding anyone else. She turns to me when we reach the cave, her eyes glistening with regret. Her hand reaches out to rest on my chest.

“I’m sorry. I can’t explain why I left, but it was important. I had to do what I did.”

“It doesn’t matter.” My voice is harsher than I want, and I regret the flinch it prompts from her.

Then I pull my shit together. If she cares for me at all, I’m going to hurt her. I need to destroy every last one of those feelings. It’s the only option.

Twisting, I start to walk in the direction of Thyra and the waiting horses. “We’ve done what Bevin wanted. We’ll stay together long enough to get out of danger. Then we’ll go our separate ways. I’ll get Thyra back to Bevin.” My voice is flat, empty.

Hers, though, drips with emotion. I can hear her heart in her words. “I understand. I wouldn’t want to travel with me after what I did, either.” She pauses and I resist the need to turn and look at her. “I’ll leave you when we get away from the Nest.”

I nod, keeping my eyes straight, away from her. It’s the only way this will work. The only hope I have of calming my savage enough to let her go when the time comes.

Thyra’s waiting for us next to Sigurd, ready to leave this place. She managed to change while we were gone, replacing the scraps prisoners wear with the soft, comfortable tunic and leggings I dragged from a pack before chasing after Sifa. I help her mount then pull myself up behind her, nudging Sigurd into a walk as I resist the urge to help my rabbit. But when I glance back, she’s hesitant to mount Hilde, looking down at one of her ankles. Guilt spills into my guts as I realize she’s hurt.

“What happened?”

Her gaze lifts and I see a hint of tears in her eyes. “It’s nothing,” she mutters. “I sprained my ankle. And may have broken a rib. I’ll heal soon.”

Dropping back to the ground, I dig through my pack for a bandage. “Let me help you.”

“It’s not a big deal, but I should probably wrap it before we go.”

“I’m going to help you, Sifa,” I tell her as I stride over. “Can I lift you onto Hilde without hurting you?”

Her lips tip up in a sad smile. “Just don’t grab me here,” she responds as she pats a spot on her side.

I reach for Sifa—wishing my gods-damned cock didn’t twitch from just being close to her—and set her in her saddle, then remove her boot and push up her pants. Her ankle’s swollen and discolored, but it doesn’t look broken. After wrapping it carefully, I draw her pants back down and shove her boot into one of her packs. “What about the rib?”

“It’ll just have to heal. It won’t take long.” She smiles—the same sad look as before—and runs a finger down my cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me, Fhord.”

I grunt and turn away because I cannot let her see the emotion her touch triggers in me. Mounting Sigurd again, I yank the reins and nudge him toward the cave’s entrance.

We ride in silence for the first hour or so, Thyra’s head resting on my chest, as if she doesn’t have the strength to hold herself up. Finally, though, she straightens her neck and asks the question she’s probably been pondering since we started.

“What’s up with you two?”

Sifa’s close enough for me to see her stiffen in her saddle, but she doesn’t answer Thyra. She probably knows, like me, that Thyra can’t know what Sifa did. Bevin would punish her. And then he’d start asking questions.

“Nothing,” I assure Thyra. “Something unexpected came up, and Sifa handled it.”

“Then why are you so angry at each other?”

“We’re not angry,” Sifa says quietly. “We don’t work well together. But we got you out. That’s what matters.”

Thyra scoffs. “I’ve been reading people long enough to know what this is,” she declares. “Don’t tell me if you don’t want to,” she adds after a moment. “I’m just grateful to be free. You can keep your secrets.”

The rest of the trip is silent. And heavy, the weight between Sifa and me increasing with every step. I’m aching to see the sky, let the emotions that seem to be trapped in the space around us find someone else to haunt. I’m aching to get away from Sifa.

Finally, a splash of sunshine appears in front of us. Thyra sees it at the same time and gusts out a sigh of relief.

“I didn’t think we’d make it, that I’d ever feel the sun on my skin again.”

“I wasn’t so sure either,” Sifa says from behind me. “Fhord’s done the impossible, it seems.”

“We’ve done the impossible.” She probably was more important than me in getting Thyra out. Which I’ll let Bevin know.

“How long until we can leave here?” Sifa whispers this question, as if she didn’t want to ask it.

“We’ll wait in this cavern until it’s dark,” I respond, looking anywhere except at her. “They’ll have doubled the sentries, at least, by now. It’ll be easier to get away when the sun’s down. From here, it’s about a six-hour ride to a safe place we can hide, if we move fast.”

“I’ll leave you both there,” Sifa says.

“Why?” Thyra spins in the saddle to find Sifa’s eyes.

I keep mine straight ahead, where they belong.

“Like I said, Fhord and I don’t get along well.” She pauses a moment. “And you’ll have a better chance without me. I’m pretty sure they think a woman acting alone helped you escape. They’ll be looking for two females traveling together.”

Fuck if my next words don’t come out before I can stop them. “We should go a little farther together,” I say, contrary to all my best intentions. My savage can’t let go. He needs to keep Sifa safe. Overprotective, meddling bastard. “We’ll be safer if we stay together until we get to a town.”

Sifa’s silent for so long, I nearly spin my head to find her. Finally, she speaks. “It’s a bad idea, Fhord.”

“Just until the first town. One night,” I insist as I give in and turn toward her. “You and Thyra can sleep. I’ll stay outside and keep watch,” I add for good measure. My savage rewards me with a grumble of approval.

I’m so fucking pathetic.

“Okay,” she says at last. “One night.” Pausing, she glances down and I realize she needs help.

“Wait there,” I tell her, my voice soft as I dismount. “Let me help you.”

“I can do it, Fhord. It’s not a big deal.”

But I need to do this for her. As angry as I am—as resolved as I am to push her away—she’s still my little rabbit. I can’t just let her hurt. So I help her down from Hilde and turn away.

Being close to her calms me.

And that is so fucking dangerous.

I cannot let myself find calm and comfort in Sifa’s presence.

I gather a few supplies for Thyra—water and food she should be able to keep down—then find a spot as far from Sifa as possible, where even her scent won’t reach me. When I lie down, my face to the wall, I will myself to relax. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep but I need to at least try.

We wait in another silence so thick it seems to drip down the surrounding walls. Somehow, I manage to drop off for an hour or two. My eyes fly open as the cave starts to dim, flipping over to search for Sifa before I’m fully awake. When I find her, something inside me relaxes. She’s sleeping, peaceful. I wish I could capture this moment and hold it forever.

When Sifa moves, I shift to stare at the rocks above us. I need to keep all these feelings to myself. Sifa can’t know how fucking hard it will be to watch her ride away.

“We should go,” she says as she sits up, stretching her arms above her head. And then I feel her gaze on me and I turn to look at her. “I’m ready for this to be over,” she whispers, her voice sad and distant.

“I know. I understand.” Standing, I pull together our things and stow them on the horses, then help Thyra mount Sigurd. I turn as Sifa does the same—her body healing quickly, as elves do—smiling despite myself at the nag Sifa somehow brought back to life for this journey.

She has that effect on everything she touches. Especially me.

Sighing, I mount Sigurd and jostle his reins to lead us into the night.

The first few hours are treacherous. Every fifteen or twenty minutes, we’re forced into hiding, sliding off our horses to crouch behind a rock or bush and wait, our hearts in our throats the entire time. Thyra’s exhausted within the first hour, her body so depleted she can barely hold herself up on the horse. More than once, I have to tighten my arms around her and keep her in place, her head dropping back to lay against my chest.

Three different times, I’m certain we’re going to be caught. The first group of soldiers gets too gods-damned close, and I can’t see an escape. My savage is roaring inside me to protect Sifa, but when I turn to her, I don’t see fear. She’s watching me, her brow furrowed as if she’s weighing a heavy decision. Just as I’m about to risk everything by using my magic when I sure as fuck should not—hoping I can kill our pursuers fast enough to stop them from sending a message to the Dróttning—they move away.

The second time, I understand. I shift my head to glance at Sifa after we’ve dropped to the ground behind a bush. Her face is twisted in concentration, eyes distant. She’s watching the guards approaching us, mouthing words I can’t discern. When they’re so close I know they’ll find us this time, her eyebrows draw together, her forehead furrowing as she whispers through firm lips, her jaw tight.

Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to look away from this stunning female. The knowledge that she trusts me enough to risk using her magic sends sparks up and down my spine. Every part of me wants to claim her right now. Mine , my savage rumbles, dragging himself toward the surface as he tries to take advantage of my need for our mate. Fucker.

Finally, they start to move away. Sifa nodding as her silent chant grows a bit less frantic, smooth and calm. When they abandon their search and turn from us, she relaxes, watching them ride away with a satisfied look.

“Holy fuck.” My voice is so low, I wonder if she’ll hear me. She does, spinning her gaze toward mine. “You’re so fucking incredible. I’ve never met another female like you.”

“And you never will,” Sifa responds with a wink. “Time to go.”

After we’re nearly caught for a third time, Sifa starts to wilt, the concentration required to send so many searchers away draining her energy. I wish I could take this from her, carry some of her burden. But I can’t do anything like this and we both know it’s necessary. The gods are with us, though. We’ve gotten far enough away from the Nest and haven’t run into anyone else.

By the time we find the cave that will shelter us, Sifa’s drooping. She and Thyra can do nothing but watch as I start pulling together a quick meal—a soup that will nourish us all—then prepare their beds. Thyra’s too weak to feed herself, so she and I work together to get a meal into her before I carry her to her blankets and tuck her in. She’ll be better after a good night’s sleep.

Sifa’s head is drooping when I return to the fire, but I’m relieved to see she’s finished her soup.

“What you did today,” I start, but before I can finish, her gaze is whipping up to find me. She’s wide awake now.

“What I did today is between us and Thyra,” she hisses, her nostrils flaring as her fingers stretch out and then curl into a fist. “We’ve both learned things about each other that would doom us.” She pauses, her eyes growing wide as she sees my surprise. And regret. Taking a deep breath, and then another, Sifa’s face softens.

“I will keep your secrets, to my grave,” I assure Sifa as I hold her stare, willing her to see my resolve.

“And I’ll keep yours.” Pausing again, she inhales and exhales one more time. “Sorry,” she says after a moment. “I’ve spent a lot of years hiding what I can do. You’ve seen more in our time together than anyone else in this world. I’ve put everything at risk being so exposed.”

“I know. I’ve done the same.” I reach out to take her hand, hoping the contact will help put her fears to rest. Peace washes over me as I feel my mate’s touch, perhaps for the last time. “This thing between us can never be,” I remind her—or myself—my thumb stroking the back of her hand. “We both have our reasons. But know this, my rabbit. I value your life as much as my own. I will never do anything to put you at risk. I swear it.”

“Sweet talker,” Sifa responds with a sad smile. “You know just what to tell a girl.” And then her face grows serious, her eyebrows moving together in the most charming expression ever. “I trust you,” she says at last. “And you can trust me.”

“I know.”

She watches me for a moment, then her chin dips as a sigh escapes. “Thank you, Fhord,” she whispers as she stands. “Sleep well.”

“You too, Sifa.”

The wailing wakes me. We stopped too close to the training grounds, I realize as my stomach clenches. I wonder if there’s any chance Sifa will sleep through this. After everything that happened yesterday, it’s the last thing she needs.

She doesn’t, of course. Within a minute, she emerges from the cave, fully dressed. Her eyes find mine and I can see the purpose in them. She’s going after the dragon.

“You can’t do this, Sifa. Nobody is allowed to interfere with training. Even other riders.”

“I just need to see the dragon. Maybe I can help comfort it, like I did before. I’ll stay hidden.”

I shake my head, standing as she strides in the direction of the screams. “It’s too dangerous. And we’re still hunted. You’ll risk everything.” Reaching out, I wrap my hands around her arms, turning her toward me. “This is part of dragon life. It’s necessary.”

She scoffs. “Necessary? That’s bullshit. Don’t give me the official line just because you ride a dragon. You know it’s wrong.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do. But you can’t change the world. Especially not now. Let’s finish this job, get Thyra back to Bevin. Then if you want to comfort a few dragons, you can come back alone.” My voice is cold, mean, but I can’t let myself care. She has no idea how much danger she’s courting.

“I don’t answer to you, Fhord,” she spits out. Then she pauses, her eyes starting to glisten. Lifting her hands to rest them on my chest she gives me a small smile, full of apology. “I can’t explain why—I don’t even know why, myself—but I know this is something I have to do. This dragon is calling to me. I must answer his call.”

“It’s the same dragon, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And he needs me. I have to go to him.”

“Fine,” I declare, lifting my hands in frustration. She’s so fucking stubborn. It’s a good thing we can’t be together. She’d drive me to an early grave. “But you’re not going alone,” I add, against every bit of my better judgment. “Tell Thyra what we’re doing while I throw some clothes on.”

Within ten minutes, we’re crouched behind a bush, watching the dragon and trainer approach. She was right. It’s the same red beast as before, and he’s every bit as traumatized as the last time we saw him. The trainer’s different—the Nest’s leaders will sometimes change a trainer if a dragon won’t submit to the Dróttning’s demands—but he seems just as cruel as the last.

The most stubborn dragons experience the greatest trauma as the punishments grow more and more extreme. This one looks to be as headstrong as the female by my side. The device holding back his wings is one of the worst I’ve seen. Every rider knows where the dragons’ most vulnerable spots can be found. This … abomination … is designed to carve into every spot on the wings—the dragons’ most sensitive area—shifting and tightening with each step.

I glance at Sifa. Her face has twisted as if she’s experiencing the dragon’s pain. She’s concentrating, all her focus on the beast and his trainer.

When the dragon turns his head, recognition sparks in his eyes. The trainer is striding ahead of him, the chain that binds the dragon’s powers dragging on the ground between them. Arrogant and cruel. He knows the dragon can’t break free and can’t imagine anyone interfering with his work.

Sifa’s going to do just that. I sense the shift in her emotions, the resolve that grows as she makes her decision. I turn to glance at her and my suspicion’s confirmed. Her muscles are tight, eyes alert, and lips set in a thin line. She turns to me and I recognize the apology in her expression.

Shaking my head, I mouth “no”. She doesn’t care. She already decided.

Sifa anticipates my reach, spinning away in the soft grass. Rising to her knees, her hands on her hips, she turns to look at me. “I have to do this,” she whispers. And then she’s by my side, her words low in my ear. “I don’t know why, but I have no choice. I must save him.” She pauses just for a moment, leaning her head back as her gaze finds mine. “They’ve nearly run out of patience with him. He’ll die soon. I can’t let that happen.”

“You must,” I tell her, my lips finding her ear. “This is the way of dragons.” I wrap my hands around her arms again, ready to hold her down if I must.

And then Tindera’s voice echoes through me. Stop . A pause, followed by, Mine . There’s no room for debate or disagreement. Those words were a command.

So I stop. Tindera has claimed this dragon that Sifa seems determined to save. He’s her drake—the dragon destined to be her mate—and the only being in this world who might matter more to her than I do.

I can watch or I can help. Tindera’s left me no other choice.

I sigh, a rock dropping into my gut as I decide to join Sifa in committing high treason against the Kastali.