Page 34 of The Ever King

“Aye, My King.” She leaned over the rail of the ship, whispered words I couldn’t hear against the glass of the vial, then tossed it into the current below. A shudder dipped the ship and a ripple flowed over the surface of the sea. What did they do?

“Larsson,” Bloodsinger shouted. “Man the helm. I have aguestto see to.”

The crew laughed in such a way my blood chilled in my veins. Bloodsinger took hold of my arms and lifted them over his head. Once again, he had the scarf gripped and tugged me toward the stairs.

My breaths came sharp and desperate. No mistake, he’d slaughter me in front of his crew and send pieces of me back to my family, or he’d rape me, batter me, then do the first two things.

“You don’t need to do this,” I whispered.

“Ah, but I do.”

“Please.” Gods, I sounded pathetic, a fool to show how terrified I truly was. I clenched my teeth until they nearly cracked and straightened my bent spine. If I died, I would die with a blade in hand and a great deal of Bloodsinger’s deadly blood beneath my fingernails.

The crew moved aside for their king. I refused to meet any stares, refused to give them the satisfaction of my distress. His pace was swift, but he had a pronounced limp. The corner of my mouth twitched. I’d kicked him in the cart, and I took a bit of pleasure knowing it had done damage.

Beneath the deck with his wheel—or helm, as he called it—was an arched door. He shoved me inside a small chamber. Modest, with a narrow table covered in maps, and quills, and a cot. No quilts or furs, only a stretched piece of canvas tied with thick twine to heavy logs spiked into the floor.

Erik had to crouch to avoid striking his head on the doorframe. There he paused, and faced a few curious eyes of his crew. “Anyone enters without my say so, they lose their tongue.”

With that he slammed the door behind us. He removed the hat from his head and tossed it onto the cot.

I took a step away from him. Night Folk fae were not small in stature, but Bloodsinger was a force. Broad, formidable. The scars peeking out from his top brought a thousand questions I was certain would never be answered. Scarred and battered, still he moved like a man capable of lunging and striking without hesitation. A true serpent hiding in the surf.

I flinched when his hands went to the scarf. With an unexpected gentle touch, he unbound my wrists as he spoke. “Do you know why I took you, Songbird?”

“You lost the war and can’t accept it?”

He sighed and tossed the scarf aside. “I figured you were naïve, but I did not know you had no brains at all.”

The insult cut like a lash. I didn’t let it show. “Pity I can’t find a way to please you.”

The bloody, sunset shade of his eyes shifted to something like a fiery night. “I’m sure you’ll find a way. May I suggest watching your tongue around the one who controls how long you live?”

“Then you shall be disappointed.” I regretted the words straightaway.

Bloodsinger moved like a spark catching fire. His firm grip found my throat. I let out a breathless gasp when he touched the tip of his straight nose to mine. “Why fight me?Youcalled to me.” He ripped my sleeve apart and traced the mark on my arm with his thumb. “This is no coincidence that I find my emblem imprinted on you. Like you belong to me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. An accidental touch of—”

“Touch of what?” He grinned, the rough callus on the tip of his thumb traced the side of my throat. “Did you call to me through the Chasm? The only way I could sail through was if the wards were gone. I think you had something to do with it.” From under his tunic, Bloodsinger removed the silver swallow. “We’re bonded, you and I. From the moment you began your little tale.”

Acid burned in sick waves in my gut. “That was nothing but a foolish girl’s attempt to protect her folk. There is no magic to it, there is no bond. I feel nothing for you but hate.”

He shrugged one shoulder as if utterly unbothered. “Admittedly, I don’t understand how you have the rune, but it led me back to you. Face the truth, love, you fastened your own chain around your throat.”

I lifted my chin, heat flushed in my face. “I know you believe you must take vengeance on my family. I will not deny my father killed yours; we all know the story.”

“You knowthe story?” His voice rose to a near bellow. “The death of the Ever King is not some tale you read in your little books.”

“You despise us for the war, when it wasyourpeople who attacked first.”

“Only because your people slaughtered a king of the Ever.”

“Twenty turns ago, and only after Thorvald attacked one of our own.” Anger heated my blood. Thorvald had attacked an innocent woman, a cousin of mine, to be exact. I’d seen the scar left behind. Thorvald’s act of unprovoked violence spurred my father’s axe to find the sea king’s heart.

“I know well what my father did.” New shadows darkened Erik’s eyes. “I also know it was done afteryourfolk spent weeks torturing his heir.”

My retort dried like ash on my tongue. The scars on his neck, his lip, the ones clearly hidden beneath his shirt. Thorvald was killed before I was even born, ten turns before the great war. If what Erik said was true, then as a tiny child, he’d been tortured.