Page 15 of Ties of Starlight (Tethered Hearts #2)

T here is something wrong with that girl.

Inga couldn't believe how well this life was going. She'd been waiting and waiting ever since she'd married Olvir for something to go wrong. For her to mess it up again. For an enemy to come in and kill them.

But so far, she'd been perfect. And now with the Heava Dance complete without a hitch, they were halfway there. Maybe this would be the time it finally stopped. Maybe this would be her last life.

She finished the glass in her hand and handed it off to the closest servant. When she looked up, her eyes traveled across the crowd and landed on Captain Bror. She lifted her chin, banishing the shiver that threatened to race down her spine at his cold, sharp look.

She could not fathom what she'd done to make him despise her so much, other than the fact that she had human blood, which their people needed. But he'd always looked at her like that, like she was something he so desperately wanted to have beneath his boot.

She supposed the greatest crime she’d committed was going and being selected as Gytha’s chosen so she’d no longer be his favorite maid to harass and humiliate. Still, he was King Hrorr’s brother, and the last thing she needed to do was provoke either of them.

So, she turned on her heel and decided to just wait in her tent for Olvir to finish socializing for the night and come join her.

She looked over her shoulder to see Bror was slowly following her, gaze locked onto her, and she picked up her pace until she came flying into the tent.

A sharp gasp filled the air and she whipped around to see Olvir sitting on the bed, an elf in his lap, skirt hiked up past her knees, her hands in his hair, and the ties of his shirt undone.

“Lady Inga, I didn't see you there!” The girl gave a breathy laugh, her hair loose and knotted.

“Inga, I can explain—” Olvir started, but not really making any move to dislodge the girl on top of him.

“Explain? How can you possibly explain this? How could you?” Inga's voice broke as she gestured at them. “ Again?”

“Nothing's really happened—” the girl started, hands shifting to his shoulders.

“Get away from my husband!” The strength of her own voice nearly shattered her ear drums as she grabbed the girl and ripped her away.

This was where the memory always blurred in Idonea's dreams. But there was a dagger. A scream.

Her being thrown.

Then blood.

Her next clear memory was her dropping the dagger and falling to her knees beside Olvir, crying out for help as she pressed her hands to his chest, trying to stem the bleeding. But it was too much, it was far too much, and the life left his eyes. The girl was also already gone, dead on the ground beside them. The red was staining the front of Inga’s dress, all over her hands and up her arms as her whole body viciously shook with sobs.

Then someone was kneeling behind her. A hand brushed her shoulder.

“Oh, Inga...”

Bror.

“I—I di—” And then a blade was piercing her chest, and she could see the tip and feel the steel in the back.

A metallic taste filled her mouth as a hand gently brushed her cheek and tucked her hair back. She choked as Bror pulled her back, turning her to face him and cradling her as he killed her.

He held her with one arm, the other still brushing her hair back, cradling her cheek. “You know I had to. You killed two elves. I didn’t know your human blood was this strong.”

She could do nothing but choke.

“You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on.” His hand stilled, and fury passed over his face. “And the most repulsive. It's better this way.”

She didn't understand.

He'd stabbed her, and yet he was holding her like he cared. But at the same time, he spoke like she was a rabid mutt.

His thumb brushed over her temple like a lover.

“I don't know how you did it,” he whispered, grip tightening on her as if he was afraid of losing her. “I hate you. I hate your filthy human blood. And I hate myself more because I have been burning alive, but now I'll be free from you.”

He pulled the blade out, and she reached for the wound, but she was too far gone .

Bror just pulled her closer, pressing her to him, hand sinking into her hair.

“You're better off this way too.” His fingers ran through her hair, breaking the net of pearls and sending them scattering across the ground, into the blood. “Believe me, you would not have wanted to live after this. I’m sparing you, lily. I would not have rested until I owned you, and you would have despised me as much as I despise you.”

Then she breathed her last.

Until she came back two hundred years later in time for the comet's return.

Idonea woke from the memory with a rough scream she quickly cut off. She dug her hands into the ground, focusing on her breathing to try to steady her racing heart. The letter was on the ground beside her.

And just looking at the paper tore her open again.

Olaug didn’t love her.

He had abandoned her.

The one person who was supposed to love her—the only person she cared about finding her desirable—could not stomach being married to her. She'd known—Bror's words to her confirmed it, if her other lifetimes hadn't shown just how repulsive she was to most elves. But Olaug was supposed to be the one who was different.

In their first lifetime, on their wedding night, when she’d been terrified, and he’d been little more than a stranger, he'd told her she was beautiful, unlike anyone he'd ever seen before.

That was the moment she'd fallen in love.

And now she was something to escape.

She'd tried so hard to be perfect for him. But it wasn't enough. It couldn't make up for what she'd done in her past life .

And she still had no idea what she'd done in that one that had caused him to cheat on her.

She reached for her bag, pulling it closer and taking out Bror's account of what had happened. The first time she'd read it, after discovering she was Inga too, she'd been shocked at the way Bror had told the story. She remembered all that time in the castle, working as a chambermaid, his disgust, his hate, how he'd called her a mongrel. But in his account, he spoke about her with a respectful indifference.

Then she remembered her death, and his words as she bled out in his arms. His version of the story was nothing like it.

She read it over again, the passage where he claimed he stabbed her because her savage human blood had taken over and after killing Olvir and the other elf, she was trying to kill him. Once he’d put her down, he'd gone to alert his brother.

Cold indifference.

It hadn’t been her fault she was human. The violence was in her blood. It was her nature. Who could truly be surprised Olvir’s actions had caused her to snap? How could someone hate a creature for their very nature?

She looked back at Olaug’s letter. No sob came up this time.

He didn’t love her, not in this life. Killing him in their past one must have ensured it.

She was empty. Completely numb.

She was still sitting there when the tent shifted and Nyrunn returned. She braced herself—this was Bror's nephew, after all.

But his face was ashen as he took in the sight before him. He looked exhausted. Devastated.

“I'm sorry. ”

Idonea blinked. She hadn't expected that.

She also didn't expect him to kneel on the ground in front of her, push the letter out of the way, amidst the mess, and pull her into his arms.

She gasped, but no dagger came this time. It was just Nyrunn's hands on her back as he pulled her into his lap. “I shouldn’t have done that, but I let my anger get the best of me. I'm so sorry. I kept that letter from you for so long because I just wanted to protect you. I didn't want you to read what he wrote about you.”

She was perfectly still, but she did let him pull her close, resting her head against his chest. Her voice was hoarse as she rasped, “Why?”

“Because it's not true.”

How naive her king was.

“It is.” Her voice cracked, but there was nothing left to break. “I deserve it. I can't ever get it right. I always do something that drives him away. Why can’t I ever be good enough for him?”

One of Nyrunn's hands started running up and down her spine. “Don't say that.”

She let out a soft huff of laughter. “Is that an order?”

“No,” Nyrunn said, but then he was shifting and within seconds she was in his arms as he stood up, carrying her over to the bed. “But this is: rest.”

She curled a hand into his shirt as he moved to put her down. It was the strangest thought, but she was too weak to fight it off. She didn't want him to go.

He wasn’t Bror.

Nyrunn…

This feeling flooding her, coming from the other side of the bond, she’d never felt it before. Not in all her lifetimes. She couldn’t quite make it out…

But she was safe with him .

She didn't have to say a word; she just looked up at him. His gaze shifted, and then he was following her. She was in his arms again, curled up against his chest.

“I don't understand,” she whispered.

Nyrunn shook his head, arms around her as she rested her palm against his shirt. “You'll drive yourself insane trying to understand that coward.”

“Not him.” She looked up. “You.”

His hand was shifting up and down her back again, gaze soft and warm. Bror had never looked at her like that. Had Olaug?

He asked, “What about me?”

She licked her lips. “All of you. Why? Why would you care about protecting my feelings?”

“Will you believe me if I tell you?” he whispered. “Or will you call me a liar?”

“Don't lie and I won't call you a liar.”

“You have no ability to tell the truth from lies.” His grin was bitter, seeping into his words. “You are all backwards.”

Maybe he was right.

“All I've done is lash out and accuse you of terrible things. I'm half-human.” She pulled her palm away from his chest, curling in on herself even as she stayed in his arms. “I'm... I'm a danger to everyone.”

What if she snapped like she had last time? What if Nyrunn said the wrong thing and she lost control?

His hand came up to her jaw, tilting it up to face him. “You didn't attack Lady Katla. You were tearing at your birthmark, and she tried to stop you; that's how she got scratched. Then she slapped you and sent you to the ground. She claims she was trying to snap you out of it, but I have my doubts.”

Really?

Still, Idonea knew what she was capable of. Even if she hadn’t attacked Lady Katla, that didn’t mean Nyrunn was safe.

His hand fell to her shoulder, fingertips tracing lower, around the scratches and her deathmark. “The only person I'm concerned about you damaging is yourself.”

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, leaning into his arms.

His hand stilled. “For what?”

“Everything. For the fact I drove Olaug away and now you're stuck taking his place, being married to me.”

His grip tightened and his eyes burned as he caught her gaze. The fire of his fury struck her right in her chest. “He left because he is a selfish coward. Not because of you. That's why I didn't want you to read that letter. He doesn't deserve the privilege of that. His filthy words and lies have no place in your head.”

He couldn't understand. He would never understand. So Idonea stayed silent and just focused on the sound of his heartbeat.

As she fell asleep, she thought she heard, “And for how little it's worth to you, you are more than enough for me. I'll show you. I'm never going to abandon you.”