Chapter 9

Ahuman in the woods is the last thing I need to deal with on top of this mess. One invasion after the other, my own heir being in danger, his nanny dead... This must be the most shameful reign this clan has ever seen.

I huff in frustration as I stomp through the grand doorway of the clan house, Ursha's steps trailing behind me. The clan house didn't suffer in the attack, but I can't say the same for many other houses.

The human on my shoulder weighs nothing as I drown out her nonsensical complaints. I make a beeline for the main hall. It's almost empty now, with everyone helping outside. The warm firelight flickers over the woven tapestries lining the walls, illuminating a welcome sight emerging from the shadows. My right-hand man, Zog.

His short beard almost covers up the beginnings of a bruise. His hulking frame slouches with exhaustion as he approaches in strides. His gaze slips right past me, and his shoulders drop in relief at the sight of Eirik.

"Thank the ancestors; the heir's alright." His gravelly voice catches as his eyes lower to the dead woman hanging from my hand. I lower her to the ground. "Masha, she..." He shakes his head, his eyes darkening. "In her memory, we fight."

"We fight." I take a beat. "Is she the only one? Or are there others?" Others I should have saved. Others I should have protected.

His lips tilt down and he doesn't even have to reply. Anguish twists like a knife in my gut. More lives lost on my watch.

Zog's black eyebrows shoot up as he notices my unusual cargo. He plucks his eyeglasses from his belt and slides them on. "Is that... a human? Where in the blazes did she come from?"

Where, indeed? There are no human villages nearby. And she was alone, deep in the Sacred Woods.

How? How did she get there? And why did she protect a child that's not hers? I saw the surprised look on her face when she saw Eirik's tusks, but she didn't let go of him. She still chose to protect him.

Half-turning, I catch Ursha's attention. She steps up next to me, Eirik slumbering in her arms, one of her red braids gripped tight in his little fist.

"Can you stay with him?" I ask.

"Of course," is her immediate answer.

I nod. "I shall relieve you as soon as I'm done here."

Ursha arches an eyebrow, turning so the hoops in her ears sway. "Don't worry. The prince is safe with me."

My jaw clenches. If Eirik had been with Ursha, poor Masha would still be alive. But as a king, I must make tough decisions, and Ursha saves more lives when she's fighting.

Or so I keep telling myself, but I get a few things right these days.

I jerk my head towards the hallway, meeting Zog's eyes. "Council room."

Zog falls into step beside me as we make our way to the council chamber. My steps echo in the empty corridors. Even the human has stopped whining.

The door creaks open and my gaze roams over the furniture. A massive oak throne, covered in several pelts, takes the center, while a rug covers most of the ground. The place is exactly as I left it mere hours ago, yet it feels like a lifetime has passed.

Zog closes the door as I deposit my feisty captive not-too-gently into a chair. She lets out an indignant yelp and raises her face to me.

What a strange human. I had never seen one like her. Granted, I have only known a handful of humans, but she's completely different.

The first thing I see are her amber eyes. They're almost gold under the light of the torches. Her black hair is thick and big and all curly, framing her smooth face, and her skin is dark as night. Her nose slopes gently, the round tip tilted up. Her full lips twist as she glares at me, her eyes flashing murderously.

It almost makes me laugh. How would she try to kill me? With her sharp teeth? Or her claws? She couldn't even punch me, let alone kill me.

But she's brave; I'll give her that.

"Found her in the woods," I tell Zog.

He shoots me a glance. "With the Wolfbones?"

I shake my head. "One of them tried to attack her. She fought tooth and nail to protect Eirik." I rake a hand through my long hair. "Including against me."

Zog's lips twitch in amusement, his gaze flicking between me and the fuming female. "I was surprised you had spared a trespasser, but it makes sense now." There's a glint in his eye that I'm not sure I appreciate.

I shrug, feigning nonchalance even as my mind whirs. Why did I let her live? The image of her lying down on top of Eirik, a child not of her kind, burns behind my eyelids. Such selfless ferocity is a rare thing. Respect and suspicion war in my chest.

Because strangers are never good news.

Clearing his throat, Zog approaches the woman. Her huge eyes bounce between the two of us. "Why are you here?" he asks, his voice coming out clear, the words slow.

She blinks at him, a scowl etched on her heart-shaped face. She parts her lips and utters a bunch of nonsense again.

I snort. As if it were that easy. Whatever language she speaks, it's not one I recognize.

Zog straightens again, crossing his arms. "What are you going to do to her?"

I don't reply because I have no answer. There's too much in my head. The invasion, Eirik, the people who died, and their families.

A little lost human is the least of my concerns.

My gaze swipes over the room. There's nothing she could use against us here. Blunted ceremonial weapons are the only arms in reach. And I don't think a creature as scrawny as her could lift any of them.

She says something else. Her voice is firm, but I recognize the twinge of fear. Either this woman is insanely brave and foolishly selfless, or she's part of some ploy.

It can't be a coincidence that she showed up amid the invasion.

My shoulders drop in defeat. This doesn't matter. Losing patience with the fruitless interaction, I stride to the door.

"Come, Zog. There's no time for this."

I could put her in shackles, but we take no prisoners here. She'll have to stay in the council room. Ignoring her outraged squawk, I pluck the key, open the door, and slam it shut on her furious face. The lock clicks. Not a second later, I catch the muffled sound of her pounding the door and screaming what I can only assume are colorful curses.

Gorbag materializes from the shadows—coming from the healer if the bandages are any sign. He presses a hand to his chest and bows to me.

"Can you stand guard?" I ask, but it comes out as an order. The usual when you're king.

Gorbag narrows his eyes at the sounds coming from inside the council room. "Of course. May I ask who's in there?"

"Trespasser."

Gorbag's brows raise. "And they still draw breath?"

It's Zog who answers, "It's a human."

Gorbag shakes his head. "So?"

I grunt, impatient to leave, to see how the others are faring. "That's of no consequence. Don't let her leave this room, but bring her food, water, and a bucket. No knives. I'll decide what to do with her later." I give him the key.

He nods, even as a crease appears on his forehead. "Yes, Chief."

Rubbing my aching temples, I turn away. I have a clan to look after and invaders to repel. The fate of one human female cannot take precedence, no matter how intriguing she is. My people come first. Always.

The human with the mysterious golden eyes will have to wait.