Chapter 15

The next time I opened my eyes, the cabin glowed with morning sunlight.

And Sigurn pressed against my back from shoulder to thigh, his body fitted to mine like a spoon. My breath hitched as I registered his slow, even breaths stirring my hair and his arm lying heavy across my waist. Through my layers of skirts, something hard and very large prodded my ass.

I held my breath, torn between trying to ease from the bed and thrusting my hips back. Pillows scattered the floor. Which one of us had tossed them overboard?

Sigurn murmured something unintelligible and pushed his nose into my hair, breathing deep. His arm tightened around my waist, and he rocked his hips, lodging his dick more snugly between my cheeks.

I bit my lip as desire flared. At the same moment, an idea took shape in my mind. I needed allies. Unfortunately, I wasn't certain I could count on Lord Ulred's help. Even if I had knights willing to back me, I couldn't lead them into battle.

Will you teach me to be a warrior like you?

It takes a man's strength to wield a broadsword.

Ronan had looked so indulgent when he said that. He'd promised to teach me everything. Maybe he'd taught me more than he realized.

Steel isn't the only kind of weapon.

My heart pumped harder. I didn't have a man's strength. But I had other weapons.

Something bold and wicked stirred within me. Power. But it was different from the kind I'd worked my whole life to master.

No, this was far older. Moisture flooded me, and a fierce ache built between my legs. I wanted Sigurn Brighthelm. I'd wanted him from the beginning. I wasn't sure what that said about me, but I couldn't seem to care. Not now, with his warrior's body pressed against mine and his heat scorching my skin through the layers of my dress.

At the same time, guilt twinged in my chest. Despite everything, I loved Ronan. He'd been the first of everything for me. My first teacher. My first crush. My first sexual partner.

But the Ronan I loved was just a version I'd created in my head. The real Ronan plotted treason while my father lay dying.

Resolve joined the rush of blood pounding in my ears. Why not take what I wanted? Ronan certainly had. He'd taken me so he could take my crown. I had the means to get it back.

I shifted in Sigurn's arms, rolling my hips as I let a breathy moan ease from my lips.

He tensed, instantly alert behind me. A split-second later, he snatched his arm away and sat up.

I rolled to face him, then lifted onto my elbow and placed my palm over one of his solid pecs. His heart thundered under my hand, and his brown eyes dipped to my chest, where my nipples puckered under my gown.

"Liria…" he rasped, his expression pained.

I moved my hand to his beard and stroked. The short hairs were like silk, and I moaned for real as I imagined how amazing they'd feel rubbing on my breasts.

But, no. I could do better.

"I want this between my legs," I whispered, tugging gently.

Sigurn groaned. His eyes slid shut, and he shuddered hard. "Liria… We can't."

"Why not?" I took his hand and guided it to my breast. "Please touch me."

"You're a maid," he said. "I?—"

"I'm not," I said, thrusting my chest against his hand. "I'm not a virgin, Sigurn. Please. I'm willing to beg."

His eyes flew open—and they burned with lust. He squeezed my breast, his calluses catching on the fabric of my gown. "You've had a man?"

"Yes." I tugged his free hand to my mouth and closed my lips around the tip of his finger, sucking gently. "But I haven't had you."

"Fuck." His eyes went heavy-lidded. "Show me how you'd suck my cock."

Considering I'd never sucked anyone's cock, I had no idea how I'd perform that particular task. But maybe solid effort could make up for experience. I mimicked what I liked on my clit, alternating between gentle flicks of my tongue and hard pulls of my mouth. Then I bobbed my head, swirling my tongue over his finger.

"Enough," he rasped, pulling his hand away. "Gods, Liria, you'll make me come in my pants like a lad."

Emboldened by his praise, I pressed my hand against the prominent bulge between his legs. "Please don't, my king. Save it for me."

He sucked in a breath as he caught my wrist. The bed creaked as he bore me onto my back and angled his big body alongside mine. He propped himself on one forearm and used his free hand to fondle my breasts through my gown. "I can smell how wet you are, woman."

My pussy clenched in anticipation. At the same moment, a little trill of fear ran through me. His ancestors had chosen well when they picked a bear as the symbol of their house. Sigurn was a powerful bear of a man.

And I'd stirred him from his slumber and put myself in his path. But I couldn't turn back now. I had to see this through. And not only for the alliance he could bring me. I wanted him. Now that I'd let my attraction toward him sizzle into arousal, my body was on fire.

Eyes locked with his, I slid one leg up, bending my knee and then letting my thigh fall wide. My nipples tightened, and the delicious curl of fear intensified as I reached down and drew my skirts and chemise to my waist. I'd left my drawers and stockings off when I went to bed, and I boldly offered myself now, pressing my knee to the mattress. "Are you sure? Maybe you should check."

He cursed softly as he stared at my pussy. The bed creaked as he ran his palm down my mound to my lips that felt so slick and puffy under his intense gaze. "You're bare here," he murmured.

Self-consciousness twinged. "My people are this way. It can't be helped."

"Mmm." He stroked down my center, making little sparks fire over my hot, aching flesh.

"Do you…like it?"

"I fucking love it," he said throatily. Using his thumb and forefinger, he spread my pussy wider. As my breath hitched, a deep growl rumbled in his throat. "You're glistening," he rasped. "Soaked. Your eager little clit is swollen between your lips, Liria." His dark eyes raked up my body to seize my stare. "Your gorgeous cunt looks so hungry for a cock."

Gods, his mouth. Why was I surprised? He'd been provocative from the moment we met.

"Starving," I said, pulling my knee higher in invitation.

He was on me in half a second, his hands shaking as he turned me and fumbled with my laces. The cabin filled with the sounds of our harsh breaths and the creaking bed. He moved me effortlessly, his dark eyes searing every inch of bare skin he uncovered. Within minutes, he'd stripped us both, and then he pushed me onto my back and climbed between my thighs.

My heart stuttered at the sight of him looming over me. Somehow, he was even bigger with his clothes off. And he was different from the men of my people in almost every way. Dark hair dusted his forearms. A thick, curly mat of it covered his chest. Golden skin stretched over bulging muscles crisscrossed by scars. Battle wounds, I realized. His shoulders were a maze of old injuries—thick, puffy lines and puckered gouges. A shiny weal in the shape of a half-moon marred the skin around one of his flat, pink nipples.

But his scars didn't detract from his appeal. On the contrary, the marks enhanced the primal maleness that clung to him like a second skin. My mouth went dry as I let my gaze wander down the thin line of hair that trailed from his rippling abs to the thick bush around his cock.

If it could be called that. Surely, there had to be another name for the battering ram between his legs.

A panicked sound escaped me as he settled over me with a thick forearm next to my head. He used his meaty thighs to shove mine wider, then gripped his shaft with his free hand and dragged the bulbous tip up and down the furrow of my sex. His chest hair tickled my breasts, and his dark eyes pinned me in place as he stroked his cockhead from my clit to my opening.

"So wet," he grated. "Your pussy is making the most beautiful sounds, Liria."

My clit throbbed even as my trill of fear became a pounding drum. I'd never taken anything his size into my body. But his cock felt so good against my pussy, each grazing pass over my clit wrenching my need higher. I splayed my hands over his chest as I dug my heels into the bed and wantonly worked my sex up and down his shaft.

His growl vibrated the bed. He pressed one hair-roughened thigh against mine, stilling my movements. "Not yet, greedy girl. Your pussy has more to say to me."

Heat crackled through me. I writhed beneath him as he rose onto his hand, giving me a clear view of his meaty shaft and heavy, crinkled sack. He wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and squeezed, a breathy grunt breaking from him as moisture glistened at the tip of his plump crown.

"You've got me leaking for you, Liria, with your pretty pussy so pink and wet for me." He ran a smoldering gaze down my body, his dark eyes stopping on my splayed sex. "Touch yourself, Princess. Let me hear how much you want this."

"Sigurn…" I moaned, desire and embarrassment swirling into a potent, volatile mix that sent a blush stealing down my chest.

"Do it."

Gods.Breath hitching, I thrust my fingers between my legs and stroked. I was drenched, and soft smacking sounds filled the cabin as I circled my clit just the way I liked. Goosebumps lifted on my skin as pleasure undulated through me.

"Gorgeous," Sigurn rasped. "Now give me a taste."

More heat blasted me as I lifted my fingers to his lips. He sucked them into his mouth, and his eyes went heavy-lidded as he groaned deep in his throat.

"More, sweetheart. Keep feeding me that honey."

I was going to combust. A blush spread down my heaving breasts as I obeyed him, swiping moisture from my entrance and lifting it to his lips. He sucked my fingers clean, then demanded more…and more, greedily devouring my arousal. His lips grew shiny, and his cock dripped precome onto my stomach. The powerful muscles in his shoulders pulled taut as he held himself effortlessly above me.

"Fuck," he rasped after a moment, licking his lips. "I could sit you on my face and eat your cunt for hours." For a second, he looked like he intended to do exactly that. Then he shook his head as he stared longingly at my spread sex. "But I really need to fuck you." He lifted glittering brown eyes to mine. "I need inside, Princess. Say yes."

"Yes," I moaned. "Hurry."

He looked like I'd just given him a priceless gift. He wrapped his arms around my thighs and yanked me into him. As I gasped, he stretched his body atop mine, gripped his dick, and pressed his cockhead against my entrance.

His heat seared me, and I clutched at his broad shoulders as I pulled my knees higher. "Slow."

"I'll take care of you," he murmured, tenderness flickering among the flames of lust in his eyes. He bent his head and kissed me. Like everything else about Sigurn, it was big and bold. Thorough and sensual. He used his tongue like a weapon, plunging and stroking. Parrying my thrusts as he fed my taste into my mouth. Just when I thought I had him figured out, he closed his teeth over my bottom lip and tugged gently. When I whimpered and pressed my body more tightly to his, he released me and licked the sting.

Then he started all over again. When I was breathless and moaning, half out of my mind with need, he pushed inside me.

"Gods," I breathed, my lips brushing his. "It's…" Words failed me as he eased his hips forward, sinking deeper. Stretching me. My pussy clenched at the invasion, my muscles spasming as I struggled to adjust to his size. Heat and pressure suffused me, the slight burn of his entry shifting into a tingling promise of pleasure.

He pulled back, his dark eyes intense as he watched my face. "Is it too much?"

I shook my head, still robbed of speech as I absorbed the sensation of being completely, inexorably filled. Sigurn left me with no space of my own. He was everywhere, his big shoulders caging me in and his heavy groin pressing his cock deeper…and then deeper still. The sparkling hint of pleasure swelled. Eager to capture it, I wrapped my legs around his hips.

He groaned and dropped his head forward. "Liria," he rasped, his voice strained. "I won't be able to stop."

"I don't want you to." Summoning all my strength, I slid my arms around his ribs and tugged him into me. With another groan, he thrust forward, seating himself to the hilt. His hot, heavy sack rested against my ass. His thick pubes pressed against my aching mound, the sensation indescribably intimate and wickedly alluring.

His heavy exhale ruffled my hair as he pressed his lips to my temple and spoke against my skin. "Sometimes, I think you must be a witch."

I ran my fingertips over a rigid scar on his sweat-dampened shoulder. "Even if I were, I don't have any magic here."

"You're wrong," he said, his breath caressing my cheek. "You're pure magic, Liria. Every last, luscious inch of you." He held himself still, letting me adjust. His cock throbbed inside me, every vein and ridge pressed tightly against my walls. After a moment, he kissed my cheek—just a featherlight brush of his lips. He kept it up, skimming my forehead, my nose, the curve of my brow. My breath came in little gasps as he rained his gentle, fleeting kisses. He touched the tip of his tongue to one eyelid, then the other.

Then he started to move.

And he was graceful with it, his hips rolling in a sinuous glide at odds with his bulk. I moaned at the surprise of it. The raw, scintillating pleasure of it. He came down over me, his elbows pressing into the mattress on either side of my head as he looked into my eyes and began to thrust.

"So fucking beautiful," he growled. "Damn, the way you're gripping me. So hot and tight around my dick." He lifted off me slightly and looked down, his gaze fixed on his cock sliding in and out of me.

I moaned as the tingling pleasure spread, turning my limbs heavy and languid. The angle was wrong for his cock to brush my clit, but it didn't matter. Pleasure built—water rising behind a dam that couldn't possibly contain it. My lips parted as I realized I might actually come just from the force of his shaft driving into me.

He looked up, and he must have read my thoughts, because he lowered his mouth to mine and spoke in a low, filthy voice against my lips. "Do you like this big dick, Princess?"

"Yes," I gasped, my pussy clenching as he continued grinding in and out of me. "Gods, yes."

His eyes glittered. "You want more of it, you have to ask. Understand? You said you were willing to beg. Let's hear it, sweetheart. Beg me to fuck you. Ask me to spoil this sugary little pussy the way it deserves."

If I could have turned my head, I would have looked to see if the ends of my hair were on fire. As it was, I was left staring into Sigurn's eyes as his dark, decadent words set me ablaze. "Spoil me," I panted, absorbing his thrusts. "Please, Sigurn. Give me everything."

"Whatever you want." He thrust harder, rocking the bed and maybe the whole cabin. "Anything you want."

I clung to his biceps as he withdrew to the tip only to slam back inside, his balls slapping hard against my ass. The forbidden spanking made me gasp and then arch, my body wordlessly demanding more. He'd unleashed some wild part of me—something that hadn't existed in Ishulum. And maybe it couldn't. Maybe, it had taken a dark-eyed prince beckoning me across the Covenant for that part of me to rouse and lift its head. Whatever it was, it was fully awake now, and I knew it would never slumber again.

And I didn't want it to. I crossed my ankles behind Sigurn's back as I dug my nails into his shoulders. "Harder," I ordered, hearing how rough my voice had become. "Fuck me, Sigurn. Make me yours."

Triumph and possessiveness flared in his dark eyes. He seized my lips again, plunging his tongue as he deepened his thrusts. His scent enveloped me, filling my lungs with leather, cedar, and clean sweat. After a minute, he broke off the kiss and hooked my legs over his shoulders. The position folded me in half, splaying me wide open.

A choked cry broke from my throat. He responded with a feral growl, his expression savage as he surged into me over and over. The tendons in his neck stuck out, and sweat dampened his brow. Even as he pummeled me, I sensed he held himself in check. Gods, what would it be like if he truly let himself go? I wasn't sure I'd survive it.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his eyes on my bouncing breasts. "Exquisite." He reached between my legs and rubbed my clit. "Come for me, sweetheart. Let me see it."

His callused fingers stroked in tandem with his command—and the floodgates opened. I shuddered as waves of ecstasy crashed over me, Sigurn's name a scream on my lips.

"That's it, girl," he rasped, working my clit faster. "Oh, fuck, you feel so good. You're going to make me come." His words ended on a deep, masculine cry, and then he was shaking above me, his dark head thrown back as he pumped his scalding release deep inside me. It went on forever, hot jets flooding me. When he finished, he tumbled beside me and rolled me into his arms, his twitching dick slipping from my pussy. As we panted against each other, he pushed my hair off my flushed face and kissed the curve of my eyebrow. Hot come trickled between my legs as he smoothed one big palm up my thigh to my ass and squeezed gently.

"Are you all right?" he breathed against my forehead. He slipped his hand between my legs and stroked gentle fingers down my sodden, throbbing sex. "Did I hurt you?"

I pulled back enough to look at him. "No." I shivered, aroused all over again by his questing touch. "That was…"

He lifted his hand to my cheek, then ran it to the pointed tip of my ear. When I shivered again under his caress, tenderness gleamed in his eyes. "Perfect," he whispered.

* * *

An hour later,conflicting emotions gripped me as I watched Sigurn prepare breakfast. I'd set out to seduce him. Instead, I'd connected with him in a way that went far beyond sex.

No one is ever going to make you feel like I do.

Bitterness rose as Ronan's words flowed through my head. Wrong, Glesso. Sigurn had certainly made me feel. More importantly, he hadn't betrayed me by fucking me and then conspiring to steal my birthright.

But I didn't have the luxury of exploring any kind of relationship with Sigurn. I couldn't stay in Andulum. And he had a kingdom to run. How could I ask him to risk his crown for mine?

"I hope you're ready for the best breakfast of your life," he said without turning from the hearth, where he stooped over a bubbling pot.

I straightened in my chair, shyness settling over me as I stared at the damp hair curling at his nape. He'd hauled snow inside and warmed it, then left me alone with a shallow copper tub deep enough for a sponge bath. When I'd finished, he'd washed in the tepid water as I made the bed and tried not to sneak glances at the wealth of nude, golden skin on display before the fire. I hadn't been terribly successful.

"You said the same thing about your tea," I said, tearing my gaze from his neck.

He grunted as he pinched something—salt from the looks of it—from a small container and threw it into the pot. "The tea was child's play, Princess." He glanced at me, all unabashed arrogance. "This is a masterpiece."

I shook my head, a smile pulling at my lips. "Do you like cooking?"

Another grunt. "I'm good at it." He pulled another container from the mantel and added a second pinch of seasoning to the pot. "Living in the field for as long as I did, it was either learn to make something palatable or survive on cold beans and stale bread."

My gut twisted at the reminder of how much he'd sacrificed to secure his family's legacy. "Are you sure you won't let me help you? I feel bad just sitting here while you do everything."

"If I let you help, you might discover my secret recipe." He ladled some kind of steaming liquid into a bowl and carried it to the table. The scent of herbs and broth hit my nose, and my stomach released an angry-sounding growl.

Sigurn chuckled. "You like it already. That's a good sign." He went to the cabinet and returned with spoons and leftover bread from the night before. He placed everything in front of me, then gestured to the bowl with his chin. "That's a soup we make for breakfast in Nordlinga. We call it eldbitr."

I looked from the thick, brown broth to his smiling face. "What does that mean?"

His smile became a grin. "Soup."

We laughed together, which went a long way toward dispelling my shyness. He fetched a bowl for himself, then watched me carefully as I lifted a spoonful and blew over the soup. The first bite brought an explosion of creamy broth with a combination of flavors that immediately made me want to devour the entire bowl.

"This is amazing," I said, dipping my spoon again.

"Skella,"Sigurn said softly, an equally soft smile playing around his mouth.

My heart skipped a beat. "Skella."

He pushed the bread toward me. "It's even better when you soak your bread in it first."

I followed his lead, and we ate in companionable silence, both clearly reluctant to disrupt the peace by speaking of the reason I'd showed up in his cabin.

But we couldn't stretch the meal out forever, and eventually, Sigurn pushed his empty bowl away and met my gaze across the table.

"What am I going to do with you, Princess?"

My heart sped up. Because his soft smile was back, and his brown eyes were as tender as they'd been when he pressed his body to mine and said he'd take care of me.

I licked my lips. "I don't expect you to do anything."

His gaze was steady. "Well, that's going to be a problem."

"It is?"

"Mmhmm." He spread his hands. "Doing nothing means letting you go. And that's not an option for me."

Everything within me stilled. I stared at him, big and gorgeous in a shaft of sunlight that put little gleaming specks of red in his thick, dark hair. "What are you saying, Sigurn?"

"I think you know." He shook his head, something both bashful and self-deprecating in his expression. "Gods, Liria, I've been half in love with you since the moment you stepped through the Covenant."

I held my breath, not daring to believe it. But how could I not? Sigurn was a man of honor. A king. Even the books in my father's library revered him. And now he was pledging himself to me.

"What…?" I began, my head spinning. "How do we?—?"

The temperature in the cabin plunged. On the table, the water in my cup froze. Ice crackled as frost scurried down the window next to the table.

"It's Ronan," I gasped, my breath forming a small, white cloud. I stood so abruptly that my chair crashed to the floor.

Sigurn surged to his feet, his jaw taut as he grabbed his sword belt and buckled it on.

"I don't know how he's doing this," I said. "He shouldn't be able to use magic here." But he was—and he was coming. The Sword of the North.

The glass on the table shattered. I jumped backward, but not before a shard embedded itself in my hand. Blood dripped down my finger and plopped on the floor. Instantly, it froze.

Maybe Ronan had changed his mind about marrying me. Maybe he'd come to kill me.

"I have to go." As wings of panic beat in my chest, I turned and blindly rushed for the door.

"Wait!" Sigurn surged forward and caught my arm. "I have enough magic to summon storms. Squalls and blizzards. If we get you to Castle Nordlinga, I can keep him away. But you can't go through the forest. You'll be too easy to track. The river is better."

"Where is it?"

"Come on." He grabbed the blanket from the bed. Then he hurried me from the cabin and into the forest.

I didn't dare look back as we raced through the trees, our breath like smoke in the air. Leaves crunched under our feet as the temperature continued to drop. After a few minutes, frost climbed up the trees.

"He's close!" I gasped, a stitch forming in my side.

Sigurn grabbed my hand. "It's right up here." Seconds later, a wide stream shimmered between the trees. He led me to a small dock with a rowboat tied at the end. "Get in," he ordered, unwrapping a rope from a wooden post.

Hiking my skirts, I scrambled into the boat and sat on one of the narrow planks that served as a seat. "What do I do now?"

Sigurn dropped the thick coil of rope onto the dock. "Get down. I'll throw the blanket over you. Stay down, all right? This river flows straight to Castle Nordlinga. The current is strong enough to get you there without rowing. I'll meet you as soon as I can."

Questions raced through my mind. What if I arrived before him? How long would he take to reach me? But getting answers would take time I didn't have, so I huddled on the floor of the boat and ducked my head. Sigurn tossed the blanket over me. A second later, the boat lurched as he pushed me away from the dock.

Water splashed gently, the sound accompanying the thumping of my heart in my ears. I stared at the floor of the rowboat, my world reduced to the blanket's shadowy cocoon. Float. All I had to do was float and then wait for Sigurn to meet me.

Abruptly, the boat jerked so hard, I had to grip the sides to keep my balance. A masculine voice drifted on the frozen air, followed by the sound of branches snapping.

Something tugged the boat again…and again. I was moving toward the shore.

I flipped the blanket off and sat up just as Ronan and his knights emerged on foot from the trees.

Sigurn didn't appear to notice the threat behind him. He continued hauling the boat to the dock, one foot braced against the wooden post and a hard expression on his face.

"Sigurn!" I cried, confusion and fear pounding in sync with my heart. "Drop the rope!"

He ignored me and kept pulling. Ronan strode forward, his blue gaze meeting mine across the water. His tattoos blazed with power, and his expression was as chilling as I'd ever seen it. His knights advanced behind him. There were at least a dozen men, all dressed in the silver armor of the Winter Guards. Thick battle braids fell to their waists. Their eyes were cold as they surveyed the river.

I jerked my attention to Sigurn. "Let me go!"

He kept pulling, his face like a mask. Somehow, Ronan held him in thrall. That was the only explanation. Ronan was two hundred years old—and the son of an ancient. Maybe Sylvar had passed on some kind of knowledge that allowed Ronan to use his gifts in the human lands.

As the boat neared the dock, I darted my eyes to the water. But it was hopeless. If I jumped, my skirts would weigh me down.

Two of Ronan's knights fell into step beside him. Captains' badges adorned their breastplates. I sat rigid on the seat as they trailed Ronan to the dock and stepped onto the planks. Ronan held my stare as the boat's bow touched the dock.

I lifted my chin. "If you kill me, Winter will curse you."

Sigurn stiffened.

Irritation flashed in Ronan's eyes. "No one is dying today, Liria." He turned to the knights at his shoulder. "Help the princess from the boat."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

My stomach dropped.

My father is dead.

Ronan took the scepter.

Numbness settled over me, and I didn't fight as the knights reached into the boat and gripped me under the arms. They hauled me onto the dock, their long braids swinging. Sigurn stood silently with his hands at his sides. His passivity snapped me out of my malaise, and I jerked from the knights' grip and glared at Ronan.

"Release Sigurn from whatever hold you've put on him."

"I've done nothing," Ronan said.

"Yes, you have." I turned to Sigurn, worry gnawing at me. "How do you feel? Can you speak?"

He swallowed. "I can speak." He flicked his gaze to Ronan, naked hostility burning in his eyes. "But I'll do nothing else this day." He shouldered past the knights and strode from the dock.

My jaw dropped. Sigurn addressed Ronan as if he knew him. But he couldn't…could he?

Ronan looked at me, his expression unreadable. "Come. We've lingered in Andulum long enough."

"What is going on?" I demanded, but Ronan was already walking away. The knights who pulled me from the boat hovered on either side of me, ready to compel my obedience. Angry tears burned my throat as I lifted my skirts and followed Ronan. I'd left Winter as his ward. Now, I returned as his subject.

Long moments later, my anger and confusion multiplied as we approached the Covenant. Ronan walked beside me. Sigurn strode on his other side, his eyes on the barrier. He didn't slow.

The knights walked behind us. The Covenant shimmered, its blue glow dimmed by the bright morning sunlight.

Sigurn walked straight toward the barrier. He was going to run into it.

Ronan took my arm, but I barely noticed. I only had eyes for Sigurn as a horrible realization hovered at the edges of my mind. Sigurn kept pace with us as we approached the Covenant.

And walked through it.

I stumbled and would have gone down if not for Ronan's grip on my arm. He stopped, steadying me as I gaped at Sigurn.

Sigurn stared back at me, unnamed emotions in his eyes—one of which had turned a pale, icy blue.

The same as Ronan's.

But that wasn't the only difference.

Above the neckline of his thick, padded jacket, a faint line of dreadravens decorated his skin.