Page 45 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

First, she had to find a way to get rid of this blasted rune etched onto her wrist. Then she would secure an escape plan. And probably hide out for the rest of her life.

She didn’t like the latter part of her plan. Her whole reasoning behind joining the Royal Guards had been to make a place for herself in society. But that plan had fallen through and she doubted the military could offer her a semblance of that—especially not with the Hunter’s Association now a part of the military and with Sijur’s sinister plans for her.

As much as she hated to run away from all the work she had done, she didn’t have a choice. She’d rather be alive than not. And she would rather hide away somewhere than be forced to enslave people.

All those thoughts swirled in the back of her mind. In order to figure out how to break the runes, she’d have to get close to Joran and ask him about the books he had read and learned about rune magic through. There had to be something that she could learn from them. A clue.

Kolfinna was so wrapped up in her thoughts that when they arrived at the base, she didn’t notice the iciness of winter’s clutches over the fort, even though the weather had warmed now that they were in the tail end of winter. Even when she stepped into the lobby of the fort, the rest of the group with her, she didn’t notice the familiar chill inside the building. It wasn’t until Herja squealed and ran past her that she snapped out of her thoughts.

Her gaze drew to the center of the lobby and her breath caught in her throat.

Blár Vilulf was here.

He was speaking to another soldier, but everything surrounding him distorted away until all Kolfinna could see was him. His midnight, tousled hair, his ice-blue eyes that reminded her of a frozen lake, his muscular frame that filled out his dark bluish-gray uniform. Her breath stole away at his beauty. At his unexpected visit here.

That image shattered when Herja flung herself into his arms. He stumbled back while she giggled, hugging him tightly. His eyebrows arched in surprise, and his hand rested casually on her upper back as he gave her a pat.

Then, to make matters worse, Herja went on her tiptoes andkissedhim on the cheek.

He didn’t push her away. Didn’t even look disgusted. Only looked down at her with dark lashes. Not a flicker of surprise lingering on his face—like he was used to this.

Herja backed away and laced her hands together in front of her. Her cheeks were rosy as they began talking. Kolfinna couldn’t hear what they were saying. She felt like someone had splashed cold water all over her face.

Kolfinna’s chest tightened painfully—more painful than her broken ribs had been two days prior. It felt like someone had stabbed her with an ice-cold dagger and had twisted, twisted, and twisted until her heart couldn’t take it anymore.

This must’ve been the reason Herja didn’t like Kolfinna. It must be the reason Blár had come back here. He must’ve been in a relationship with Herja. There was no other reason why Blár Vilulf wouldn’t push her away at the kiss. He had hugged her back. He hadallowedher to kiss his cheek.

The Blár she knew didn’t like people invading his personal space. He didn’t like casual touching. He didn’t like people hovering over him.

Ivar clapped Blár on the back, and Blárgrinnedat him. Gunnar hugged him too, and Blár shoved him off, laughing all the while. Inkeri nodded at him and said a few words, and then Eluf gave him a hug too, which Blár reciprocated. He was smiling at them all. He looked … happy. So unlike the brooding man she had known these past few months. He didn’t smile like that around her. He didn’t laugh like that. She didn’t … know him likethat.

Finally, his cold, cold eyes landed on her and she froze all over again. Her mind came to a stuttering halt when his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. He blinked, and she blinked. And then the moment passed.

“Kolfinna.” His smile faded and so did the warmth in his voice. “What … What are you doing here?”

She could feel the pieces of her heart cracking.

“Kolfinna?” This time it was Inkeri. Her dark brows were knitted together in worry. “Are you?—”

“I’m fine,” she said with a tight-lipped smile. All she could see was the empty seat in the trial room. He should’ve been there with her and she had foolishly given him a hundred excuses, but now things were making sense. He hadn’t been there when Kolfinna needed him the most because he had a life and he had things that were more important than Kolfinna’s potential doom. One of them being …this, apparently. Herja, maybe, and the others in the fort.

She noted the way Herja kept to his side, her hand lightly grazing his forearm. Like it belonged there. Likeshebelonged there beside him.

“Kolfinna—” Blár stepped forward and the usual comfort she found from the ice-cold chill that clung to him was nowhere to be found.

“Nice to see you here,” she said politely, distantly. “I didn’t expect it.”

“Likewise.” He glanced at the cloak she wore—hiscloak.

She wanted to rip it off and fling it at his face for making her feel like a fool. Like a lovestruck fool who thought she had meant something to him. But all the facts were in her face: running across the lake, dancing at the ball, and hugging her at the end of the battle—all of it didn’t mean anything because he wasn’t in love with her. He had just strung her along, and for what?

Her mind was too scattered to be able to think clearly. The back of her eyes burned and she blinked them rapidly. “Well then, I’ll see you later,” she said with a nod. “I’ll?—”

He reached forward as if to grab her by the arm, but she was already stepping back.

“We just got back from a long mission.” The others didn’t seem to notice her discomfort, other than Inkeri, who watched her with concern. “I’m going to wash up and rest for a bit.” She then turned to Blár with a shuttered expression. “It was good to see you.”

His forehead crinkled. “Why?—”

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