Page 100 of A Bond in Blood

“How on earth did we get up here so quickly?” I wondered aloud.

“An old trick a friend once taught me,” Ulrich replied, motioning back to the table.

The chill picked up around me and I pulled the cloak against my face. “When is your winter festival?”

Ulrich paused his retreating steps. “Two weeks.”

“What happens?”

My mind went to home. The fires and the singing in the town circle. The feast where everyone would gather in our large hall, warming the space to a suffocating heat.

The ball. Not anywhere near as grand as the parties Ulrich threw. But full of joy and laughter. Full of carefree fun.

“Things happen at the Winter Rite,” Ulrich said bluntly.

“Things?What in the Gods does that mean?”

Ulrich’s hand thumped the table. “Why does it matter, Brenna?”

“Because I’m trying to learn about this stupid fucking city,” I yelled. “Is there anything I can look forward to? Anything your people do that brings joy to this cycle of death and debauchery?”

“You are not to attend the Winter Rite,” Ulrich replied.

“Rite? What does that mean?”

Ulrich’s hand hit the table again and the contents of his plate splattered across his black shirt. “You are not to attend the Winter Rite!” he yelled. “Do I always have to repeat myself with you?”

I shrank back, tears lining my eyes. “I’m not a child.”

His shadows grabbed my wrists, pulling me toward him. He stared up at me from his seat.

“I have lived millennia, Brenna. You have lived barely over a century. You are a child. An insignificant infant refusing to behave.”

I tugged against his power on me, my tears falling once more.

“Did you like my setting tonight? Leif did have a rather active imagination.”

My lip trembled at the callus way he spoke. “Stop.”

Ulrich’s shadows held me tighter. “I rather admired the suggestion to eat under the stars. I must admit I’ve never done this with anyone before.”

“Why must you always make everything vile?” I sobbed.

He stood, throwing his chair toward a tree. The crack of it splintered from the force, echoing around us.

“I’m a monster,” he breathed out. “When will you accept that?”

“I have accepted it,” I replied.

“No, I do not think you have.”

He dropped his hold on me and the door across the path swung open. Olen stepped out, eyes widening at the food across the table and the destroyed chair in the distance.

“My king,” he whispered, dropping his head with a bow.

“We’re done. Escort her back to the bedroom,” Ulrich replied.

Olen nodded, reaching for me but I pulled away. “I know the way.”

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