Page 70 of A Bond in Blood

He stepped away, pointing to the end of the dock where I found a crowd of people.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Just watch.”

Olen appeared before me, the warmth of his fur leaning against the skirts of my soiled dress. My hands rested against him, absent-mindedly using his fur to bring heat to my hands.

I made sure I was aware of Ulrich’s place, and did as I was instructed. I watched. My eyes darted back and forth, searching the water for whatever we had all gathered for.

Hisses rang out around me when the black mist in the distance parted and the same black ship I’d sailed to this island cut through the veil.

It was as terrifying as it had been before.

“What is going on?”

“Quiet,” Olen snapped.

I tightened my hold on the black fur beneath my fingers. Trembling where I stood while the omen of a vessel approached at that same horrifying speed.

Ulrich didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He remained unmoving and silent, even as the gangplank hit the dock.

But his people behind me? They all hissed again.

Towering black creatures walked down the gangplank, their crimson eyes filling my body with fear. Their long limbs dragged against the dock as they approached, and I instantly promised myself to never be left alone with one of them.

I thought Ulrich’s people had been hissing at these strange creatures.

But I had been so painfully wrong.

The scream—it ripped into my soul. One of terror, anguish, and regret.

My eyes snapped back to the boat, watching as more of the creatures dragged a fae man down toward the dock.

There was something familiar about this man. His cut jaw, his brown copper hair. The straight nose. Yet, I couldn’t place it.

Ulrich turned back to me, grinning.

“Prince Harold,” the king bowed mockingly before the trembling prisoner. “I thought my warnings had been clear,” Ulrich continued.

“Sire,” the man sobbed. “Your grace.”

Ulrich’s hand rose and black shadows crept from his palm, heading down the throat of the man before us.

“Harry,” Ulrich laughed. “I didn’t give you permission to speak.”

Tears fell from the man’s eyes and my stomach turned. I pulled my hands from Olen’s fur, holding them to my chest.

“How is Havrd?” Ulrich asked.

My hands fell to my side and my head twisted so quickly my neck groaned as I met the eyes of the man now shackled with Ulrich’s shadows.

My younger brother, Harold, he’s a fool. But he does his best to learn what needs to be done for our kingdom.

My eyes lined with blinding tears while one of Leif’s last letters ran through my mind.

“Do not speak,” Olen ordered.

I glanced at him, realizing I had stepped forward in my daze. Too blinded by my shock to detect my own movement.

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