Page 7 of Ties of Death

“I only want to talk,” he protested, but the way his eyes glittered, the way they dropped down to the slip I used as nightwear, lingering far longer than was appropriate, made it clear how much of a lie that was.

Heat flushed up my neck. “We cantalk”—I stressed the word so he would know I knew what he really meant—“as long as you want tomorrow after our wedding.”

Even if the idea of doing anything beyond true talking with a man I barely knew scared me more than I would ever admit.

He sighed in a beleaguered sort of way. “Such a tease. Then I suppose I’ll bid you good night, Emana.” He drew my name out, guttural in his lowland accent, as he raised a heavy hand to brush over my cheek, trailing it down my neck and over my shoulder.

The guard started to step forward. “My lord, I think that’s—”

“Don’t touch me,” Tolomon snarled, whirling to grip the guard’s jerkin again and raising a fist as if to hit him.

I lurched forward even as my magic did and I grabbed his raised fist with my free hand. “Tolomon, my lord,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “He’s just doing his duty. Protecting my honor. He should be celebrated for that, not punished.”

Slowly, I tugged Tolomon’s fist down.

It was another moment before Tolomon released the guard, shoving him back into the wall as he did so.

“You’re right, of course,” he said to me, flashing me a smile. “I look forward to seeing you”—his gaze trailed down my body, and my grip tightened on my dagger—“tomorrow. Good night, Lady Emana.”

“Good night, Lord Tolomon,” I murmured, dipping my head slightly and watching as my soon-to-be husband staggered away.

Disloyal as it was to my clan and my duty and my soon-to-be-husband, I wished Daenn would come and take me back home with him.

But he wasn’t coming. I belonged to Tolomon now.

5

Dark and Dangerous

Daenn doesn’t say another word as we traverse the cave system to the ceremony hall. He’s angry, I think, but it’s hard to tell with this new stranger. I keep my own silence; I don’t know what to make of his announcement.

When we reach the ceremony hall, I stop short at the entrance.

I expected us to be a spectacle for the entire clan, but the great echoing cavern, with its painted walls that dance with the flickering firelight from the ornamental braziers, holds only a small handful of people near the front. Sigrid is one. The Clan Priest, Jakob, is another. He’s a weathered man who’s been the priest since long before I was alive, as well as Sigrid’s husband. The last two witnesses are Eskil and Kettil.

I keep my voice low, but of course it carries in the empty cavern. Maybe the others will hear and realize how mad this all is.

“So youdosee how shameful your actions are,” I say snidely. “Seeing as you’re not willing to marry me in front of the whole clan, as you should.”

The muscles along Daenn’s jaw ripple as he clenches his teeth, but his stride doesn’t falter.

Eskil, at the front of the room, crosses his arms. “The lack of a crowd is in case the worst happens and for no other reason.”

His tone is cold, far colder than he’s ever used on me before, and icy dread trickles down my spine at the statement.

His words compound on Daenn’s from the hallway, only making me feel more keenly like I’m missing something—something big and important. My steps falter, and I swallow before hurrying after Daenn, whose long stride has already carried him several paces ahead.

We stop before Jakob in the space I saw countless couples fill in weddings I attended growing up, their hands clasped, their whole bodies radiating joy. There is none of that today. Daenn still keeps his hands firmly at his sides, so I do the same, despite the oddity of it. Custom may dictate a physical connection during the ceremony, but I’m not eager to close the distance between us.

I look at each attendee. Sigrid meets my eyes, her look a touch sad, even as she smiles at me, and there’s something else there too—worry, maybe—that only amplifies the dread spreading across me. Kettil drops his gaze when I look at him, but Eskil tilts his chin up in a challenge and glares at me. Not with hatred, but like I’m the biggest fool in the room.

I straighten my shoulders. I’m not the fool here; they are. The whole lot of them. Even Sigrid is going along with Daenn’s insanity. I can’t blame her; I know her loyalty to our clan. But it hurts all the same.

Jakob gestures for us to stand before him. I mutinously consider running, but Daenn picked his guests well. Kettil used to win every warrior race on festal days when we were younger, and Eskil is surprisingly swift for his size.

And Daenn stands closer than all of them, andhealready knows the full extent of my intentions. I’m sure he’s ready for me to run or attack him again.

I grit my teeth and step forward beside Daenn, but I’m not giving up yet.

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