Page 103 of Blood Beneath the Snow

Jac was the first person I saw as the crowd parted. He was tied to a chair next to their campfire, and soldiers swarmed, laughing and spitting on him. One of his arms shone red in the almost-dawn, shards of bone tearing through the skin. The transformation had worn off and his hair glowed in the firelight. His eyes were closed, his head lolling back. If he wasn’t dead, he was at least unconscious.

“No,” I whispered. The dull thud of my erratic heartbeat echoed through my skull. Everything Søren and I had done together meant nothing if he killed the brothers I was allied with. What the hell was he thinking?

Frode lunged over the drift, knives drawn, and slashed at the Hellbringer. The soldiers in the crowd drew their weapons, butstood back, allowing my brother to attack with no interference. My captor dodged, hauling me out of the way, then twisted me around, placing his familiar blade directly at my throat.

My heart plunged, but I didn’t waver. Of course he’d use me as a hostage—if he’d done anything else, the eyes on us both would’ve turned hostile. Our deception, our partnership, would be known in an instant. I took a shaky breath, determined to play the game and play it well.

This was not Søren; this was the Hellbringer. And the Hellbringer was an enemy of Bhorglid.

Still, fury tore at my stomach when I thought of Jac’s torture. I resisted the urge to wrench myself from his grasp. “Let Jac go,” I demanded.

“None of you are in any position to bargain,” the Hellbringer said. Father, Erik, and Björn were moving to the other side of the snowdrift, weapons ready. Frode shook—whether with anger or overwhelm at the voices he heard, I wasn’t sure. “Would you look at that? The entire royal family of Bhorglid. What a treat.”

My mind warred between panic and steadiness. The Hellbringer wouldn’t kill me. This was a ruse, a way to prevent my father and brothers from discovering my plan to ally with Kryllian before the time was right.

You can trust him,I reminded myself.

But Frode’s wide eyes met mine, his breath coming fast, and he shook his head.

I felt the blood drain from my face. Frode might be the one reading minds, but his message to me was clear as day, etched irrevocably in every terrified line of his face. Despite all the noise in the Hellbringer’s head, Frode had ascertained the general’s intentions.

You cannot trust the Hellbringer. Not anymore.

As I watched my breath shimmer in the rising sunlight, I realized we might not all make it to the Bloodshed Trials.

With a swift tug on the back of my collar, the Hellbringer marched me to where Jac was tied, pushing through his own soldiers as if they weren’t there. They all backed away, eyes filled with something resembling respect—or fear.

The Hellbringer threw me in the snow at Jac’s feet. I scrambled backward, trying to put distance between me and the black-clad figure.

I am not afraid of you.

When I had spoken those words to the Hellbringer, recovering from the injury he’d dealt me, I had meant them. Now, with him towering over me, sword reflecting the dawn, I wasn’t sure if I could say them again.

The soldiers circled me and Jac, unconscious in his bonds. Then chaos erupted.

My father and Björn attacked, sending roaring flames into the crowd of soldiers, while Erik picked one up and hauled him over his head, tossing him ten feet like it was nothing. He proceeded to pull another soldier toward him by the arm. The soldier’s scream echoed over the white landscape as his arm was pulled out of its socket.

The Hellbringer turned along with the rest of the soldiers in time to see Frode leap onto a soldier and slice his throat with his wickedly sharp knives. “Leave them alone!” he screamed, lunging for another.

As the army roared to life, drawing weapons to fight back, I took advantage of the general’s distraction and pulled out one of my daggers, slicing through the ties holding Jac to the chair, grunting as I pulled him over my shoulder.

But the Hellbringer turned to reach for his blade and caught sight of us. “No you don’t,” he growled, advancing.

I turned to face him, using my free hand to draw my sword and flip it in the air until I could hold it steady. There was no way I coulddefeat him like this, not when I had barely managed to best him at full capacity. But honestly? I shouldn’t have had to fight him.

“What the hell are you doing?” I growled, uncaring whether I was overheard. “Are you going to kill meandmy family? What about the truce?”

He lowered his stance. “You would be hard pressed to remember the meaning of duty.”

The battle raged on behind him. Flames burned away the snow, leaving only charred dirt in their wake, and a giant plume of fire exploded from within the crowd. Screams echoed along the mountains in the distance.

“You call this your duty?” I swung my sword, gesturing at the scene before us. Smoke billowed up in clouds. “Because it’s going to shit.”

His unoccupied hand clenched in a fist. “You knownothingabout my duty,” he hissed, and then he lunged.

I was able to block the swing with one hand on my sword. He was holding back despite his words. I shifted Jac’s weight, ignoring the persistent ache building in my shoulder. “That’s all you’ve got?”

He swung again, and by some miracle I stepped out of the way in time. But now he wasn’t pulling punches. I barely had the time or ability to counter each strike. He took our duel to full speed, his strength overwhelming enough that I spent more energy than I wanted to simply not collapsing in the snow.

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