Page 95 of Blood Beneath the Snow

He slowed his horse enough that we fell behind the others and turned slightly to hiss, “Then next time you’re a prisoner of war,make better choices.”

The comment stung like a slap and I fell into silence, seething internally. He didn’t know anything about what I’d been through.

It took all of my willpower to keep my thoughts empty the rest of the ride. When we finally made our way to the largest tent over an hour later, Frode dismounted, clutching his head. As I walked alongside him, my legs almost collapsed under me. My ankles had supported my weight in the snow for too long. I let out a groan from the aches traveling up to my hips.

“Is your head okay?” I tried to sound normal, but my voice was stiff.

Frode pursed his lips. “I’m going to lie down. When you’re done, come find me. We need to talk.” He stalked away without another glance back at me.

I crossed my arms over my chest. A gust of wind toyed with my hair, still loose from yesterday. Frode and I rarely fought. I hated it when we did. But I was more than justified in my feelings for the Hellbringer. When I went to see Frode later, hopefully he would be more understanding.

“This way.” My father grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward the canvas tent. I stumbled with the force of it but managed to catch myself before I fell. I wrenched my arm out of his grasp.

“I’m capable of walking myself,” I snapped. I pushed the flaps of the tent open.

Inside was warm. A fire blazed in a metal pit and the smokeescaped through a series of small holes in the top of the tent. To one side was a table with a map on it and three chairs. My father grabbed one and pulled it over to the fire. He gestured for me to sit.

I eyed him warily but obliged. The warmth of the fire seeped into my bones, thawing me from the inside out. I tried not to let my relief show.

“Now what?” I asked.

My father pulled one of the other chairs over to face me and sat.

“Now you tell us everything,” he said. “Start talking. Spare no detail.”

Oh, I was going to spare some details.

I took a deep breath. This was going to be complicated if I left things out. I couldn’t tell him therealtruth: the Kryllians wanted to put me on the throne and end the war.

But what would I tell him instead?

Might as well start with the truths I could share. “Well, the soldier who can teleport—she’s the Hellbringer’s number one. Only she can get to and from where he is staying. Where he kept me prisoner.”

And where we kissed.

I turned to see Frode’s expression before remembering he wasn’t there. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

“And where was that?” Erik asked. He stood behind my father’s chair, pausing his pacing to ask the question.

I shrugged. “We were in an abandoned prison.” A glance between my brothers and my father showed various levels of interest in my words. Jac stood stoic in the corner. Björn sharpened his knife at the table, not looking up at me. “How long was I gone?”

Björn lifted his head and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”

“I hadn’t seen the sun until they dropped me in the snow this morning. So, no, I don’t know.” I pursed my lips and raised an eyebrow in response, daring them to catch me in the lie.

“Five weeks,” Jac supplied.

I let out a surprised laugh. “Well. That’s a while. Did you all think I was dead, then?”

“It doesn’t matter.” My father’s interruption caught me off guard, but I schooled my expression before he could see. He strode toward me, hands behind his back. His armor glinted in the firelight. “Do you know where the prison was? Could you identify any landmarks nearby? We have a teleporter in our ranks. The more we know, the closer we can get to taking out the Hellbringer.”

Keeping my face neutral proved to be a challenge as fury swept through me. He held no concern for my safety, only the information I had to offer.

I gritted my teeth. “I wasn’t able to see any significant landmarks from where I was. The mountains weren’t in sight, so probably…east? Close to Faste. He confirmed we were still in Bhorglid, though.”

“Why did they bother to take you?” Björn asked, continuing to sharpen his long knife. He paused to point it at me. I held my expression, and after a moment he sighed. “You’re useless. Everyone knows that.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. “Apparently not. They thought I was an easy target for information. Lucky for you, nobody tells me anything, including the locations of our camps. They had a mind reader come, and once they confirmed I didn’t know anything, they kept me in a cell for a while and then dumped me in the snow to die.”

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