Page 67 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

“Thank you,” I told him, doing my best not to fixate on the whole weighing of souls thing.

If I thought about it, I might freak out that I’d been judged by a deity. And lived. I now understood why we had very little recollection; and I was glad of it.

Gunnar rose from his seat and returned to the bar, pouring another drink. As he knocked back the fiery liquid, his hazel eyes glowered at me.

"Let us turn our attention to other matters," Brahm suggested.

Liam's attention remained on Gunnar, but he said nothing and relaxed back into his chair. Mirrelle, on the other hand, was giving the heir of Ephandor every bit of her focus.

Luckily, Gunnar was a soldier first and foremost. As Brahm brought up how to best ensure I was protected, Gunnar engaged with his own strategic opinions. Happily, none of them involved hanging me from a tree or locking me in the mines.

Accepting help wasn’t easy for me. Accepting it from someone who hated my guts was even more challenging.

Gunnar’s assistance, and me going along with it, was not only a win, it was a damned miracle.

After a tentative plan was made, Liam asked me, “Do you think you can do that, Raina?”

“Can I run from an attack, if ordered to?”

“Yes. Can you?”

“If it is a condition of the Drótinn’s generosity, I will have to accept it. Otherwise, I can’t make that promise. I’m not one who runs away from the fight. I run toward it.”

“Spoken like a true Duersian, Raina,” Brahm complemented, nodding approvingly.

Gunnar muttered under his breath, casting a sideways glance in my direction. Letting it go, I waited for the young berserker taking my plate to replace it with dessert.

I picked at the delicate fruit on my plate, listening to the rhythmic clink of Gunnar's glass as he poured himself yet another drink. Lucky for him it smelled like the bourbon made by humans and not fae liquor. Otherwise, he’d be crawling all the way to his bed tonight and regretting it in the morning.

"It has been too long since you've been home for more than a handful of hours," Brahm commented.

Liam exhaled. “I know. The weight of the past two sun cycles has been far heavier than usual.”

Gunnar slid back into his seat. “Which wouldn’t be the case if Raina had only acted like atrue Duersianback when it would have meant something.”

Before Mirrelle could throw her knife at the male, I reached for her hand. He was purposefully provoking us.

"Raina is not to blame for my time away from the clan, brother.”

"Isn't she?" Gunnar returned. “Can you say that, had she ignored her parents’ self-serving wishes and married you, you wouldn’t be living in wedded bliss in Blómhaus?”

Blómhaus? Bloom House? No, blóm meant something else. It meant … it meantflower. He hadn’t called me that since he’d been able to call me his. The last time didn’t count.

Flower House.

He built a home foryouto live in.

And I never knew because I hadn’t been brave enough to fight for him. Guilt clawed up my throat before a cooling balm pushed it back down.

My regret wasn’t enough to excuse his spiteful behaviors or wipe away his ugly words.

"Leave it alone, Gunnar," Liam warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"Your brother's right.”

All four heads jerked to me. “I doubt you’d have left Nox permanently, but I would never have stood for you staying away from your family and risk damaging the bonds you have with them.”

“Of course you wouldn’t have,” Gunnar mused, “not when you were so obviously desperate to form bonds of your own. Tell me again how chasing after mommy and daddy’s love worked out for you?”

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