Page 132 of Storm of Desire
"Go to him,"she told Malin, who'd braided her hair in a crown around her head and was wearing an old dress ofFreyja's.
Her handmaid shot her an uneasy look, and then started up the hill. It was dangerous to bring her to the battle, but they had to find a way to keep Sirius out of thefight.
And Árdís was playingdirty.
If they fell here today, then there'd be no place her handmaid was safe anyway. At least here, Malin could perhaps turn the tide of battle, and Sirius would protect her should theyfall.
The ground started quivering beneath their feet. Lightning lashed through the skies, and one of thedrekiscreamed as a bolt of it seared the air dangerously close to him. Freyja held her hands into the air, her eyes turning electric blue as power speared throughher.
She was controlling thestorm.
"Rurik?"Árdís turned to herbrother.
"I told you,"he replied on a psychic thread of gold."She's not human. We don't know what she is, but she's been growing in power for the last month, ever since wemated."
The enemydrekilanded on the smoking ground, and light flashed as they shifted shapes to their mortal forms anddressed.
"It's time," Árdís whispered, drawing hersword.
Stellan was the first to stride forward, his legs eating up the ground. Lightning flickered and danced behindhim.
"Uncle," Rurik called, forcing the otherdrekito come and meethim.
Stellan ignored him, turning his head to stare at her. "You've caused a great deal of trouble,Árdís."
"I amnotreturning to court," Árdís said. "I have chosen my mate, and I will not submit to the will of either of yoursons."
"We no longer wish for your return." Stellan's lips thinned. "You are not worthy of the right to bear theZilittuname, nor to mate with any of my sons. You have despoiled your blood with this human. Your mother has made the proclamation before the court, exiling you from the clan. You bear nodrekititle, nor can you lay claim to your previous place. You are nothing. No one. Rut with whomever youwant."
It took her aback. All along she'd been fighting to free herself, and yet the sudden loss sheared throughher.
No longer a princess. No longer a part of her father's court. She might have held no ties to her mother's family, but her father's.... It was her inheritance. Herplacein thisworld.
A hand slid into hers, fingers lacing between them. Haakon. She squeezed back, grateful for the silentsupport.
"You're my wife. That is your place," he muttered, and she looked at him sharply, surprised he'd heard her thoughts, though she shouldn't havebeen.
They were onenow.
Almost.
"You do not have the right to strip Árdís of her name," Rurik growled, stepping forward. "And the court belonged to my father. My mother's claim upon it is spurious, if nothingelse."
"I hear the words of a ghost," Stellan mocked, his eyes glittering. "Your words have no weighthere."
"I hear the words of a coward," Rurik shot back, and everydrekiwithin the area sucked in an audible gasp. "One who likes to hide behind lies, and the lives of his sons." He gestured to the barren lands around him. "Well, I have helped take one of your sons from this world. Perhaps you would like to step out from behind the others? Face me as thedrekiwarrior you claim tobe."
Stellan's eyesnarrowed.
"Enough."
The word echoed through all their minds, like a lash oflightning.
Thedrekiparted, and behind them, Árdís saw a woman skirting the bubbling pools of mud, stagnant ponds, and the hissing steam vents that marked the caldera. The heat drained from Árdís's face. Her mother walked with stately grace, wearing a gown of emerald green velvet, her unbound hair tumbling in loose golden waves down herback.
She hadn't been hiding after all. She'd been waiting to make anentrance.
"You sent me a challenge," Amadea hissed, her golden hair streaming behind her in the winds. "Are you ready to face me,daughter?"
