Page 101 of Clash of Storms
He would save them. She was certain of it. He had to.
He was the prince.
But what if he was forced to make a choice between Andri, the good brother everyone loved, and the Blackfrost, who he suspected had had a hand in his father's death?
A shiver ran through her.
* * *
Dreklingservants scattered before him as Sirius strode through the hallways of the court, one hand resting laxly on the hilt of his sword. He was done with attempting to be anything other than what he was and it showed on his face.
You wanted to make of me a villain, Father? Then let me be the villain....
Balder turned and froze when he saw Sirius coming. The other male's eyes raced, his hand sliding to the knife at his belt.
"I wouldn't,"Sirius told him on a thread of psychic communication as he prowled directly toward him."I'm here to see my father. If anything gets in my way I intend to remove it. Permanently. Don't make that mistake."
Balder's hands flinched away from his belt, and the other warrior limped away as swiftly as he could. No doubt running to tell the queen Sirius had been sighted within Hekla.
Poor Balder. He was having such a bad week. First Árdís and her husband trounced him; then he was beaten in a battle where he and his cohort had all the advantage. What was any self-respectingdrekimale to do, but flee with his tail tucked between his legs?
Sirius laughed, but as the crowd of staring drekling thinned, he caught a glimpse of adrekihe recognized, and all the breath went out of him the second he saw those familiar, dark brown eyes set in the male's face.
Sigurd Silvertongue.
Malin's father.
Sirius's steps faltered, just once. There was something catching in his chest. The lore master's gaze slid to Sirius's side as if searching for someone, and Sirius gave a minute shake of his head.
The other male paled.
"Father?" whispered the young woman at his side, clutching his sleeve as if aware something was wrong. "What is it?"
Blonde, where Malin was dark, she had the same heart-shaped face and tiny figure. The same fiery look in her eye. Her head turned, following her father's gaze, and when she saw Sirius she flinched. Elin.
"Malin?" Sigurd demanded, stepping forward. "What have you done with Malin?"
This wasn't the time. Or the place.
He caught a glimpse of Lor shoving through the doors to the throne room, as if to see for himself what Balder had no doubt told him.
Sirius's eyes narrowed, and Lor vanished back inside. He had seconds at most. Perhaps half a minute.
"Damn you, tell us what did you do with her!" Elin demanded, putting both hands against his chest and shoving with all her might. "Is she still alive, you bastard?"
Everywhere in the hallway, drekling sucked in sharp breaths. Sirius staggered back a step, unable to stand against her, this fierce young woman who looked so much like his Malin his heart bled.
It was in that moment he realized he'd never see Malin again.
He hadn't dared think of it on the long, violent flight back to court, as he pushed himself to the limits of his physical endurance. All he could focus upon was getting back here before his father took his fury out on poor Andri.
"Elin!" Sigurd grabbed her arm, hauling her back behind him as Sirius froze. Then the lore master stepped between them, chin tipped up firmly as if to dare him to take affront for his daughter's actions. "Malin sent word. She said you'd taken her from court, but there were rumors...."
"She's safe," he said quietly. "She's with the princess."
"With the—?"
Clearly word hadn't yet spread. Sirius let his voice rise so others could hear. This was the only gift he could give Árdís for the trouble he'd caused her. "Princess Árdís has mated with her mortal husband, Haakon Dragonsbane. Prince Rurik has welcomed them both into his territory, and Árdís has renounced all claim upon her brother's throne."
