Page 43 of Alliance Bride
Kian lingered a moment before leaving the others and meeting Aevar at the edge of the field. “What’s going on?”
“Oda’s up to her old ways.”
Kian shot a look toward the village. “That woman’s got the persistence of a blood gnat. Want us to swat her, or just keep her buzzing out of reach?”
“I already made myself clear to her.” Aevar crossed his arms. “Eadlyn wants the freedom to walk down to the fjord. I want it known that she’s to be protected at all costs. If anyone, especially Oda, bothers her again, they’re to be brought directly to me.”
“I’ll let the men know. They’ll spread the word and keep watch.” Kian gave a dry snort. “Honestly, it’s like watching someone try to start a fire in the fjord. The obsession with you is almost impressive.”
Aevar grunted, jaw tightening. What had once seemed like petty sibling rivalry between Thora and Oda had twisted into something darker. Now Oda seemed bent on claiming what was denied her. He remembered too well the day she had come to him, so soon after Thora’s death, thinking in his grief he would welcome her offer of comfort. The memory made his insides turn. He had refused her outright, and she’d slunk back into the shadows. But now, Eadlyn’s arrival had stirred her up again like hornets from a broken nest.
A hard smack landed against his shoulder.
“You look like you need to hit something,” Kian said, grinning. “And I’m feeling particularly generous today. I’ll let you take a swing at me.”
Aevar didn’t argue. His hands itched, and his blood flowed too hot beneath his skin. Kian was right. He did need to hit something.
The ring cleared once he and Kian stepped inside. The huskarls knew better than to interrupt when Aevar was like this—the kind of storm that needed letting out before it struck elsewhere. Kiantossed him a wooden sword and shield, and Aevar caught both without breaking stride.
“No blades,” Kian said, grabbing his own gear. “You look like you might be in the mood toaccidentallybreak something.”
“I’ll aim for your head. Wouldn’t damage much.”
“Generous as ever.”
They circled once. Wooden swords felt slightly unbalanced compared to iron but familiar. The grain of the grip bit into Aevar’s palm, the shield solid against his forearm. Kian struck first, a light, quick swing toward Aevar’s shoulder. Aevar blocked it and returned with a downward strike that Kian deflected with ease.
“I’ve missed this,” Kian said, shifting his stance. “You, angry. Me, being useful.”
Aevar didn’t answer. He let the rhythm of the fight take hold. Each strike gave him something to focus on, drowning out thoughts of Oda. Of Thora. Of Eadlyn standing tall beside him.
Kian pressed forward, shield low, sword swinging fast. Aevar stepped aside, caught the strike, and countered with a quick combination. The final strike landed squarely against Kian’s ribs.
He staggered back with a hissed breath, laughing despite it. “You’re a menace when brooding.”
“You asked for it.”
“Ioffered, actually, out of friendship. This is gratitude, apparently.”
Aevar shook out his shoulders. Sweat clung under his collar, but the heat in his chest was starting to bleed away.
Kian circled again, more cautious now. “You ever going to tell her?”
Aevar tightened his grip on his sword. “Tell who what?”
Kian raised a brow. “Eadlyn. That you’re half in love with her already.”
Aevar swung hard and fast in a brutal arc that slammed into Kian’s shield with enough force to send him stumbling two steps back. The crack of wood rang out sharp and final.
Kian blinked, regaining his balance. “Right. Noted.”
Aevar reset his stance, measuring each breath. He wasnothalf in love. He struck again. Kian blocked and tried to counter, but Aevar stepped inside the swing and shoved him back with his shoulder. Kian stumbled, turning it into a dramatic fall and landing on the dirt with a loudoof. He stayed there, staring at the sky until Aevar offered him a hand.
Kian took it, groaning as Aevar hauled him up. “Next time I bring armor.”
“You’ll need more than that.”
Kian grinned. “Maybe a priest.”
