King Breaker (45 page)

Byren dared to sink his fingers into that fur, rubbing under the beast’s jaws. A surge of Affinity enveloped him. The big ulfr came a step closer and Byren brought his other hand up, to cradle the pack leader’s head.

Looking into the ulfr’s eyes, he saw inhuman intelligence.

The female gave that coughing purr again. It made the pack leader shiver, made Byren shiver. His heart quickened. The ulfr turned and looked over his shoulder towards the female. She stood on the edge of a rise. Lit by starlight, framed by two tall pines, she drew the male with such force that Byren felt the beast’s need to go to her.

It was the same need that drove him to taunt Florin. A memory of his mountain girl shimmered in Byren’s gaze, and he felt a bone-deep longing.

The pack leader made a huffing noise in his throat and shook his head, dislodging Byren’s hands, before padding over to the female. She tossed her head, then went down the other side of the rise. The male followed her.

Byren felt drawn to follow them. As he moved forward, he saw other dark forms approach. Ulfrs of all sizes converged on the hollow. But, like Byren, they stopped at the tree line.

No bracken grew in the clearing and the ground was covered by pine needles. The two ulfrs stood in the centre of the clearing. Even from where he was, Byren could feel the pulsing power of an Affinity seep.

Another new seep. There had been so many since last spring.

The pack leaders frolicked in the pine needles, rolling and luxuriating in the seep’s power like cats in sun. Then the female rolled to her feet, gave a little shiver and backed up towards the male, tail hitched to one side.

And Byren finally understood. How could he be so slow? He should have recognised the mating dance. The same restless energy drove him.

This gave him pause. Was he affected by the ulfrs’ state? Was this why he was drawn to his mountain girl?

Shocked, he left the Affinity beasts to consummate their alliance, under the protection of their pack.

Stumbling through the starlit forest, he came to a bluff. From here, he could see the surrounding countryside spread out below him. Tree-covered hills stepped down to Lake Sapphire. The water reflected the starlit sky so perfectly that it seemed to be a window to another world.

A sound made him turn.

Orrade waited for a sign that he was welcome on the rocky ledge. Byren gave him a nod.

Orrade hesitated when there was still almost a body-length between them. He inhaled sharply. ‘You stink of Affinity beast. The ulfr pack?’

Byren nodded.

‘Is it safe to be here?’

He considered. The pack would never hurt him, and Orrade and Florin were
his
pack. If Orrade could scent ulfrs on him, the pack leader would have scented both Orrade and Florin on him. ‘You’re safe.’

Orrade didn’t ask how he knew this. He joined Byren, shoulders touching. ‘You didn’t come back.’

‘I had to think.’

‘What’s there to think about?’ Orrade shrugged. ‘The way you look at her... I swear, if I stepped between you two, I’d burn up.’

A laugh escaped Byren, but it was only a short reprieve from the restless frustration. He refused to be led by the needs of his body. He was a man, not a beast. The idea that he’d been influenced by his connection to the ulfrs disturbed him.

‘I don’t understand,’ Orrade said. ‘If you want her...’

‘She deserves more than a quick roll in the hay.’

Orrade picked up a stone, weighed it in his hand then threw it down into the tree tops below them. ‘She thinks you find her repulsive.’

‘What? You’re joking!’

‘She believes you find her too mannish.’

A bitter bark of laughter shook Byren. ‘I want her so bad I can’t think straight.’

‘If you went to her right now and told her—’

‘I can’t.’ Byren rubbed his face. ‘I’m betrothed to Isolt. I gave my word.’

‘In another life.’ Orrade gestured around them. ‘You stand at a crossroads. You could slip away with Florin, find a quiet valley, build a cabin and build a life together. You could have her love, Byren, and be richer than any king.’

‘If she’d have me...’ He stared out at Rolencia, and for one moment he let himself imagine what it would be like. There was nothing he wanted more, but... ‘It would mean leaving Cobalt on my father’s throne. After all he’s done to my family.’

‘Yes, you’d have to walk away from that.’

‘Could you walk away from Dovecote, knowing a Merofynian sits in your father’s great hall and mistreats your people?’

Orrade met his eyes, the planes of his sharp face softened by starlight. ‘I don’t have a reason to walk away, so I find it easy to do my duty.’

Byren grimaced. ‘Whether it’s easy or not, I must do my duty.’

‘You’ll place ambition ahead of love?’

Was that censure in Orrade’s voice? Resentment burned Byren. ‘I never wanted to be the king’s heir.’

‘Would you have married Florin if Lence still lived?’

‘In a heartbeat.’

‘Even if it meant defying your parents?’

‘They’d be relieved I wasn’t...’ He’d been about to say
a lover of men
. ‘But Lence is dead and I know my duty.’

‘And once you’re king, you can set her up as your mistress or marry her off to young Chandler.’ Orrade’s voice was thin and bitter. ‘It’s not like he’d say no, if you wanted to bed his wife.’

Byren’s first instinct was to grab Orrade by the throat and throttle him, but... he’d been tactless.

Before he could apologise, Orrade shrugged. ‘I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I know you won’t be that kind of king.’

Shame held Byren silent.

‘Dinner’s ready. Are you coming?’

‘In a moment.’

‘Very well.’ Orrade summoned a grin. ‘But it’ll serve you right if Florin and I eat the lot.’

Byren met his eyes. ‘You’ve been a good friend to me. You deserve to be happy.’

‘We don’t always get what we deserve.’

‘Cobalt will. I’ll make sure of that.’

‘I hope it’s worth it.’ Orrade went back the way he’d come.

Chapter Thirty-Six

F
LORIN’S STOMACH RUMBLED
as she stirred the dinner. What was taking them so long? She heard a noise and looked up, expecting to see Orrade and Byren, but the path was empty. Probably just some forest creature.

What if Orrie said something to Byren? She should take her travelling kit and go right now. The secret pass wasn’t far from here. She should go while she still had her dignity. Then Byren wouldn’t feel obliged to escort her all the way to Foenix Spar. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. No excruciating goodbyes. No more reminders that she was the gauche mountain girl who’d thrown herself at her king.

A pebble clicked behind her; she turned to find two men about to grab her. They tackled her to the ground. Merofynians, by their muffled curses. She writhed and twisted, trying to break free. Uppermost in her mind was the danger to Byren. Just as she drew breath to shout a warning, a hand clamped over her mouth.

Boots appeared in front of her. ‘Let’s see who this is.’

Her two captors hauled her upright. Panting with fury, she faced a Merofynian veteran. He was shorter than her and missing two of his front teeth.

‘That’s not Byren’s molly-boy.’ He spat.

‘Yer sure? ’ere, lemme check.’ One of her captors reached down between her legs. ‘Nah, nothin’ but—’

She bucked with such fury her arm slipped his grip and she elbowed him in the face. Before she could free her other arm, a third man grabbed her.

The injured man staggered back, spitting blood. His companions laughed.

Enraged, he lunged for her.

The veteran stepped between them. ‘You’ll get yer chance, Teg. Tell yer what, yer can have her but only after we’ve captured Byren. Now shut up an’ get into position.’

‘Shouldn’t we send for the rest of the patrol?’ one of them asked.

‘Yer wanna split the reward?’ Teg snorted.

The others looked to the veteran.

‘Teg’s right. Split between eleven, we’ll be rich. Split between forty, we’re drunk and back at work with a hangover tomorrow. Now go.’

They melted into the trees. Florin despaired. How would Byren escape?

‘Over there.’ The veteran jerked his head, and Florin’s captors dragged her up against the rock wall, under the overhang.

There was a scuffle in the bushes along the path and a grunt of pain, followed by a curse and another grunt. Two of the Merofynians dragged Orrade into the light of the camp fire. He shook his head, blinking blood from his eyes.

‘It’s the molly-boy,’ Teg announced.

The other one kicked Orrade’s knees out from under him and caught him by the hair as he fell to the ground. Pulling Orrade’s head up to reveal his throat, Teg drew his knife and looked to the veteran. ‘Kill ’im?’

‘Did I tell yer to kill him?’ The veteran sounded exasperated. ‘He’s the kin-slayer’s favourite. He’s useful.’

‘If Byren killed ’is own sister, why would ’e care what happened to ’is molly-boy?’

Florin bit her captor’s hand, gulped a deep breath and screamed, ‘Run, Byren. Mero—’

A punch to the jaw cut her off. The world swung around her and she didn’t know which way was up. The eerie howl of an ulfr cut the night. Even through her confusion, Florin could sense the Merofynians’ fear.

The veteran caught Florin’s hair, pulling her face close to his. ‘If I hadn’t promised yer to Teg, I’d cut yer throat for that.’ He backed off. ‘Bring her down here, the molly-boy too.’

‘How’re we gonna catch the kin-slayer now?’ someone muttered as they all gathered in the centre of the gully, churning up the mulch and leaf litter. ‘They say ’e’s a giant of man. They say ’e killed a leogryf single-handed. Took down a wyvern with only ’is hunting kni—’

Thwack.
The veteran clipped him over the head. ‘He’s just one man. There’s eleven of us, an’ we’ve got his friends. He’ll come quietly, if he knows what’s good for him.’

They formed a circle around Florin and Orrade. Her jaw throbbed and she tasted blood where her lip had torn on her teeth. She prodded her teeth. None were loose, thank Halcyon. Chill damp seeped up through her boots as their combined weight made them sink into the boggy soil.

‘Tie them two together,’ the veteran ordered.

Florin was shoved against Orrade’s back and Teg bound their arms to their sides, securing them from shoulder to waist. He didn’t miss the chance to fondle Florin’s breasts. She turned her face away, prompting him to pinch her nipple. The pain made her jerk and Orrade had to adjust his weight. Their boots squelched in the sticky bog, sinking deeper.

Teg chuckled as he finished tying their restraints. Leaning in close to Florin, he ran his hand up between her legs, while rubbing himself on her thigh.

‘Feel this. ’ard as a rock, I am. I’m gonna teach yer the difference between...’

The veteran caught him by the ear and dragged him over to stand in the outer circle. The Merofynians had formed a circle facing outward. Florin felt Orrade adjust his feet and had to adjust hers. The thick, sticky bog clung to her boots so firmly she could hardly lift her leg.

‘Byren Kin-slayer, we know yer out there!’ the veteran yelled. ‘Give yerself up before we cut yer molly-boy’s throat.’

‘Don’t do it,’ Orrade cried. ‘Leave—’

His head snapped back. There was a
clunk
as his skull collided with Florin’s. Her teeth clicked down on her lip and blood filled her mouth. She would have staggered, but her feet were stuck in the bog.

One of the Merofynians steadied her, even as he cursed the bog. ‘Almost lost me bloody boot.’

‘Shut up an’ watch the trees,’ the veteran snapped. He raised his voice. ‘Well, kin-slayer, what’ll it be?’

Florin lifted her head. Beyond her captors’ shoulders, she saw the camp fire under the overhang. Its glow painted the rock orange. The stone overhang jutted out thick as the eaves of a thatched roof, and above that...

Stood Byren with a huge Affinity beast at his side.

B
YREN HAD BEEN
about to enter camp when he heard Florin’s cry. A gut-deep fear tore at him and he heard an ulfr’s haunting howl.

His first instinct was to go to Florin, but he made himself retreat along the path and climb up the far side of the overhang. There he stretched out on the rock and edged forward on his belly until he could look down into the gully.

Eleven Merofynians had captured Orrade and Florin. Fear for them chilled him and the ulfr howled, others joined him, howling in sympathy.

Enraged by his impotence, Byren watched as one of the men bound Orrade and Florin, then groped his mountain girl. Byren wanted to tear his throat out. The urge was so powerful he clenched his teeth until his jaw ached.

One of the Merofynians reached over and hauled the man away from Florin. Just as well. Byren was having trouble thinking clearly.

Something nudged Byren’s left thigh and he glanced over his shoulder to find the ulfr pack leader creeping forward, belly pressed to the stone.

As the ulfr joined him, Byren swung his arm over the beast’s neck. He could feel power radiating from the ulfr’s body. Grateful for the beast’s support, he buried his head in the ulfr’s neck. Felt the power of the creature and the welcome of the pack.

‘Byren Kin-slayer, we know yer out there!’ the Merofynian leader yelled. ‘Give yerself up before we cut yer molly-boy’s throat.’

‘Don’t do it,’ Orrade cried. ‘Leave—’

One of them hit him and his head rocked back, slamming into Florin so that she swayed.

A roaring filled Byren’s ears and he sprang to his feet with the ulfr at his side. From this vantage point, he saw dark shadows slinking into position in the trees. The Merofynians were surrounded. Byren could see the ulfrs’ eyes gleaming from the shadows.

The man who’d pinched Florin’s breast pointed and cursed. He panicked and tried to sprint towards the safety of the fire, but his feet seemed trapped. He lurched, falling to his hands and knees. Before his companions could haul him upright, an ulfr dashed into the gully, tore out his throat, then retreated into the trees.