Bride of the Sea (The Prophecy of Sisters #2) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,116

to stay upright. Breathing in and out, my chest burns and my vision is blurry at the energy that I’ve expelled.

“Get Runa inside for safety,” Sylvi shouts.

Turning my head, I look over at the girl. She’s younger than me, and yet, she’s got her shit together way better than even I do right now.

“I do not know how long we’ll be able to hold him,” Sten grinds out.

Wobbly, I walk over to Aaric. Bending down, I reach out and touch his cheek. He doesn’t move. His eyes don’t flutter, he doesn’t even twitch. Lifting my head to look up at Kjeld and Sten, I shake my head once.

“He is out,” I whisper.

“Alive?” Sten asks.

I place my hand against his chest, just to reassure myself, and nod when it rises and falls with his slight breath. “He is,” I say softly.

“You must give the ritual,” Kjeld calls out. “It must be him or you.”

“Why?”

There is a moment of silence, you wouldn’t even know that dozens and dozens of people are around us, you could hear a pin drop. Straightening, I stand up tall and take a step toward Kjeld and Sten.

They turn the man around, I heard Aaric call him, Einar. He is limp, but they are holding him up. Two men come forward, taking his arms and tying ropes around them, stretching them out. As soon as they come back for his legs, my stomach drops.

“You don’t mean…” I trail off.

“You must, dróttning,” Kjeld announces firmly.

Looking back over my shoulder, I see that Aaric is still on the ground, he hasn’t moved even an inch. Pressing my lips together, I continue to make my way toward them. When I come close enough that they can speak to me without the rest of the people hearing, only then do they level me with their gaze.

I feel as though I’m about to get a cold hard truth, and honestly, I’m not ready for it. “You have magic,” Kjeld announces softly. His eyes practically sparkle as he grins down at me.

“I guess I do,” I breathe.

He chuckles. “You are powerful, even more so than Runa,” he says.

I doubt that is true. There is no way that I can be more powerful than Runa. Besides, I don’t even know how to use this power.

It comes when it feels like it.

Then it fucks with the weather, but that blue shit that came out of me, I think it only happened because I was scared to death this asshole was going to kill Aaric.

“You must do the Blood Eagle, it is the only way to send him down to the underworld,” Sten explains.

Shaking my head, I press my lips together. “Why me? Can’t you do it? I’ll even watch.”

Kjeld’s eyes find mine and the sadness that pours off of him seeps into my bones. “You must be the one, you or Aaric. We may not be able to hold him by the time Aaric regains consciousness. It must be you, Liv. I am sorry.”

I believe his words, believe that he is indeed sorry. Lifting my hand, I touch the side of the crown that Aaric placed there not long ago. Lifting my chin, I decide that I must do this. I must be strong and protect his people, protect our family—protect us. Even though I am completely terrified.

“Axe,” Kjeld barks as soon as I lift my chin and take a step forward.

“Nei,” I call out.

Reaching for the jeweled handle of my dagger, I hold it up as I jerk my chin in the air. I take another step toward Einar. Then another. Then a final one. Lifting the blade, I hold out the bottom of his shirt and slice it open.

The people standing around are quiet as they wait, watching for what I’m about to do next.

They all know what is coming.

They have probably seen it all before.

This is their custom.

This is their world, and I am nothing more than a long-term visitor. I will never be okay with the slaves, with the sacrifices, with the Blood Eagle rituals. I will never be able to just turn the other cheek and accept every part of this life.

Aaric knows this, he understands and thankfully hasn’t forced me to accept everything, but this is something that I don’t have a choice on. This is something that I must do to protect my child.

“Start at the base, slice all the way up, press hard,” Sten softly explains.

Nodding my head, I grip the handle of the dagger. Closing my eyes,