Bride of the Sea (The Prophecy of Sisters #2) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,92
home. Waiting for all of this to be nothing but a bad dream.
“He won’t hurt you?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
She shakes her head, taking another gulp of her drink. “Never. He is just like every other unintelligent man on this earth though, he thinks he is special.”
I can’t help but giggle at her words, then she smiles as well and we both fall into a fit of giggles and that is how Gunnar finds us when he does his hourly check. We’re laughing, unable to control ourselves.
Gunnar’s lips twitch at the sight of us. “Seeress, ask Gunnar if he and Sylvi are going to get married,” I beg.
Hillevi’s eyes widen at my request. She turns from me to Gunnar and asks what I’m dying to know. Gunnar’s eyes widen, then his lips twitch into a grin.
“Já, dróttning,” he murmurs before he says some other stuff that I don’t understand.
“Gunnar says that it is his reward for protecting you this day. That is, if Sylvi will have him. Ultimately, it will be her decision.”
My lips turn up into a big smile. “She will,” I breathe.
He dips his chin, then without a word turns around and exits the tent. “They’re to be married? I thought that she was betrothed?” Hillevi asks.
I hum, reaching for the small canteen of water. Taking a sip, I sit down on the stool and look over to the seeress. I lift a shoulder in a shrug. “She made it known that she had feelings for him. Aaric asked me what I thought, I told him.”
“He asked your opinion?” she gasps.
“It wasn’t on anything important, just if I thought that they had feelings for one another, it’s not like he asked me anything about the kingdom.”
Hillevi’s eyes widen, then her lips turn up into a smirk as she leans forward. She slurs slightly when she speaks, and I find it hilarious, because she definitely doesn’t seem like the type to drink, especially to excess.
“He asked you something that was more important than an opinion on a farm or a land holding. He asked you how he should proceed with his charge, his sister, whom he loves fiercely. In doing that, he also included you in the kingdom as well. If he breaks the betrothal, it could mean a civil unrest, possibly a war.”
“Oh my,” I exhale.
She leans back, giggling until she hiccups. “Make no mistake, you are not just his dróttning in name only, Liv. You are so much more.”
“I want to be everything,” I admit.
Hillevi reaches toward me, wrapping her hand around mine and squeezes gently. “You are, Liv. You truly are.”
There is a shout outside. Our bodies both freeze, but we slowly turn our heads toward the tent’s flap openings. We don’t even breathe as we wait for what is about to happen. There is another shout, then a roar.
“Shit,” I gasp.
“Hide,” Hillevi grinds out. “Now.”
I stand, frantically my eyes look around the room, but there is nothing for me to hide beneath. Then I see it, the trunk. I run toward the wooden truck, jumping inside as Hillevi slams the lid down.
There is another rumble outside, the ground shakes as I pinch my eyes closed. I don’t know who to pray to, my god or the gods and goddesses of Aaric’s people. He said that I was one of his, so I inhale a shaky breath and start to pray to the goddess’ that Runa and Hillevi have taught me so much about, Itla, Unir, and Vedite.
I don’t know which one I’m supposed to be praying to, I don’t know much about their gods, only that these are the goddesses and most women pray to them instead of the male gods. Keeping my eyes pinched closed tightly, I continue to pray and pray and pray.
Then everything goes silent.
I don’t move.
I’m not just frozen in my little chest, I’m also terrified. Something, someone, could be out there and I am not about to be led into some trap. Forget that shit. I’m staying right here until Gunnar, Hagen, Quest, Hillevi, or Aaric find me.
AARIC
The noise is almost deafening. It is a boom and I slowly turn around in its direction, only to see the fire and smoke plume from the camp. Dark clouds swirl right above the campsite, there is a spark of lightning and then a rumble of thunder.
Liv.
I take one step toward the camp, but Hagen and Sten each reach for one of my biceps and tug me backward. Growling, I look