Page 67 of The Kraken Bride

I met his gaze and refused to look away. “He’s held that rune before. Gave it to your mother. Saw what it made her, just as you did.” My voice remained firm. I would not be backing down. “He might have information we need. So, ja. I’ll attend his dinner. I’ll accept his blood oath. And I will take every word out of his mouth apart until I find the one that saves you.”

He shook his head. “I would rather die than send you into his midst. My mother died for that rune. My wife will not. I will get it back.”

“And let you fight your worst nightmare before the real battle begins, when strength matters? Nein. That’s what he wants. You have been exhausting him, ja? Just as we discussed? This is probably payback.”

“I will not change my mind on this, Brona. You stay.”

“Wrong. I go.”

Harpa stood, and for the first time since I’d met her, the Raving Pearl appeared her age. “If you wanted a doormat, Basty, you would have married someone else. We leave in one hour.”

Chapter

Twenty-Two

He will keep every word of his promise. That should frighten you.

–An Incomplete Guide to Kraken Survival

Sebastian stopped me at the door of our chamber. He didn’t touch me at all; simply filled the doorway, hands in his pockets, fury and fear crackling in his eyes.

“Don’t do this, Bronwyn.”

I winced. He’d used my name rather than a nickname. “I must.” I fastened the last clasp of the traveling cloak Soley had laid out for me. My fingers shook, but I forced them to still. “Bastian⁠—”

“Would you like a list of reasons I’d like you to stay?” he interjected, cutting me off. His voice remained perfectly level, every emotion locked behind the iron discipline of a king. “You will be underwater, outside my dome, beyond my immediate reach. Seated at a table with the thing that ate my father, pieces of my mother, my finger and yours. And when he springs the trap hidden inside his oath, you’ll be hurt.” His jaw flexed. “I’ll be here, where I’ll feel every second of your pain.”

The bond carried all the things he hadn’t said. Not just fear, I realized, but terror. Old and bottomless, born when he’d stood helpless in his mother’s blood.

My darling Bastian. I crossed to him and flattened a palm over his heart, over the rune. “Harpa is the best warrior in Krakenströnd. Those are your words. I’m not too shabby myself, I’ve learned. We’ll be okay. And before you protest, don’t. This is my home too,” I told him, quiet but firm. “Its king is willing to die for it, and so is its queen. Not that I will die,” I rushed to add when his expression promised a truly spectacular argument. “I want Jokull destroyed without having to sacrifice the man I love.” The words slipped free, but I meant them. I loved this man.

His eyes widened. “You love me?”

“So, so much.” I rose onto my toes and kissed him, and for one breath he kissed me back so hard I would feel him for days. Then he pulled away, breathing like a drowning man surfacing.

“Why didn’t I fall in love with a doormat?” he growled, and I chuckled. “I have never once been able to make you do anything.”

“Ja. That’s true.” I stroked his jaw. “And it’s one of my finer qualities, if I do say so myself.”

He didn’t laugh, but he did press his brow to mine. “I love you, Brona. You have a kind heart. You’re brave, and funny, and you aren’t afraid to challenge me. You are my everything.”

I felt his love. His and mine, flowing between us, twining, becoming ours. Overcome, I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight. My determination drilled deeper. I would do whatever proved necessary to keep him alive and us together.

We stood like that for several seconds. He flattened his palm over the brand, mirroring my action. “Signal me if anything goes sideways. If Jokull even breathes in your direction wrong. Tap thrice, and I’ll come.”

I nodded, throat aching.

“Oath or no oath. Dome or no dome,” he said. “If I think, even for a moment, things have gone badly, I will tear the ocean in half to get you.”

“I know,” I whispered. And I did.

Then I walked away to meet Harpa and face the big bad.

The half-drowned manor sat on a mountain of black rock a hundred miles from anywhere, in a dome of its own. A dome we’d slipped past, as if it were nothing but mist. Every window above the waterline blazed with golden light. He’d lit it like a wedding.

“You have no reason to worry,” Harpa said, sitting across from me in the small boat as we sailed under a darkening sky, through thick fog. “I’m eighty-seven percent sure I can get us out.”

I swallowed a groan. “I’m not worried.” One way or another, we would be leaving tonight. “Have you been where we’re going before?” I asked.