Page 129 of White Raven

“Shut up.” He tugged at his tunic, wiggling it up past his hips. “The gods will accept this union, declare my right to the White Raven.”

“No! Stop!”

His knees pressed into my hips, holding me still. He gripped himself, fumbling to find my entrance.

A growl so deep I felt it in my bones came from behind the king. Gloved hands clutched the king’s shoulders, his body wrenched off me. The king hit the platform with a thud, tangling in his robe as he rolled.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Stunned, his features quickly morphed into fury, shrieking at the masked sentinel. “You will be put to death for this! How dare you interfere! I am your king!” He stood up, pointing at the masked shield. “Night Hunters, kill him!”

Movement stirred in the crowd as a horn shrilled in the distance.

Everyone’s attention whipped out into the dark forest surrounding us as the blare of an ox horn sounded again, the rumble of horse hooves moving in close.

King Helvig came to attention, although a flicker of confusion and weariness briefly clouded his eyes before his spine went straight.

“Night Hunters!” he barked out. “Invaders! Defend your kingdom! Do not let them near the White Raven!”

Cries came from the crowd as people scattered in chaos. Most wore simple tunics, not ready for an attack.

Brynn, Renyx, Sven, and Bjørn reacted instantly, forming a line, the only ones dressed properly, their weapons in hand, as other guards joined them.

Hope thundered in my chest.

Father.

He had come for me.

Maybe Brynden had reached him, or maybe it had all been a ruse. It didn’t matter; my king was here to save me.

Horse hooves hit the ground, at least twenty riders breaking through the trees. My head twisted, waiting to see the silvery coat of my father’s steed, Bodil, or even my horse, Asta, knowing she was smart enough to find her way home after Onyx set her free.

However, only darkness moved in, like shadows with obsidian eyes, the firelight glistening off their fangs, their riders hooded, holding swords and bows.

The Jackals.

Terror gripped my chest as dozens and dozens of them rode into the clearing. Screams pierced the sky as arrows whooshed through the air. There was no talk, no negotiation or compromise.

They came to kill.

“Your Majesty!” The other masked guard shielded him.

King Gavric ripped the sword from his grip, shoving the man aside.

“Get her back to the castle! Now! Do not let anything happen to her!” he ordered before he leaped down, joining those who could fight.

My father was no different; kings should never be afraid to go into battle, to be on the ground with their people. It was in the Raven blood. We grouped together to fight, driving out the foreigner.

The guard moved for me as ordered when a draugrhest neighed from nearby, an arrow whooshing the air, piercing the shield’s chest and tumbling him off the dais. The hooded rider galloped closer—I could feel its eyes on me.

I was the target.

“Go!” Onyx waved off Morrigan, rushing to me. His blade sliced through the leather straps, freeing my arms and legs. “Come on!” he bellowed, helping me off the table.

Blood leaked through my gown, but I felt nothing as Onyx pulled me behind the altar to hide.

“Keep your head down,” he hissed. The zing of arrows rang in the sky, the clash of swords and screams wailing in harmony.

From my position I could see Brynn and Renyx battling, working in tandem, fierce soldiers against the cannibals.