Rone had taken first blood. Darrien didn’t seem to have noticed. Their axes tangled, and he threw his shoulder into Rone, making him stumble back. With their axes locked, Rone forced Darrien to either move with him or release his hold. Darrien fell forward, knocking Rone down with him. They rolled together, Rone on top first and then Darrien. Both men pushed against their axe handles, trying to gain the advantage.
Darrien spat in Rone’s eyes. For a half second, Rone wavered. Darrien twisted Rone’s axe out of his hands. It landed with a heavy thud, just out of reach. Rone grabbed Darrien’s axe handle, pushing it steadily away.
Darrien jerked it up and to the side, slamming the base into Rone’s temple. Rone’s arms went slack. He groaned.
“No,” Ilyenna gasped. She lurched forward. One of the men grabbed her collar. It dug into her throat.
Darrien reversed the momentum, and the axe bit into Rone’s ribs. Darrien pulled it free. With a wicked grin, he slowly stood. His back to Ilyenna, he drew his axe over his head.
With a tearing sound, she managed to jerk free. “Please, no!” She threw herself over Rone, shielding him.
Darrien stood over her, Rone’s blood dripping down his axe onto his face. Darrien hesitated, then slowly lowered his axe. “What will you give me?” he whispered, triumph in his eyes.
Ilyenna felt the second crack in her soul. “Whatever you want.” The words came easier than she’d expected. It was so easy to betray her clan and herself to save the man she loved.
Darrien looked behind her. She followed his gaze to see Burdin cautiously approaching. Darrien smiled softly. “Swear it.”
“I swear it.” Her voice broke.
He nodded. “It’s done then.” He freed his hands from his shield and reached toward her.
She hesitated, staring at his hand, smeared with Rone’s blood. Slowly, her gaze shifted to Rone. Though unconscious, he was breathing. He was alive. If she refused, Darrien would see those precious breaths ended.
Without taking her eyes from Rone, she slipped her hand into Darrien’s. He pulled her to her feet. Burdin came up beside them and made sure Rone was indeed alive, then shot a questioning look at Darrien.
Darrien’s act was firmly back in place. Loudly enough for the entire crowd to hear, he said, “Taking Rone’s life will do nothing to erase the enmity between the Tyrans and Argons. My hope in sparing him is that he’ll forgive the wrongs committed by my father and myself, allowing the business of healing to begin.”
Burdin nodded cautiously. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Darrien lifted Ilyenna’s hand, stroking the thin veins with his thumb. “I cannot take back what I have done to Ilyenna, but I can do my best to make it right. I will marry her.” He looked at her with something close to compassion in his eyes. Knowing how false it was, she shuddered. “That way, she’ll have the chance for marriage—something my actions took away from her.”
Burdin searched her gaze. “Ilyenna?”
“It’s the only way.”
Apparently surprised by her change of heart, the high chief continued to scrutinize her. “Children between the two of you would go a long way to healing the enmity between the Tyrans and Shyle,” he finally said.
And guarantee Darrien regains his title as a clan chief, Ilyenna thought bitterly, because what good was saying it? Burdin would willingly throw a lamb to the wolves if it meant saving the flock.
Burdin’s next words seemed more for himself than for her. “You’re sure, Ilyenna?
Yes, the villain walks away the hero. And none of you know the difference. Still, she remained silent.
Darrien brushed the blood from his wounded cheek with his free hand. “Come, Ilyenna. Let us return to the Tyran camp.”
She let herself be led away, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking back. Varris was lifting Rone’s head. His eyes blinked open. He glanced around in confusion before his gaze locked with Ilyenna’s. Then the crowd blocked her view.
She still heard Rone’s hoarse shout. “Ilyenna! Curse you!”
Her soul shattered into a thousand pieces.
22. A Promise
Ilyenna passed through the Tyran encampment with her head down. She felt the Tyrans’ eyes on her. Soon, Darrien lifted the flap to the center tent and gestured for her to enter. He stepped in behind her and secured the flap. She felt his gaze on her back, but she didn’t look up. She couldn’t. She was the walking dead.
Finally, Darrien moved. She heard the scrape of wood on wood and the slosh of liquid in a mug. The unmistakable smell of Riesen whiskey burned Ilyenna’s nostrils. She heard him throw it back, swallow, and let out a satisfied “ahh.” The mug hit the table and he sat heavily. “Well, I have to admit this all worked out better than I dared hope.”
“You had doubts?”
He chuckled. “A game as complicated as this rarely turns out so well.” He was silent for a time. “Really, Ilyenna, you’ve done me many favors—favors I both love and hate you for. You killed my brother. Your father killed mine, allowing me to become the Tyran clan chief long before even I’d planned.”
“You’re not the clan chief. Not anymore.”
Ambition glittered in Darrien’s eyes. “I will be. Believe that.”
She did. She turned and scrutinized him. “He was your father. Have you no sorrow?”
Darrien looked away. “It is unfortunate. But he would’ve died sooner or later.” He sniffed loudly and shrugged. “For me, sooner was better.”
She was going to marry a monster. A monster who would share her bed and raise her child—Rone’s child. She pressed her lips together. If Darrien even suspected a piece of Rone grew within her, he’d kill it. That meant she had to share his bed. And soon. She shuddered. “What about me? Is sooner better for me, too?”
He studied her dispassionately. “We need children, Ilyenna. You know that.” He poured himself another drink and threw it back, then stood and walked toward her.
Unable to stop herself, she backed away. “Why?”
Darrien smiled, the same cruel, wicked smile she’d seen him wear before he did something brutal. She backed up until she could go no farther. He took the last few steps slowly, drawing out her fear. His hot whiskey breath blew against her skin. She looked away. He tugged off the cord holding her braid in place, pulled it loose, and ran his hands through her hair.
Had Rone really done the same only a few hours before?
He brushed her neck with the backs of his fingers, then rested his hand around her neck. Just a little squeeze and he’d be choking her. “I’ve always been fascinated by you. You’re so . . . different from the other clanwomen.”
Ilyenna grimaced. She’d always been different. Dark eyed. Thin. She’d always hated being unusual, standing out when she’d wanted nothing more than to fit in. She hated it even more now.
He caressed the skin above the collar of her undershirt. “Not many things pull my attention away from my pursuit of power. And none of them fight the way you did.” He bent down, nuzzling the skin he’d just caressed. “Won’t you fight, Ilyenna? Just a little?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “You cannot hurt one who is already dead.”
He started undoing the laces of her underdress. “Oh, come now. I know the fire still burns in you. Let it flare up again. This won’t be nearly as much fun without it.”
She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she felt salty blood pooling in her mouth.
“Darrien Tyran!” came the shout from outside.
Ressa. Ilyenna nearly cried out in relief.
Darrien groaned and closed his eyes. “That woman will suffer a most abominable death.” There was a promise in his words that took Ilyenna’s breath away. He backed a step away from her and then another. She sucked in a deep breath and eagerly scooted away from him.
“Yes, Clan Mistress?” he shouted.
“It’s against tradition for an engaged clan mistress to stay with her betrothed’s clan. Since Ilyenna’s clan isn’t present, I offer the Riesens’ hospitality.”
“Traditions,” Darrien growled under his breath.
Without invitation, Ressa entered the tent, letting in a fresh gust of air. Behind her came four of the Riesens’ strongest men. Ilyenna practically ran to the woman’s side.
Ressa took one look at Ilyenna’s loosed hair and the laces undone below her throat and grabbed her like she’d never let go. “I could go speak to Burdin about this.”
Ilyenna recognized Ressa’s words for the threat they were. Apparently, so did Darrien. “Come, there’s no need for that. Ilyenna and I’ve already shared a bed. What’s the difference now?”
Ressa smiled, but it looked more like she was baring her teeth. “Whether or not that is true,” she spat, “Ilyenna deserves to be treated with respect. After what you’ve admitted doing to her, I cannot imagine you would disagree.”
Darrien narrowed his eyes into a glare. “Careful, Clan Mistress.”
Ressa returned his glare as she backed away, still firmly gripping Ilyenna. “Oh, I’m always careful.”
The moment Ilyenna left the stuffy tent, she sucked in air like she’d never get enough. Outside, twilight was coming on. Oblivious to her plight, the people had already begun their revelry.