So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)

“Guards!” Gunther yelled. “Go after Seven! I want him captured now!”

One of them inclined his head. “Your Majesty, all the horses have escaped the pen and run into the forest.”

“Then get them, you fool!” Gunther smacked the guard on the head. “And bring that Seven back. I want to see the bastard hang.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The guard dashed off with a dozen more guards into the nearby forest.

“That’s twice now my camp has been destroyed,” Gunther growled. He turned to scan the village in the distance. “No harm came to them. Why does the wind keep striking us?”

“Seven is behind it,” Mador declared.

“What?” Gunther gave him an incredulous look. “How can that bastard control the forces of nature?”

“I believe he is a Wind Sorcerer.”

Gunther huffed. “I thought there was something evil about him. That damned foreigner.”

Brigitta grew tense. She didn’t want them figuring out that Seven was the infamous pirate Rupert.

“What are you doing standing around?” Gunther glared at Mador. “Capture Seven and get this mess cleaned up. We leave for Lourdon in the morning.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Mador strode away, yelling orders.

“And you.” Gunther turned to Brigitta. “Pack your things. As soon as we arrive in Lourdon, we’ll have the wedding.” He stomped back into his tent.

With a heavy heart, Brigitta trudged toward the wreck that was once her tent. It seemed fitting, since everything in her life was now wrecked. Her future with Rupert. His takeover of the throne. Hopefully, he would make it back to Lourdon in time to rescue the imprisoned contestants.

But what would he do then? Would he abandon her, believing that she had betrayed him? Would she be forced to marry Captain Mador? She shuddered. How could she let Rupert know that she still loved him? How could she tell him that she’d found his little brother?

At least Bjornfrid was safe for now.

A few soldiers raised her tent so she was able to pack. Her heart ached with despair as she contemplated her bleak future. Her sisters were gone. Rupert was gone. So many times he’d told her Don’t leave me, but it was he who had done the leaving.

She had to leave, too, she suddenly realized. The camp was a mess and soldiers were scurrying about paying her no mind, so this was the perfect time for her to steal away.

Marriage to Captain Mador? Never! She had to take charge of her own destiny.

With a deep breath, she filled herself with renewed strength and determination. You can do this! She dressed in her warmest clothes and checked to make sure her knife was strapped to her thigh. It was a shame she didn’t have any gold. She’d given it all to Sister Fallyn to help her take care of Bjornfrid. But if the horses were running loose, perhaps she could find one and ride south. It was a long way to Eberon, but if she could just reach Luciana, she would be safe. And from there, she could help Rupert win back the throne.

She slipped out of the tent and across the camp. The soldiers were so busy, none of them stopped her. Once she made it to the forest, she weaved through the trees, carefully avoiding the soldiers.

There! In a grassy clearing, a horse was munching on grass. It was even saddled. She sent a prayer of thanks to the moon goddesses as she slowly approached.

“Where are you going?” a voice spoke behind her.

She spun around. Mador. Why hadn’t she recognized his voice? She eased back a step. She was closer to the horse than him. If she could just make it before— “Did you think you could escape, Princess?” He snorted. “Does the idea of bedding me make you want to run away? Perhaps it would help if I looked like this.” His features wavered, then solidified into another face.

Rupert.

She gasped. How could he…? So this was how he had tricked her to get the seal. But how had he known that she had it?

He stepped closer. “Or perhaps I should look like this.” His skin turned a leathery red, and horns jutted from his brow. His breath hissed through sharp and jagged teeth.

Terror slithered icy cold down her spine.

He changed back to Mador, then lunged forward to grab her before she could run away.

Her gift instantly ignited, detecting a hoard of secrets, as many as Rupert had, but so deeply buried she could only see a dark mist surrounded by rage, hatred, and pain. “You’re not Captain Mador.” His voice was different, and there was an odd, silvery glint to his eyes.

“I can be anyone. If you cooperate, I’ll give you the face you want. Defy me, and you will be plowed by a demon.”

She cringed. “Who—what are you?”

“The future king of Tourin. And your future husband.”

“I will never marry you.”

“Would you rather die?” He slid a hand up to seize her by the neck. “I’ve killed so many, I’ve become quite good at it.”

She swallowed hard. “You can’t kill me. You need me to take the throne.”

He smirked as his fingers stroked her neck. “You’re a clever one. Beautiful, too. I’ve been watching you for over a week now. Can you guess what I discovered?” He leaned close till his breath feathered her cheek and sent a shudder down her spine. “An incredibly strong desire to fuck you.”

She flinched.

His hand tightened around her neck. “You did this to me. I’ve never wanted a woman badly enough before to change my plans. I had intended to kill Gunther and take his place.” His face shifted into a perfect replica of her brother’s. “See how easy it would have been?

“But then I started wanting you, and that created a problem.” He chuckled. “We can’t have Gunther fucking his own sister now, can we? So I had to take Mador’s place. He’s a subservient idiot, but not for long. I’ll become king, and you, my dear, will be my queen.”

“Never.” She struggled to break his hold on her. If only she could reach her knife! What else had Rupert taught her? She took a deep breath and quickly lifted her knee.

The false Mador jumped back, releasing her.

She ran for the horse, but was jerked back by her braided ponytail. She winced as he twisted her hair in his fist.

“Bitch.” He pulled her back and whispered in her ear, “Go ahead and fight me. I’ll enjoy winning and forcing myself on you.”

She gritted her teeth against the pain. “Never.”

“Oh, you will surrender. I know exactly how to make you behave.” He raised his voice. “Guards!”

When two guards ran toward them, he handed her over.

“The princess attempted an escape,” he said, his voice now sounding like Mador’s. “Take her to her tent, and don’t let her out.”

“Yes, Captain.” One of the guards seized her by an arm, and his companion took her by the other arm.

As they dragged her off, she glanced back and saw the false Mador jump on the saddled horse and ride away.

When the guards escorted her past Gunther’s tent, she dug in her feet. “I need to see the king. Take me there.”

“We have orders—”

“I’m still the princess, and I demand to see my brother!”