Page 1 of Obsidian Throne

CHAPTER ONE

EVANDER

Fifty-three days.

Fifty-three storms-damned days since I had seen my wife.

We had only spent one insanely perfect night together before I was ripped away from her, forced to come back here to try to salvage the mess my father and Iiro had collectively made.

I suppressed a scowl as yet another wagon ambled along the road to the Bear Estate, full of Lochlannian goods and manned by yet another flame-haired couple.

Just like every time, I couldn’t help but scrutinize the faces for Rowan’s bright green eyes and mischievous lips.

Of course, she wasn’t there.

That thought should have flooded me with relief. That meant she was actually listening to me and sticking to our plan, which was a wonder in and of itself. It meant she was safe, or as safe as she could hope to be right now.

Nonetheless, my chest felt hollow, and I found myself closing my hand around the signet ring I had worn around my neck since I left.

Herring.

“Is this younotlooking for her again?” Kirill muttered from his spot at my side.

We were waiting outside with the estate regiment, and he was at my left while Taras stood in his place at my right.

I ostensibly ignored Kirill as I surveyed the newest soldiers taking their turn on farming duty in the distance.

It was part of their training now, a way to ensure we made use of the seeds Lochlann had sent without sacrificing the troops I was beginning to suspect we would need. Only a small portion of it was here at the estate, while the rest had already been distributed to the farmland around the villages.

Kirill gave a chuckle at my lack of response, and Taras huffed out his more controlled version of one.

“I’m only saying,” Kirill went on. “You look awfully concerned about someone who, what was it you said?” His features twisted into a semblance of contemplation as he pretended to search for the memory. “You couldn’t care less about, so long as it didn’t affect the clan?”

He had not been thrilled about me taking the princess captive to begin with, so I had made my opinion on the matter clear.

“Technically,” I corrected, my lips twitching, “I said I couldn’t care less about her feelings when the clan was at stake.”

And damn it all if even that hadn’t been a lie.

There was no part about Rowan I could seem to avoid caring about, and now...

Two months was far too long to be away from her. It had been bad enough when I thought she was happy, in Lochlann, moving on with her life.

But now she was mine, and she storms-damned well belonged here. With me. Preferably in my bed.

I was providentially distracted by the memories that always accompanied that particular line of thought when an ostentatious black carriage came into view. It wasn’t hard to guess who had finally arrived.

“Looks like the bastard has finally decided to make his appearance,” Kirill muttered under his breath.

While Bear’s carriages, like everything else here, were accented in white, Iiro had wasted no time in displaying his new correlation to the obsidian throne. The surrounding regiment wore deep purple uniforms with black buttons and no trace of another color.

I clenched my jaw, not sure which brother I was looking forward to seeing the least. Iiro was perhaps one of my two least favorite people in the entire world, tying closely with my dear stepmother.

But I might never rid myself of the mental image of Korhonan’s body pressed over Rowan’s in the tent at the negotiations, his mouth on her neck, the way she had been flushed with pleasure before fury had made her burn an even brighter shade of crimson.

I decided I would rather see the conniving bastard that had managed to trick my father into helping him become king.

Since I had little choice but to go along with his schemes for the time being, I tucked Rowan’s ring inside my shirt, then ordered my men to stand at attention until he exited the carriage. As soon as Iiro was visible, the soldiers dropped to a knee as one.