Mated To The Barbarian King Who Is My Ex-husband's Father.

He offered no answer to clarify what he had meant by that unsettling warning. They walked together toward the edge of the servants’ camp, where Ragnar suddenly halted, putting a hand up to stop her from following him further.

​"Why?" Arianna’s brows furrowed in confusion. "I thought we were doing this together or have you changed your mind?"

​"I haven’t, Queen Arianna," Ragnar explained, lowering his voice. "I just think it would be far wiser if you aren’t seen skulking around with me. No one should suspect that we are working together."

​"Then what am I supposed to do?" she asked, a surge of impatience breaking through her calm veneer. "I can’t sit around doing nothing while my mind is racing. You don’t understand, Ragnar—it isn’t just my maid’s neck on the line here. It’s mine, too. If I don’t find a way to expose the truth, I will be leaving this pack, dead or alive."

​"No... Kane would never permit that," Ragnar said, genuine surprise flickering across his face. He had been present at the pavilion yesterday, and he had heard no such sentence passed down. "When on earth did he make such a declaration?"

​Arianna stopped dead in her tracks, causing Ragnar to halt alongside her. She let out a weary sigh, realizing he didn’t grasp the subtle lethality of pack politics.

​"Kane didn’t say it explicitly," she explained coldly. "He delegated the authority to your mother, and she looked me dead in the eye yesterday and said it herself. You should have seen how utterly confident she was."

​Ragnar stared at her for a long moment, searching her face before finding his voice. "Kane won’t let her touch you. I am certain of it."

​"I am sure he would," Arianna countered bitterly. "Kane is a King, a son, and a brother before he is a husband, so—"

​"Wait, Queen Arianna, that’s not how it works here," Ragnar interrupted with a faint, incredulous chuckle. "In our tradition, once joined, husband and wife are one. Kane may be the Alpha King, but he will place you above all else when pushed."

​"I wish that were true..." Arianna muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned on her heel and resumed walking. In her eyes, her brother-in-law was living in a fantasy.

​"Come along, Eira," she called back.

​The maid bowed her head quickly and fell into step right behind her mistress, leaving Ragnar standing alone at the boundary of the servants’ quarters.

"I am not lying. He always puts you first... you just don’t see it," Ragnar insisted, catching up to her with long strides. "In this case, it involves your maid, and theft is a serious crime here. The people demand justice, or they will revolt. These are wolves we are talking about."

​Arianna gave a silent nod in the lingering gloom of early morning, unconvinced. She knew Ragnar would always defend Kane; perhaps it was his fierce loyalty to his Alpha, or perhaps it was blind brotherhood.

​They continued down the winding path until they reached the tent where Alara was being kept under guard. Arianna paused outside, her thoughts shifting to the tormented woman inside.

​"Do you want to go in and check on her?" Ragnar asked softly.

​"Yes. There is something I want to show you," Arianna replied, turning to her maid. "Come, Ragnar. Eira, you too."

​She turned to head toward the entrance, but Ragnar called after her, "Your maid isn’t moving."

​Arianna stopped and looked back. Eira was glued to the spot where they had halted, her fingers wringing nervously.

​"I said come, Eira," Arianna repeated.

​"C-can I wait here, Your Highness?" Eira stammered, her voice shaking slightly.

​"Do not be foolish. Come along," Arianna said, turning back toward the tent flap.

​She couldn’t help but shake her head in amusement at Eira’s strange behavior. The girl was clearly head over heels for Ragnar, yet every time he was within five feet of her, she acted as if he carried a contagious plague.

​Ragnar glanced back at the trembling girl and offered her a gentle, reassuring smile. "You don’t have to force yourself, Eira. If you feel uncomfortable, stay out here."

​Arianna caught the exchange and admitted to herself that they looked remarkably sweet together.

Ragnar turned back to Arianna, his expression shifting into seriousness as they stepped past the tent flaps into the dim, heavy silence where Alara lay.

​"Leave the poor girl alone," he said as they entered the tent. The smell of herbs hit her nose. "It’s clear that she doesn’t like seeing all of this."

​"Really? I wanted her to face her fears."

​"Queen Arianna, sometimes it’s better not to face one’s fears if the outcome is already known. I don’t think Eira wants to."

​"Hmm... you know her so well, Prince Ragnar," Arianna chuckled, turning toward the medicine woman who was waiting for them to finish their discussion. "How is she doing?"

​"Not very well, Your Highness. However, we will wait for the Moon Goddess’s intervention," the woman replied.

​"Can you leave us alone for a few seconds?"

​"Sure."

​"Thank you." Arianna waited for her to step outside before turning to the man on her left, finding him staring at her with a smile. "What’s funny, Ragnar?"

​He laughed. "You sounded so polite that I wondered if you were a queen or not. Samantha should learn some manners from you."

​She smiled, shaking her head as she walked to the bedside. "Come and see."

​"What’s going on?" He walked over to where Alara lay unconscious. Her wounds were fresh, and finger imprints marked her face and neck...clear evidence that someone had tried to kill her, though she had miraculously survived. "She looks like she fought with Azrael himself."

​"Who is that?"

*****

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