Rask stood frozen, the defiant silhouette in his eyes vanishing in an instant.
A gasp escaped his throat, a raw pain flaring as if a dull blade had just sliced through his lungs.
After a long moment, the rumbling from the distance shook him from his stupor.
Rask's brow furrowed. He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails had, at some point, dug into his palms, drawing blood that seeped between his fingers.
His Adam's apple bobbed continuously, as if trying to crush a choked sound in his throat. After a moment, he broke into a self-mocking grin. He cast one last glance toward Blackwater Swamp, gritted his teeth, and turned, running in the opposite direction.
Their paths diverged.
He, too, wanted to be like that snake—to make enemies of every tribe in Norfell for the sake of a female.
