Ragnar’s POV
“She stays with me. I won't let you throw her out.”
In the centre of the throne room, my father’s eyes darkened.
Dark hair spilt over his forehand, framing a harsh face. In the gloom of the room, my father's face was draped in shadows. But I could make out the exact instant his thin lips pressed into a firm, disapproving line.
My father sat on his throne, drumming his long, slender fingers against the armrest, his expression unreadable. The sound each finger made when they slapped against the wood reached every corner of the hall. Even sitting, my father loomed, his aura and his displeasure choking the atmosphere. The elders stood at his sides, watching the exchange in tense silence.
Then, finally—
“You must be out of your mind.”
His voice was ice and low, but it car
