My Second Chance Mate is a Barbarian (Sera and Fenris) novel Chapter 164

Irina

"They'll kill me! Fuck! Irina, you bitch! They're going to cut me open! They'll kill me!"

He started pouring out all his grief right there on the dirt-streaked stone. He was sobbing, snot running into his beard, his hands clutching his own head as if he could hold his thoughts together.

"You only care about yourself!" he shrieked at me. "Why would you do this to me? I loved you! I risked everything for you! You fucking bitch! You're going to die for this. You will die a miserable, lonely death in this frost. Your daughter is going to be the one to end your life, Irina! Do you hear me? She hates you! And Aldric... gods, Aldric will boil you alive when he finds out you've been fucking a barbarian! I hate you! I fucking hate you!"

I just stared at him. I watched him spiral, watched him weep and curse my name, and I felt... nothing. I couldn't say I felt a single spark of remorse. I couldn't even find it in me to pity him. It was like a part of my brain—the part that handled things like empathy or regret—had simply been turned off.

I looked at him and saw a tool that had reached the end of its usefulness.

When I first stepped onto this frozen hellscape, I actually thought I could make amends. I told myself I was here to find a way to fix what happened when I let Aldric sell Sera to the Volkov house. I thought if I could find a way to maintain the treaty without her, I could take her back to Valdris. I thought Aldric wouldn't care.

But I knew that was a lie I told myself to sleep at night.

Aldric had sent Sera here for one reason: control. He didn't want a treaty; he wanted a trigger. He needed Sera to have the Alpha’s ear so he could eventually get his hands on Fenris and start his takeover of the different houses. He wanted the Butcher as his personal attack dog.

But Sera didn't play along. She didn't stay the calm little girl we raised her to be. She didn't even take long to become one of these people. There was no saving her. She had become so cocky, so arrogant in her new skin, that it was actually annoying to watch. I knew I had lost her the second she caught me in that room with Torin.

She had been smart enough to use my own betrayal to her advantage. And now Yvara—this scarred, Northern bitch—thinks Sera is taking after me?

"You are wrong," I said, looking directly at Yvara.

I let out a short, hysterical laugh that turned into a wince as the dagger in my side shifted. I clutched the armrests of the chair, my knuckles white.

"You have it all wrong," I wheezed. "You called me a coward. You called me a hypocrite. You're right. I am those things. I am a survivor. I shrink so I don't get stepped on." I chuckled, the sound wet and ugly. "But Sera? Sera is none of those things."

Yvara tilted her head, watching me with narrowed eyes.

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