Damned Thornes, both father and daughter. If he’d known they’d be so difficult to deal with, he’d have left Calista for Magnus and chosen another bride. Damned pride that pushed him to take as much as he could from the Ironfist. Thorne had had no choice but to allow the marriage, but he’d still chosen to complicate matters. “What do you offer my daughter other than this keep?” he’d said, unable to prevent the smugness from creeping into his tone. “The keep she’s grown up in, when Magnus offers Highspring Moor.” The barb had stung, but Torch had no choice but to bear it. At this juncture, he wasn’t about to reveal his true identity to a man he did not trust. Not that Thorne was likely to take him at his word, for all that. “I offer her protection, which is more than Magnus can.” “Do you really believe that, when the man can raise an army of ten thousand and surrounds himself with guards?” Torch pushed aside thoughts of his sister and brother. When he was finished with the Usurper, Magnus was going to need every last guard to protect his sorry hide.
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