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The Viking's Bride (Viking Warriors Book 1) Page 8
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“You will hear things. Things that will stay with you for the rest of your life, but you won’t see them. Not if you keep looking at me. Do you understand?” he asks again.
I nod, never taking my eyes away from his. A murderous scream rips through the air, and my mouth opens to scream, but Einarr shoves his hand over my mouth to silence me. “I know,” he whispers, but it doesn’t stop the trembling taking over my body.
A knife cuts, a gurgle sounds, and something falls hard on the earth floor. I’ve never known such violence before. My father kept me safe within the walls of the castle, so I never saw a drop of blood or an act of such hatred. He kept me sheltered. I feel out of my depth. I don’t know what to do or how to act. I just want to cry and scream and run.
Far, far away.
“It’s a damn Jackal!” Grim snarls and the determined pounding of his feet shake the earth as he marches over to me.
“You’re fine now,” Einarr says in a monotone voice. Something tells me that is his way of comforting someone, even when he doesn’t know how.
I don’t say anything, because I am far from fine. I am not fine at all. In less than a day, I’ve been traded and almost kidnapped. Nothing about this situation is fine.
“Hey, Princess.” Grim kneels in front of me, and the veil of fear lifts. Einarr stands and walks over, to where I assume the body is because all of a sudden I hear something dragging along the forest floor.
I whimper, scurrying over to Grim. Nothing about this is fine, but he is. He is fine. He seems safe. “I’ve never…”
He wipes the tear off my cheek and gives me a sad smile. “I know. You’re fine. You’re safe. You must promise not to run anymore. It killed me to find you gone. I hardly know you, but it killed me worse than any sword ever could.”
“I’m frightened. Of this life, of so many things.” I hide my face in my hands, feeling like such a coward. Is this what life is truly like beyond the walls of the village? I can see why women count on men for survival. I don’t want that to be me.
“You fear me, Sassa?” he asks.
“I fear of what you can do, but I do not fear you. You are the one thing I know I don’t.”
“Hold onto that. We need to go though. We have a day’s ride ahead to make.” He helps me up, and I shout as my ankle gives out. Grim catches me and lifts me into his arms. “Are you alright?”
“My ankle.” I wince as he sets me atop of the beast he calls a horse. He lifts my dress, and even the small electric touch from his fingers brings my body to life. I glance over to Einarr, who is strapping the man who tried to kidnap me on the horse.
I hiss as Grim touches the part of my ankle that hurts. “Ow, ow, ow!”
“It’s a small sprain. You’ll be fine.”
“I know I shall be!” I push my dress back down and wipe my tears.
He smirks. “There she is.” He stands up and plants a soft kiss on my knee.
He jumps on the saddle behind me and grabs the reins. “Ready, Einarr?”
“Aye.”
“I want to stop right outside the Jackal territory. I want to put this man’s head through a spear as a warning. Somehow, they knew about her. Maybe the boy was right. Maybe the Jackals are planning an attack against us. They will use her now.”
The thought is terrifying. “What’s a Jackal?”
He moves my hair over my shoulder and kisses the side of my neck. “Your innocence is beautiful. I’m sorry it is tainted now.” He sighs. “Jackals are considered rogues who were exiled or left their kingdom. They are their own force, but the boy said the Jackals split apart and are no more.”
“What would they want with me?” I ask, leaning my head against his chest as we rode.
“Same thing I wanted from your father. Perhaps they want an alliance. It would make them more feared than they already are. To have the power, wealth, and daughter of a King? Villages around would fear them.”
“Would a warlord?” I ask, staring up into the sculpted face of my savior.
“Never.” He flashes those ice-blue eyes at me before looking straight ahead again.
“I’m sorry I ran,” I say after a few moments of silence.
“We shall talk about it later.”
The way he says the statement sends a delicious wave of anticipation through my body. “Yes, sir.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I clamp my lips shut. I can’t believe I just said that. It felt good, though. It felt good to surrender to him and not fight everything anymore. Maybe that is why I want him so. He is strong. A warrior. A leader. He can handle my surrender but appreciate my fight for independence.
“I want you to say that while my cock is buried deep inside you,” he whispers with a wink, causing my face to heat immediately.
I can feel the hard ridge of his erection, rubbing against me. It reminds me of just earlier tonight, when he came all over me, marking me. I want that to happen again.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper in response, trying the words out on my tongue.
He growls, and the vibrations tickle my ear. “Behave. Now, you’re just testing me.”
I giggle and press a kiss to his Adam’s apple. I close my eyes and let the rocking of the horse put me to sleep. The steady beat of his heart plays against my ear, and the pain in my ankle dulls to a low throb. I yawn, inhaling the scent of Grim Hohlt. He smells of pine and fresh water with a hint of musk.
I find that for the first time in my life, I want to stay right where I am, and the only thing I want to run to is him.
Chapter Twelve
Grim
It has been a long ride to the edge of where Jackal territory began. I’m not sure what is going on with the rogue group, but I’ve decided I need to keep a better eye on them. I’ll check in with the guards and the patrol around the village to make sure no more trespassers enter.
The wind howls around us, wafting over the first few flakes of snow from the blizzard coming. We need to hurry and get back, or we will never make it home for weeks. I hop off the horse, leaving a disgruntled, sleepy Sassa behind. Since she doesn’t have me to use as a headrest, she has to stay awake until I return.
Einarr keeps an eye on her as I carry the dead body to the edge of the boundary, dropping it on the ground. I’d like to see them dare try to take what is mine. I will rain hell on anyone who tries to touch her. I will abolish any and all men who encroach on my territory. The breeze blows my hair as I turn and walk back to my horse, chilling my cheeks.
I hop back on the horse, and Sassa falls against my chest again. And the anger toward the Jackals decreases as her hand touches my chest. I feel her shiver from the cold whipping in the wind, and I take my fur off and cover her body with it. Her teeth stop clicking together as the warmth of the fur starts to do its job. I’m used to this kind of weather. I live for it. I barely feel the bite of the winter as it slashes against my skin.
“I have an extra fur if you want one,” Einarr offers as we start our journey home.
“I’m fine. I’m used to it.”
“You’re an animal. I fucking hate being cold.”
“You picked the wrong country to live in if that’s the case, Brother,” I reply with a small chuckle as we vanish into the woods, away from the Jackals. Right now, they are circulating to another area, but this is their home base. We are lucky that they are on the move right now, or we would have been overtaken and killed.
Strength in numbers. We are nothing but two.
“Nay, you are here. Wherever my brother is, I am,” he states, staring into the fog of the calm before the snowstorm.
“Aye,” I nod, trying to ignore how sentimental he just got. Einarr doesn’t do feelings. He almost doesn’t understand them. He is like a wild animal trying to tame itself, but no matter how hard he tries, he falls back into survival mode.
“I think she will make a good wife for you and a good Queen. She has fire and determination to be even stronger than she was the second before.”
“Th
ank you, Einarr. It is surprising. I did not expect to feel anything toward her, but now, I couldn’t care less about her father. I just want her safe.” I wrap one hand around her waist and pull her close to my body.
Years ago, back when I was just a boy, my father told me having a weak woman was the only way to truly succeed. He said that the women must be obedient and bend to a man’s will. If they do, then the man can be happy and run his kingdom smoothly.
Over the years, though, I saw how he treated my mother. She was miserable in his presence. She hated life, but she loved me. I think I was the only reason she decided to never jump off those cliffs to get away from the cruelty my father loved to inflict. He wasn’t a good man. I’m not a good man either, but I’m a better man than him, and I hope the gods and goddesses above can see that.
Toward the end of my father’s rule, he started to lose his mind. My mother kept losing herself, sinking further into her own mind, until one day, I snapped my fingers in front of her, and she didn’t move a muscle. She was alive, but not coherent. And I believe it was a way to get away from the abuse of my father’s hands. Her mind, however deep she lost herself in it, was her safe place.
And that is when I learned that a strong, healthy wife is the backbone of a man. My father lost his mind; the more my mother drifted from him. He hated that he couldn’t control her one day. A mad woman, and a mad man ruling the people caused a break in our society.
And I want my kingdom to be a safe place for all. I don’t ever want anyone losing themselves. I want to be able to count on my woman to have my back. I want to be able to count on my woman to hold a sword and to kill an enemy if needed. I want a woman who knows when I need to fuck and when I need her to fuck me and ride my cock until I black-out.
I need a woman to question me because no one else will.
And I have her in my arms. She is naïve to the cruelty of life, but that doesn’t mean her fire isn’t just as bright as a warrior ready to lead a war. Not only will she command people with her beauty, but her mind as well. I’m a lucky man.
I don’t doubt for one second that she will give me a hard time every step of the way, but her mouth, when she spews that hellcat attitude, makes my cock harder than stone. When she starts to give me lip, I can’t wait to rip her clothes off and throw her on the bed where we can angrily fuck each other until her nails break my skin and my bite marks linger on her neck.
Fuck, my cock twitches just thinking about it. I hope she makes me mad all the damn time.
I feel a hard slap on the back of my head, which has me drawing my blade out of my holster. “What the fuck, Einarr?”
“Have you heard anything I’ve said in the last ten minutes? By the lovestruck look in your eye, I’d say not. You can’t be distracted by her. If you are, maybe having a Queen isn’t what is best.”
I stop my horse and press the knife against his throat. We do this to each other all the time. I’ll never kill him, but I want him to understand the severity of my next words. “Einarr, if you or anyone lays a hand on her or tries to take her from me, I shall burn this entire country to the ground.”
“You don’t even know her. Admit it; she is just a piece of ass to warm your bead and gain your wealth. She is nothing more. Stop pretending she is.”
I curl my lip and press the tip of the knife further into his skin until a bead of blood drips free. “I’m warning you, Einarr,” I growl, doing my best to remain calm.
“What are you hoping for? Are you hoping for love?”
“What of it?” I spit.
“A king only falls when his heart dies,” he recites another memory in a smooth, lifeless tone.
“What are you saying?”
He turns his copper gaze to me, the snow sticking to his beard. “I’m saying be prepared to not want to be a warlord when your Queen dies, whether it is tomorrow or fifty years from now.”
“Hopefully I have sons by then, and if I do, I shall gladly fall.”
“Why the change of heart? You were so set on gaining only power, Grim.”
The day passes by, and we finally approach our territory. The snow is really coming down, and the village seems quiet. Everyone is inside trying to stay warm. “I saw her. That was it.”
“You knew when you saw her? Like love at first sight? Shite, I don’t believe in that for a minute,” he chuckles.
“Aye. The moment I saw her surrounded by water, her umber locks fanned around her, and her breasts staring at the moon hanging in the sky, something changed. My heart made room for more.”
“Made room for more? More of what?”
“Life… love… I don’t know. I just felt something shift for her. I saw her and wanted to pound on my chest that she was mine.” I stop before the stable, hop off my stallion, and lead him into a warm, dry stall. Einarr does the same. Once the saddles are off and hay is on the ground for the horses to eat, along with fresh water, we go on our way home.
I carry my forbidden princess in my arms, a woman that no man thought he could have, and walk to the cabin. I keep the fur over her, and the snow melts against my skin as it hits me like a million needles. Einarr is next to me, following me to his own home. He lives right next door. We made sure of that when we built the village with our bare hands.
We come to a stop in front of my cabin, and he stares off into the distance before turning his attention on me. I can’t read his expression. He is always so closed off, but when his eyes glance down at her, the middle of his brows furrow, like he doesn’t understand her, or perhaps he does, and he is trying to figure it out.
“Such a delicate creature, Grim,” he comments.
“She is stronger than you make her out to be.”
He shakes his head at my words. “Not delicate here,” he says as he points to his head. “But definitely here…” He points to his heart. “I wish I knew what to tell you to do to care for it, but I do not know. Women are fragile. It is our duty to be their strength.”
Another sentence that sounds like a memory. “They have their own strength.”
He looks at her again with a frown tugging at his lips. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he turns, his fur swaying in the breeze as he runs up the steps to his cabin, slamming the door.
“I guess it’s just you and me,” I whisper to a sleeping beauty.
I trudge up the steps, kick the door open, and shut it behind me with the same foot. “We are home,” I say, gently laying her down in the large pile of furs and blankets I have. The snow picks up outside, and the draft of the breeze comes up through the wall, tingling my skin. Gathering some wood, I toss it in the fireplace, get some pine needles, and strike a fire. It roars quickly, climbing up the back of the chimney, and warms the small room.
She turns over, pulling up a giant bearskin over her as she gets more comfortable. The torn part of her dress falls off her shoulder, revealing her flawless, ivory skin. I want to kill that man all over again when I remember how she got the tear in the first place.
I sit on my haunches and put my elbows against my knees as I watch her sleep. I don’t blame her for running. She was put in a situation that changed her life very quickly, and I just hate that she felt the need to run from me.
Sassa rolls over again and whimpers. Her brows pull together, and she starts to shake her head. “No,” she grumbles and kicks.
I crawl in next to her and wrap my arm around her. “Shhh, it’s alright. Grim is here.”
She hears my voice through the nightmare and buries her face in my chest and inhales. She calms in the next moment and sighs with relief. I kiss the top of her head, knowing exactly how she feels.
Tomorrow, we shall marry. It must happen soon. Her being unclaimed is more dangerous, and when people get word that she is mine, she shall be safer, and then we will be able to begin our lives together. A brutal Viking and an innocent princess changing each other, for better and worse.
Eventually, the Viking won’t be so brutal, and the princess shall not be s
o innocent. And I feel a sliver of guilt for taking that from her. I close my eyes and chuckle as the fire cracks, defrosting my frozen skin.
I’m already changing.
Chapter Thirteen
Sassa
The morning is a blur. I don’t know what I expected when Grim came to my father and demanded my hand in marriage. I expected a courtship—not long or drawn out, but something. Right now, though, a few women are preparing me for my wedding that is supposed to happen in a few hours.
And it is a traditional Viking wedding, full of barbaric traditions like a blood sacrifice. That doesn’t bother me as much as this quick marriage. I want to get to know Grim. I know I am attracted to him and how he makes me feel, but I have no idea what I am getting into here. Everything I have done in my life—the attempt to not marry a man because I want my freedom—is gone.
It all happened so fast. I was sitting on the swing, enjoying the sun, and then Grim came. My life changed right before my eyes, and now I have women I don’t know touching my hair and primping my dress. I can hardly breathe. A small sense of panic thrums beneath my skin at the sudden speed of change bolting through my life.
I hold a hand against my stomach and take a deep breath to try to calm my anxiety, but it isn’t working. Large swells of tears fill my eyes and fall down my face.
“Aye, miss. You’ll ruin your makeup for the wedding. Now, now. There’s no need to cry,” a woman whose name I can’t remember says, swinging her long, red braid over her shoulder, and dabbing my cheeks with a cloth.
“Please go. I need Grim. Someone get me Grim,” I say.
Another woman stares up at me with kind, doe-like eyes, a mesh of gold and brown in her irises. “That isn’t possible. He is out rowing with the men. He will be back soon. Plus, it isn’t tradition for the bride to see the groom.”
“Get me the hell out of this dress,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Ma’am?”
“Get me out of this dress!” I yell, trying to grab the fabric in my hand to rip. I need it off. I can’t do this. I can’t do this like this.