The Barbarian’s Vow (Barbarian Duet #2)

T here was indeed a worse fate than crossing the damn sea—doing it in the stinking heat.

Cador’s pitifully empty stomach heaved as the ship rocked over the white-foamed waves. Sweat stung his eyes, and he gripped the bow rail with slick palms.

After weeks with only the water and sky in sight, now he blinked at mainland Onan huddled on the horizon, growing bigger by the hour. The temperature soared seemingly by the minute. At least the cursed sun was behind them now as it bore down mercilessly, prickling his reddened neck.

Though he’d stripped down to only his vest and trousers, his face was flushed and his throat constantly dry.