Chapter 25 Brynn
Brynn
“Have you told Lord Cenric yet?” Esa did her best to keep her voice down.
Brynn offered a wan smile. “Not yet. You’re sure?”
“Everything appears as it should to me.” Esa shrugged awkwardly. “But you are more experienced than me.”
“It can be a challenge to sense ka in our own bodies sometimes.” Brynn exhaled a long breath. “Thank you for confirming, Esa. That is a relief.”
“Lady?” Lena approached them, head angled carefully toward her feet and shoulders bowed.
Esa scrambled away from Brynn as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Lady, the jarl wants to know if you would sleep in his tent tonight.” Lena frowned. “He says he’s tired of Snapper trying to steal his woman.”
Brynn laughed at that.
Lena shifted, seeming deeply troubled.
“Snapper is his dog,” Brynn explained. “He likes to climb into bed with me. He’s been doing it since our wedding night.”
Lena’s face remained grave, not understanding the humor of the situation. The girl remained perpetually on edge, like a fox trapped in a longhouse. She constantly seemed to be on guard watching for a threat.
“Tell my husband that yes, I will share his tent.”
Lena bowed and scurried away.
“I’m trying to help her,” Esa said. “But she’s afraid of me.”
“Give her time.” Brynn watched as the former thrall retreated, head down like a frightened mouse.
“Will you teach her as you do me?” Esa asked.
“I hope so,” Brynn replied. “We can use more sorceresses in Ombra.”
Lena would have much catching up to do, but she was a sorceress. Brynn was sure of that. She’d not yet learned much of the girl’s mother apart from that she was dead and had been taken by the Valdari when she was very young. Lena did not know who her mother had been before.
Brynn had to wonder if there were more thralls in Valdar who had been taken from the Istovari as children, before they had honed their power properly. Perhaps she would be able to persuade Ovrek to free more of them at some point. It wasn’t as if he had any way to train them himself.
The Wolf Star and Hróarr’s ship had sailed through the day, reaching one of the islands halfway to Ombra. They were stopping for the night, having set up camp along the deserted shore.
Across the camp, Cenric worked to secure the ship and the canvas they would be sleeping under. Just one more night and then she would be back with her husband in their own house and bed.
Hróarr sprawled beside the fire, glaring into the flames. He was either drunk or well on his way there. He’d been silent for most the day and as soon as camp had been set up, had demanded a keg of ale. He must be grieving the loss of Vana.
Brynn knew grief well, but she had to wonder what that particular grief was like. What was it to mourn a person you loved and who loved you? What would it feel like to know that love had not been enough?
Guin trotted up and sat by Brynn’s feet. Brynn reached down, stroking her fur and ruffling her behind her ears. Guin leaned against Brynn’s leg, panting happily. She might never be as friendly or easygoing as Snapper, but she was affectionate with Brynn.
Brynn rose, patting Guin. With a brief nod to Esa, she headed into the trees behind their small camp, seeking privacy.
Guin trotted after her, sniffing at the trees and roots and the remains of an eagle’s dinner lying scattered beneath the pines. It was mostly dark, but Brynn could sense ka in the life force of the world around her.
Brynn found a tree a few paces off and squatted to relieve herself. She took her time on the way back, letting Guin explore.
Brynn paused beside a smooth boulder, sensing a shape stepping into the trees after her. She might have thought it was one of the other men, but she sensed Snapper bounding beside him.
“Cenric?” Brynn turned around. She saw him approaching, outlined by the firelight of the camp beyond the trees. Her heart flipped in her chest as he came closer.
“Brynn.” He reached for her, and she reached back. He caught her hand and pulled her in. His mouth found hers in the dark, his breath hot against her face.
Brynn curled against him, enjoying the solid warmth of his body and how his arms felt curled around her. She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his kiss. He was here. They were safe. She clung to him as a little whimper escaped her.
Cenric cradled the back of her neck, tilting her head to the side as he left kisses along her throat.
Brynn gasped, her fingers clenching into his mantle. “Cenric,” she whispered, not sure what else to say.
“Yes, wife?” Cenric nuzzled her cheek before kissing her temple, her forehead, her nose, and then back to her mouth.
“We’ll be home tomorrow,” she rasped, fighting to keep her voice from being too loud.
“I don’t want to wait until tomorrow,” came Cenric’s flat answer. He pushed her against the rock, the one that blocked her from the view of the campfire.
The stone was cold against her back, but Cenric was warm as he pressed against her front. His kisses grew harder, more insistent. His hand caught her skirt and hiked it up, exposing her knee.
His hand found her skin, stroking up her thigh.
Brynn reached under his mantle, gripping the sides of his tunic as she felt the hard lines of flesh underneath.
Real. This was real. She held on tighter, wanting to cling to this moment as tightly as she clung to him.
Anything might happen in the coming days or months, but she could have this moment with his body pressed to hers, his caresses setting fire to her skin.
Just a taste. She’d wanted just a taste and now like a drunkard she couldn’t seem to stop.
“The others might hear,” Brynn whispered, even as she kissed him, breathing in the smell of him, the solidness of him. He was alive. Alive. She’d been so close to losing him, to losing this.
Snapper and Guin wandered around the trees. Dogs were strange that way. There was nothing unusual or noteworthy to them about mating.
“We’re married,” Cenric growled back. “Everyone knows we swyve.” He pressed her against the boulder, nipping her neck where it joined her shoulder.
Brynn bit her lip, fighting to be quiet. She dug her fingers into his sides, wanting everything, but afraid to take it.
Cenric drew up her skirt, exposing her thighs. He did it slowly, watching her face by the dim light of the distant fire. When she didn’t stop him, he dropped to his knees.
Brynn bit down on her knuckles as his tongue slid into the space between her legs. Pleasure flared through her, hot and delightfully forbidden.
He pushed her legs wider, his tongue doing those wonderfully wicked things to her most secret places.
Her mind turned heady, and her power rippled around her.
Cenric might not be able to see it, and most the camp wouldn’t, but Esa would.
Lena might. Brynn fought to control herself, but she couldn’t control her body and her magic at the same time.
Ka rippled around her in shimmering lines, magic responding to her pleasure in golden coils.
Pressure built deep in her core as Cenric licked her with delicate strokes. He reached up to knead her breasts through her dress, finding her nipples and pinching just so through the linen and wool. How did he make this feel so good?
With her skirt around her waist, she was exposed and vulnerable, the cool night air reminding her of that. It felt dangerous, wicked, but also thrilling.
Brynn climaxed, doubling over as she fought to contain her moans. She gasped, whimpering and shaking.
Cenric caught her, chuckling as he straightened, his wet mouth leaving kisses on her cheek and temple. “That’s my girl.”
Shameless. Cenric was absolutely shameless.
Brynn gasped into his chest, leaning heavily against him. “I love you,” she squeaked, still fighting to be quiet. “You do such wonderful things to me.”
“Sweet wife,” Cenric murmured, nuzzling her cheek. “My sweet Brynn.” His erection pressed against her thigh, rigid and needy. Pleasuring her always excited him. He was never so hard as when he knew she was enjoying herself.
Heart pounding, Brynn reached under his tunic for the belt that held up his trousers. If she was going to be this exposed, this bare, and this helpless, it was only fair that he should be, too.
Cenric’s grin was visible even in the dim light as she freed his manhood, stroking along the warm length of him.
Brynn pulled him toward her, inviting.
Cenric rested his hands on her hips and turned her around so she was facing the boulder.
Flashbacks of another time with another man froze her with fear.
This was how Paega had always wanted it—in the dark, her bent over and facing away from him.
Her first husband hadn’t wanted to look at her and he hadn’t cared if she enjoyed it or not.
In hindsight, he had probably hoped she wouldn’t.
“Brynn?” Cenric’s voice came soft, concerned. “What is it, love?”
Brynn tried to collect herself. This was Cenric. She could trust him. All the same, maybe she could ask for another position or offer to kneel for him and use her mouth the way he had for her.
“Brynn?” Cenric leaned over her but didn’t move to lift her skirts again. “Are you alright?”
“Yes.” Brynn inhaled a deep breath. “I’m just…not used to this.”
Cenric leaned over, pressing his cheek to hers. “Not with me, you mean.”
Brynn didn’t like talking about her first husband, especially not when she and Cenric were like this. She wished she could just forget him, but Paega had been her whole life.
Brynn didn’t care so much that he had taken her virginity or even that he had taken six years of her life.
She resented him for taking her hope, her naivete, and any innocence she’d had left after the war.
He had drained her girlhood down to the last dregs.
Though she had a good life now, and a good husband, Paega had taken her youth, and she would never get it back.
Cenric pulled away from her. “I’m sorry.”