Chapter Eleven
-ASTRID-
While I could admit to being frustrated when I realized Declan didn’t entirely believe I was a capable warrior back in the tent at Largs, the moment I began battling him and Gustav in a clearing later that day, I felt exonerated.
Free at last to wield my blade, and nothing felt more glorious, given it was not to kill over and over, again and again.
Instead, I found it more cathartic than I anticipated.
As I slashed, the images of the sadness on my sisters’ faces when I was pulled away by my father’s plans to endure the bloodshed and hatred not only of my countrymen but of the Scots flooded my mind.
I slashed at them like I slashed at Declan and Gustav’s shields, until I realized I battled not them, but my past and the rage that I hadn’t been able to shed since first leaving the shores of home.
As my rage slowly drained, I felt the fight of words Declan and I had shared for months clang in our blades and reverberate in my soul. A cleansing of sorts. Our swords clashed, and my anger turned to exhilaration at how worthy an opponent he was.
At how clearly he could see me now, too.
He saw not just the gentle healer but the fierce shield-maiden, as we danced with metal and sweat in an erotic ferociousness that we would bring to bed together, and how I longed for the moment.
In fact, I craved it so intensely that I didn’t see Gustav coming until it was too late.
Or should I say nearly too late when he raced at me and used his overwhelming size to slam me to the ground.
Having been in this position before, I drove my knee into his ballocks and brought a dagger to his chest, warning him as nicely as I could that I would end him and very much meant it.
I would, without any thought to my fate or the Norse I meant to protect.
Yet King Alexander intercepted me before I could.
“Yield, Laird MacGreggor,” he said firmly. “For this was a battle well fought.”
When Gustav hesitated and had the nerve to squeeze my thigh first in a manner no woman should be touched without giving her permission, I pressed the tip of my blade against his skin again in warning, and he finally did as asked.
After he rolled off me, I breathed a sigh of relief as Alexander held out his hand to me and nodded once. “Well done, lass.”
Although shaken by how close I had come to killing one of his top men, I took his hand and allowed him to pull me up.
Meanwhile, Declan kept a wary eye on Gustav, and though I sensed rather than saw the fury churning in him at his fellow Scot’s behavior, he didn’t act on it.
Instead, albeit with a clenched jaw, he held his hand out to Gustav to help him up.
Did what he needed to, given the circumstances.
“Thank you, my liege,” I replied to King Alexander when he praised me for fighting well again, loud enough for all to hear.
Where I feared those watching, whether Lachlann’s or Alexander’s men, would look at me more warily than ever, given I had held my own against their best warriors, I saw no such thing.
Instead, there was blatant admiration.
“You really do fight verra well, Astrid,” the king praised yet again after I had gathered my smaller blades and saw them properly sheathed, then joined him, Declan, Stewart, and Gustav to eat wherever we could find to sit.
“I think, mayhap, you will end up serving the Kingdom of Scotland in more ways than one. A much-valued asset indeed.”
While it was good to know I had gained ground for my worthiness to the crown, I couldn’t help but feel wary at his meaning. Would I be serving by bringing peace between our people? Or did he think I would serve by marrying one of his top chieftains, such as Gustav?
And how would he respond when he learned that option had been taken away from him?
“How so, my liege?” Declan asked, no doubt as unnerved by the king’s vagueness.
“I dinnae know yet,” he replied. “All I know is one should not undervalue Astrid for her skill with a blade.”
Was I to fight for Scotland, then? Although I would much rather use words than blades, anything was better than being forced to marry Gustav.
Setting aside what Lachlann had shared, the MacGreggor chieftain had swiftly gone from being someone I admired to somebody of whom I was more than wary.
The look in his eyes when he came at me that last time had been pure loathing.
Undeniable hatred. While onlookers likely saw battle lust, I knew better.
“Did your father teach you to fight like that, Astrid?” Alexander wondered.
“Both my parents did.” I nearly mentioned my sisters, too, as they had taken to the blade better than I, but decided against it.
The less attention I put on them, the better, given that Freya had married the very man the Mackays had secretly sheltered.
The man the king was currently looking for.
“My mother and father were both fierce with blades in their time.”
“And where are they now?” The king shook his head. “Whilst I thought it odd they sent you here alone with a handful of your countrymen, now that I have seen you fight, ‘tis clear they didnae worry so much for your safety.”
Father, worry about my safety? The only thing he worried about these days was my breeding capabilities.
“Father could not make the journey,” I revealed, knowing he would not have come anyway. “And my mother was slain in battle years ago.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Alexander said. “Rumors have traveled to these shores that your father, Bj?rn Helvig, survived a white bear attack. Should I assume ‘tis why he cannae travel far?” He shook his head. “I have heard of your land’s great white bears. How brutal they can be.”
To say the least.
“Ja, ‘tis why he cannot travel,” I confirmed, hoping this line of questioning soon ceased.
Fortunately, Declan smoothly steered the conversation in another direction until we left and headed north again.
After that, even though we kept a relatively steady pace, the snow was deeper the further north we went, and we didn’t arrive at our destination until well after dark.
King Alexander had opted not to send word of his impending arrival so he could assess things without people knowing he was coming.
Most were asleep in the quaint little village, yet the tavern owner woke to see us fed once he knew who we were, and the innkeeper managed to find rooms for us all. Most had to double-or even triple-up, but I was provided my own room. Stewart and Declan were given a room beside mine.
After eating, the three of us headed upstairs with Oksana, Declan making clear he would stand guard outside my door overnight.
Given Gustav’s often disgruntled expression when he looked my way since we fought, I understood his reasoning.
Chances were good that I had wounded his pride.
Combine that with his well-masked dislike of my people, and who knows what he might be capable of doing?
“You may stand guard inside my door,” I made clear to Declan, shaking my head. “But you won't be sitting out in this cold, drafty hallway all night.”
“It seems Oksana agrees with you, lass,” Stewart noted, amused when Oksana sat to the right of my room’s door.
“If I didnae know better, I would say your husky has decided to stand guard out here instead.” His eyes were a little too all-knowing when he stopped outside his own door and winked at us.
“Declan, I agree with Astrid that ‘tis bound to be warmer in her room.”
It would also be far more difficult to catch us unaware if we were to kiss again. Yet I knew the moment we stepped into the small, intimate room and my talisman warmed invitingly against my chest that we would do far more than that.
Like most rooms in these inns, there was no hearth for a fire.
There was only a snow-caked window overlooking the woodland to provide meager light, along with a meager bed, a few rickety wooden chairs, and a small but sturdy table.
Yet the room still had a homey feel, with warm quilted blankets on the bed, thick plaid curtains to stave off drafts, and a partially melted candle that cast a soft, flickering light when Declan lit it.
“It might verra well be as cold in here as the hallway,” Declan commented, taking in the room’s aged appearance while we set down our satchels, fur cloaks, and weapons.
“Mayhap,” I said softly, locking the door and giving him a look he couldn't mistake. “Or mayhap ‘twill be just as Stewart said and warm indeed.”
“’Tis bloody risky, lass,” he warned just as softly, yet he made no move to put distance between us. Instead, he shifted closer, as if he couldn’t help himself. “I shouldae…we shouldnae.”
“Probably not,” I murmured, drifting his way, so drawn to him I couldn’t stop if I tried. “But we will.”
It seemed that was all the fight he had in him because the next thing I knew, he reeled me into his arms, cupped my cheek, and closed his lips over mine.
And it felt every bit as good as I knew it would.
Better, even.
Far too desperate to kiss each other gently this time, our kisses instead turned deep, hungry, and desperate within seconds. It took everything in me to keep from groaning when our tongues wrapped, and a heavy throbbing ache blossomed between my thighs.
When he hoisted me on the table, I spread my thighs and yanked him closer, needing him against me.
Nearly groaning again when I felt the hot, heavy ridge of his cock press where I needed it most, I cursed the material that kept him from me.
Desperate to feel every last bit of him, I rolled my hips against him, making clear what I wanted. Needed.
“Bloody hell, lass,” he managed hoarsely, undoubtedly liking that. “Have you,” he began, struggling to find his words. Breathing as harshly as I was, he met my eyes. “Have you lain with a man before?”
“Does it matter?” I said, winded, worried he might have hoped I was a virgin. Assumed it.