Chapter 40 #2
Havrik sniggers. “Good thing that in Ravine tradition, only the male is required to speak during the ceremony.” He hooks a piece of my hair and pushes it behind my pointy ear. “All you have to do is hold still while I instruct Dorson to ink your ears with my name.”
“Just because you’re an Alpha doesn’t mean he’ll comply with your demands,” I snipe back.
Another grotesque grin distorts Havrik’s face. “Good thing our dear priest responds so well to my Alpha pitch.”
The ice in my veins cracks and drifts in floes beneath my skin.
“Karn, get the Gothi. I want our marriage finalized as soon as my mate-to-be relieves her bladder and washes her pretty face.” As the Ravine Jarl steers me toward the door of the sprawling timber structure, he says, “At least you don’t stink of that cousin of yours.
Speaking of the prodigal son, some frankly disturbing rumors have been swirling around…
” His eyes drag over my profile as though to glimpse if those “disturbing rumors” have legs.
“Lucky for you, I don’t much care about bygones and errors made during one’s youth. ”
Oh, yes, lucky me.
He twists the knob that gleams yellow like the many chains dangling from his long neck.
“Welcome to your new home, Flower.”
Welcome to your future burial plot, asshole.
“Bathing chamber’s that way.” He points toward a double-wide doorway capable of accommodating his shifted form.
As we move toward it, I try hard not to appear too entranced that he has a door and walls inside his home. Even Ulf partitions his living space with furs. The bathing chamber is just as startling with its claw-foot tub and sink basin that both glimmer gold in the light of the central firepit.
“Quite the improvement from your rudimentary lifestyle, isn’t it?” he says, shuffling us forward. “Here. I’ll hold your dress while you wash up.” He lets go of me and grips my dress.
“No.” I yank it back.
When his ruddy eyebrows bend, I say, “A night shift isn’t appropriate clothing for nuptials to a Jarl.” I gesture around his bathing chamber. “Especially one of your standing.”
A boastful grin kinks his mouth. “That rag isn’t any more appropriate, though.”
When anger flushes my cheeks, the Alpha laughs.
“Did I offend you, Flower?” He scrapes a knuckle across my cheekbone.
I lurch backward, my reaction only strengthening the power of his glee.
“Such a feisty little thing.”
He nods to the sink and crosses his arms, evidently not going to leave me unguarded. “Wash up. Karn will be back in no time with the Gothi.”
I pivot toward the mirrored disk framed in more gold, absorbing the bloodied tracks that have dried along the sides of my mouth in the shape of Koppar’s moustache. I scoop some water from a metal bucket—or rather bowl, considering how ornate it is—and splash my face and mouth.
Once clean, I pivot toward what I assume must be the privy since it has a lid. “I’d like some privacy.”
Havrik turns. I wait for him to step out, but he plants his feet wide and waits. Even though I don’t need to pee, I force a meager stream from my bladder while I fish the stinger out of my pocket.
Once I conceal it in my hand, I grab the ladle from the small bowl beside the privy and pour fresh water between my legs, then ease my knickers back up and shut the lid.
The loud thwack makes Havrik peer over his shoulder. “Feeling better, my Flower?”
“Much,” I reply with a smile that Havrik doesn’t quite seem to know what to do with. I slough off its cutting edges before it can put him on his guard. “I’m surprised you’re willing to get the Vale’s crest tattooed on your ears,” I say to fully kill his vigilance.
“I’m not. Only your name and a rose in full bloom. I’ve worked on the design for weeks. Since we first met, actually.”
How disturbing.
“Want to see it?”
“I’d prefer seeing your scalp bare and your throat slit, but sure…why not?”
He snorts, probably thinking I’m being cute, but then his lips flatten.
My breath snags in my throat when I catch the direction of his gaze—my hands. He cannot possibly scent the silver pin lodged in the stinger, can he?
I hold still as he stalks close. When he grabs my hand—not the one hiding my weapon—and flips it this way and that, my ribs loosen their clutch on my lungs.
“What the Hel happened to your skin?” His stare shifts to the fist buried in my wool dress.
I decide that if he picks it up, I’ll stab him. “Played with dragon-fire in my youth. Zero moons. Don’t recommend.”
“Zero moons?”
“It’s the rating system I established with Saga when we were children. When we love something, it gets thirteen moons. When we hate something, it gets zero. For example, you, Havrik Varganson, get zero moons.”
His eyes turn slitted, and he grips my chin bruisingly hard, wrenching it up. “Keep running your mouth, and I’ll have to stuff it again. And this time, it won’t be with fabric.”
The bridge of my nose rumples with disgust.
“Actually…while we wait for Karn…” His hand drops from my chin to my shoulder, and he shoves.
“On your knees, and don’t fucking use your teeth, or some other part of your body will end up covered in welts.
Not your face, though, for that would be a punishment to myself, since I’m the one looking at it.
And it might dock a few points off your trading value. ”
“Any other directives?” I ask as I lower myself to the ground and prepare to plant a needle so deep, he’ll never be able to retrieve it.
He unfastens his pants and rolls them down, excitement gleaming in his mad eyes.
The instant his fingers sink into my hair and grip my scalp, I drop my dress and strike his testicles.
For a heartbeat, he doesn’t react, almost as though the pain has yet to make its way up his tall body, but then he releases a howl that’s so strident, it could strip the highest peaks of their caps in the dead of winter.
I shoot to my feet and scramble backward, grabbing the privy ladle, which I hold in front of me like a club.
He’s pawing at his balls, howling some more. “What the fuck have you done?”
“Neutered you. Oh, wait, that was redundant, since your true mate already rejected you.”
“Fucking bitch! I will fucking scalp you!”
Oddly enough, all I feel in that moment is reassured that news of my heritage didn’t reach his ears.
He lunges, but stumbles, cupping his balls with a hiss. He insults me a few more times as he shoves his limp dick aside to squeeze out the needle. His eyes flash, not the color of his wolf’s but white, like he’s about to lose consciousness.
Which would be a freaking miracle. Note to self: Always target hard-to-reach, sensitive places.
I contemplate streaking past him and hightailing it back to my valley, but his sidekicks would probably intercept me. After fitting a new needle into my stinger for when Karn shows up, I hold the wooden spoon over the fire, rotating it like a roast on a spit, waiting for the flames to dry the wood.
“Did no one ever teach you that abduction isn’t the way to a woman’s heart?” I ask as he plants one boot on the sink-top with a snarl and proceeds to pinch his balls.
I grin, wishing Saga were here to witness Heinous Havrik’s total humiliation. And Nika… She’d love it. Maybe the two of us have a chance at friendship after all.
Smoke gathers on the hollowed piece of wood, and then the smoke turns into sparks. I carefully pull my blazing club from the fire and start circling the pit toward the wheezing, snarling Alpha when the front door bangs open.
I jump.
“Karn!” Havrik growls. “Get in here! Kill her!”
A white wolf dappled in crimson erupts into the bathing chamber with a roar that turns my insides from solid to liquid. On instinct, I fling my fiery stick at him, and it catches on his fur.
I’m almost more surprised than the wolf who blinks his wide, navy eyes at me.
Navy…
I gasp when the male melts back into skin. What have I done?